Mo Money Mo Problems

My husband and I are used to struggling. We’ve never truly been what many consider “comfortable”. But I recently noticed something.

When our daughter was born, we barely had anything. We worked hard, but my husband and I were both making only twelve dollars an hour. But here’s what’s interesting – we made it work. 

Fast forward to today. My daughter is now seven and we make quite a bit more than twelve dollars an hour, but we’re barely scraping by. This past year we have felt more pressure and desperation than we ever have. 

If at one time we made twelve dollars an hour work, why are we broke now?

I feel our life was simpler when we were younger. We have less stuff. Now we have more subscriptions, bills, expenses, etc. 

Kinda weird, but I also think we didn’t realize how expensive having eight cats would be. One of our cats was recently injured and while we would do anything for our kitties, that 700-dollar vet bill hurt. 

Things are even shittier in the US right now, and I’m sure that contributes to why we are broke. 

This is a short post, but I’m curious if any of you can relate. Have you made your life work for less money than you have now? Did your life get more complicated when you made more money?

When did body parts become offensive?

Of course, this post came to mind after hearing about the Statue of David controversy in Florida, but I have a more personal example.

I live in a small, three-bedroom house with one tiny bathroom to share with my husband and daughter. We always leave the bathroom door open so if someone’s showering, the toilet is available, etc. It’s no big deal to us because we’re family.

Last weekend I was unaware that the neighbor girl was over at our house because I was in the shower – with the door open. I didn’t hear her come in. I get out of the shower, dry off, and walk completely naked to our bedroom across the hall (like I always do), but when I get in the hall, I see the neighbor girl. I run to the bedroom and slam the door. I was so pissed at my husband for not letting me know that someone else was in the house that I yelled at him – so much so that I scared my daughter and the neighbor girl away. Turns out my husband was sitting on the couch with no pants on – just a t-shirt and boxers – and didn’t want to get up. The neighbor girl sometimes lets herself in so I guess this was bound to happen sooner or later. My family is hardly ever fully dressed when we’re hanging out at home.

But why was this such a big deal to me – why did I have to yell? Considering my history of eating disorders, I’m not exactly comfortable with my body, but still, the neighbor girl is only five – what does she care about the shape of my body? 

Of course, in the back of my mind, I thought if a child other than my own sees me naked, could it be misconstrued as something sexual? It’s a scary thought and I certainly don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

If this were to happen again, I would try to be calmer. It’s probably not as big of a deal as I made it.

But really, who told us to cover up? Why can’t kids see the Statue of David? Why are body parts offensive?

Does this have to do with religion? Is this a Puritan thing?

What do you think and how would you have responded to my neighbor girl situation?

Am I indoctrinating my daughter?

I’m sure all families indoctrinate their children to a degree – even if it’s not religious.

My daughter recently had a birthday, and one of her friends gave her a Claire’s gift card. The only Claire’s near us is in the mall, so we went to the mall for the first time in years. We were there for about an hour before I got freaked out at the number of people there. I didn’t think people shopped at malls anymore, but I was definitely wrong. Old people, young people – everybody was there.

We stopped at the food court for lunch and there happens to be a Chic-fil-A in our mall. Of course, it was closed because it was Sunday, but my daughter points at it and says, “That’s the restaurant we hate.” I giggled because it was cute as hell, but maybe I shouldn’t have.

My work often has Chic-fil-A cater our meetings and trainings, and I always go home and bitch about it to my husband. I’m sure that’s where my daughter is getting this from. But I realized, I’ve never actually sat down and explained to my daughter why I don’t like Chic-fil-A. She’s just repeating what she hears.

Is that wrong? My daughter now hates a restaurant that she knows nothing about and has never eaten at. 

Maybe this is just a small example but is it really that different than religious families?

I really want to raise my daughter in a way that she learns to question everything and think for herself – even if she ends up believing something other than what my husband and I believe. I want her to feel independent and free to explore whatever she wants.

So what about your family – do you feel you have indoctrinated your children even if you aren’t religious? Is that good or bad? Do you catch yourself doing it?

Mandated Reporting and Our Local Clergy

I work for an arts program in a mental health organization, and since I sometimes work with kids, I am a mandated reporter. Last Monday, a social worker from our local children’s services gave a presentation on mandated reporting. I’m not going to lie – I thought it was going to be boring, but to my surprise, I actually learned quite a bit. It helped that the presenter coupled the information with interesting local stories. 

Several thoughts came up as I sat and listened to the presentation. 

First, I found the definitions and descriptions of the different kinds of abuse very helpful. I honestly didn’t know what constitutes emotional abuse. We were given a booklet on abuse and reporting and here’s how it defines emotional abuse:

“Repeated threats or insults to scare or embarrass a child, or to crush a child’s self-esteem. It can also include withholding affection and attention from a child.”

Second thought – is indoctrination considered emotional abuse? You got to admit, some of that definition touches on aspects of indoctrination. 

Third thought (which didn’t surprise me) – clergy is also mandated reporters in my state, but the presenter said that they are the worst group for compliance. Not only do they not report suspected abuse, they often blame the children. She even gave us plenty of local examples. Even some of my coworkers chimed in and gave examples. I was shocked because they acted like abuse in local churches is common knowledge among parishioners, but no one is doing anything about it.

Apparently, if you are a mandated reporter in my state and don’t report abuse, you can be given a six-month jail sentence. If they know the clergy isn’t complying, I’m wondering if they are following through with justice.

Here’s the really bizarre part – after telling us all this about local clergy and churches, the presenter invited us to a “faith-based celebration luncheon” to recruit foster and adoptive families. 

What?? I really feel they’re looking in the wrong place. 

I really don’t know how to help in this situation. I was born and raised in this area. I know what it’s like here, and yet when I heard about local clergy and churches along with a faith-based foster and adoption recruitment event, my gut just sank.

Surprisingly, I don’t have many questions in this post. I just wanted to share my story so you could join in my disgust. Can anyone relate? Do you have a similar story? Is indoctrination really abuse? What can be done about all this?

Would I be happier if I were a Christian?

Let’s pretend for a minute that I wasn’t a skeptical person – that I didn’t ask a million questions. Maybe I was lacking common sense and needed a far-fetched explanation to squash my fear of the unknown. Maybe I was raised in a church and didn’t know any different.

I am constantly bombarded with Christianity and sometimes it wears me down. What if I just gave in? If you can’t beat them, join them, right?

As much as I’m cringing writing this, you have to admit, there are a few positive aspects to Christianity. First, many Christians feel at home at their church. That’s a sense of community I don’t have. Religion provides rules and a certain plan for life so many Christians feel they have a purpose. Not to mention, the thought of going to heaven when you die is probably pretty comforting. Maybe not having to think for yourself is a relief to some. If you didn’t know any different, wouldn’t Christianity feel safe? Also, Christians are the majority here where as an atheist I often feel ostracized and judged — silenced even.

What if I had these things? If I was a Christian with blind faith, would I be happier? Would my life be simpler? 

I imagine bonding with my coworkers, having a sense of community I’ve longed for, and maybe getting a little more sleep — after all, I’m going to heaven when I die. I imagine feeling safer and more confident.

What I am describing would require blind faith, and it’s in my nature to question. To be honest, I find it hard to believe that there are people who don’t question anything. I think everyone questions but few are willing to admit it. Personally, I couldn’t call myself a Christian and live with those doubts.

So would I be happier? We all know the horror stories that accompany Christianity and certain churches, but if you just consider the aspects I listed above, I think I actually would be happier. Comfort, safety, purpose – I mean, who wouldn’t want those things? 

But it’s just not me. I was even skeptical as a child and I don’t like being lied to. I will live a more difficult life if it means evidence and common sense are valued. That’s what’s important to me. I feel strong and grounded as an atheist which has positively impacted my recovery – that’s also very important to me.

What do you guys think? Would you be happier if you were a Christian with blind faith? What would that look like in your life? I live in a red state in the Midwest so that definitely affects how I look at religion. What would these aspects look like where you live? I’m sure there have been many studies done on religion and happiness, but I think it’s really interesting to consider scenarios on a very personal level.

Competition is fierce — Is it more important to be different than good?

Creative types, have you ever heard this before? “It’s more important to be different than good.” I first heard this quote when I was doing a lot of art shows in my twenties. I’ve actually been told this a couple of times and someone once explained it as millions of people are good at any one thing, so it is crucial that you stand out. 

At first, I would think this would work in my favor because I’m pretty damn weird. Maybe if I’m weird enough people will look past the fact that I’m not well-educated. 

I’ve been given a lot of opportunities as an artist and writer despite my lack of education, but of course, I’ve heard “no” way more than “yes” which is always discouraging. In those moments I always wonder if people with a degree have a leg up on me. 

What’s really interesting is when I was younger, other artists said I should consider myself an outsider artist because I was mentally ill and untrained. Some even suggested that I never seek any kind of training so I could always remain an outsider.

However, I went against their advice and took some classes and I am so glad I did. To my surprise, the training did not push me to conform in any way; they just gave me more tools to use in expressing myself and creating art. At times I complained in my drawing class – maybe I was a little frustrated or bored – but my instructor told me you have to learn the rules before you can break them. That seemed like much better advice than telling someone not to get any training.

This could apply to so many different fields and interests. So what do you think – educated/skilled vs. different/standing out? Is one more important than another? Of course, it would be best to have both, but if you had to pick one, what do you feel is more helpful? 

Psychosis, Religion, and Lingering Fear

Tomorrow afternoon I have a meeting at one of the oldest structures in the city which happens to be known as one of the most haunted locations in the state. In its current form, the structure is an arts center infamous for the many spirits that supposedly roam its halls. I am going there tomorrow because the arts program I work for is considering renting space there.

I’ve been to this building several times and each time I get a little nervous and hope I don’t experience anything strange – even though I’m an atheist who doesn’t believe in ghosts.

I’m returning to a question I’ve asked before: if you’re afraid of something you don’t believe in, does that mean you actually believe in it?

I don’t believe in spirits or people rising from the dead, but I still get a little scared.

I definitely have my reasons. As someone who struggles with schizoaffective disorder, many of my psychotic symptoms have been related to the paranormal. Antipsychotic medication changed my whole world and that’s actually when I decided to become an atheist. All of these unexplained things that were happening were suddenly explained when the medication worked. 

Even the revelations I experienced from taking medication don’t stop me from getting a little worked up about anything paranormal. Logically I know it isn’t real, but the fear is still there.

Can this question relate to anyone raised in religion?

I just wanted to ask this question again because I was curious if anyone could relate – perhaps a lingering fear from a religious history. For example, were you ever told you were going to hell, and even though you’re no longer a believer, you still get nervous that something bad might happen to you? Like an irrational fear you can’t shake? 

When you became a nonbeliever, were there any rules/sins you were still scared of? When you broke a rule or sinned and nothing happened, was it empowering?

The Evidence 

I bring up the paranormal thing a lot. I’m absolutely fascinated with it even though I’m a little scared. I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits but I do think there’s something to people’s experiences – we just don’t have a clear explanation yet.

As I mentioned above, I’ve already been to this building several times, and even though I get nervous, I have never once experienced anything weird there. That should be evidence enough to keep me calm. I know I’ll be anxious, but I also know that most likely nothing is going to happen.

Whether it’s mental illness, religion, or something else, I’m sure lingering fear can be trauma-related.

So what do you think? If you’re afraid of something you don’t believe in, does that mean you actually believe in it?

To Everyone in Recovery

In my hour of desperation, all I can do is write, but I’m keeping this short and sweet.

It’s been a rough day.

My eating disorder is an everyday battle. It’s so hard to keep fighting, but I don’t have a choice. There are tools I can use, but I’m exhausted. I need to use my last little spark to push forward. 

Society’s judgments and my unsupportive family weigh me down but I’m realizing my strength and learning I have a voice. I’m not looking for a normal life; I just want to be healthy and functional. You haven’t walked in my shoes – nor I in yours – but I don’t need your understanding; I need your kindness and grace.

To everyone in recovery – no matter what from – I see you and tomorrow is a new day. Let’s keep going. 

For better or for worse: How much are your kids like you?

This weekend we went to an all-in-one play center – roller skating, laser tag, gigantic jungle gym, escape rooms, etc. It was our first time going there and it was pretty impressive, but our first hour proved to be a little tense.

We started at the roller skating rink and my daughter was really nervous. She did NOT want to skate. I sat at a table with her and colored. I didn’t want to skate either. My sister-in-law and her four kids were all skating; even my out-of-shape, forty-five-year-old husband put on skates. I was certain he was going to break his leg but he didn’t even fall once. 

While my daughter and I sat and colored my family constantly pushed her to put on skates. They were relentless. My daughter eventually crawled under the table and I told them to leave her alone. 

She never did skate. We moved on to other parts of the center and she happily played with her cousins. The rest of the day she was fine.

Every time I see my daughter get nervous it hurts because I know what that feels like. I was a nervous kid who turned into a very nervous adult. This is one trait of mine I was hoping my daughter wouldn’t get. I want my daughter to try new things and meet new people enthusiastically. I don’t want there to be any missed opportunities for her.

Perhaps if I had put on skates, my daughter would’ve, too. Unfortunately, I’m dealing with my own anxiety and it is so hard to model some sort of confident behavior for her. It’s easy for her to sit and color with me because I always sit and color. 

Of course, my daughter has many more of my traits – we’re both very short and our eyes turn to little crescents when we smile. We’re both impatient and love cats. It’s fun and a little weird when you see how much your kid is like you, but I really wish my daughter didn’t have my anxiety.

So how much are your kids like you? Is it good or bad? What do you do when your kids inherit your shortcomings? 

An Atheist in a Red State: How do I make it better?

“How do I make it better?” is a huge question that probably has a complicated answer. But really, how do I improve the lives of atheists where I live?

I don’t feel threatened physically where I live, but I think being more open as an atheist would affect my job and relationships. My husband and I live paycheck to paycheck so I’m in no position to jeopardize my job.

I have schizoaffective disorder and I’ve dealt with my fair share of stigma surrounding mental illness. When it comes to mental health, the best I can do is tell my story, but it makes me vulnerable and I’m usually crushed when it doesn’t help. But most of the time, it actually does help. Either way, at least I gave it a shot. Nothing will change if no one speaks up.

With that in mind, I feel if I open up to the people around me that eventually, it will make things easier for other atheists. That’s how I feel at the moment. Do you think that helps? But I’m talking a big game here – at the moment I don’t have the guts to open up.

Will it get better with time? I’m assuming being an atheist in Ohio in the 1950s was very different from what I experience now. Isn’t it? Will we feel safer in the future?

I often ask myself, “Is it the organization I work for? Is it the field I work in?” I’m not sure but I doubt it. 

I’m way more open about my mental illness than I am about being an atheist. You might assume it would be the other way around. I’m willing to tell someone what psychosis feels like but I can’t even tell someone I don’t believe in god.

What do you think? Do you have any practical tips for right now? What about the bigger picture? Do you have dreams for the future? This is a short post but I’m really curious to read your ideas.