Levitator
Well-Known Member
I don't know where to put this, or if it's even welcome, but I figure it makes sense to keep track of terrible social experiences to try to learn from them or at least commiserate, so I'll try and not be surprised if the thread gets moved or even deleted. Also, when you complain that you don't have friends or a community, it seems to get lost that that's really what you mean, and it's not just empty complaining.
Mar 10 2024
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I tend to get kicked out of churches. Back in the US I was a victim of violence, and I would go to the churches kind of distraught, but I would suppress the emotions, and just kind of matter-of-factly express that I needed emotional and spiritual support, but I would be told that my presence was troubling, and I would get ejected. Was it politics? Maybe. Was it that people couldn't get a consistent reading on my emotional state, and they let their discomfort take precedence over common courtesy? Either? Both? It doesn't much matter, because I remember having "church security" in my face, in the parking lot, aggressively demanding to search my pickup truck; a request I politely refused before driving off and subsequently having the FBI called on me; because I expressed that I was a survivor of abuses and I was looking for support. At a church.
So, anyway, I tried an entirely different church tonight, and this was after I had numerous times warned people that I felt God was guiding me away from organized religion. They were always incredulous. Tonight felt like an exception, so I went with it, and I attended. I played Weezer's "Island in the Sun" on the praise singer's guitar, after the service as people were leaving, and he was impressed, but he commented that his guitar is only for praise. I told him that it was a song about a joyful paradise, so I thought it was suitable for church use. I came back again later to the late service, and asked to play his guitar, when he again commented that the guitar is only for praise. I reflexively, but in good cheer answered "I didn't realize it wasn't praise!", rather than to reiterate my previous justification for the song. He said to go ahead, and as I reached for the guitar, some woman, maybe his wife or a friend, dropped her hand down over the strap and declared that the guitar is only for praise, and besides I don't have permission to use it. I commented "So many assumptions", and even though we cleared up the issue, I said "Nevermind. Don't worry about it." I felt very prejudged, and twice in a row already.
I did, however see a lady I had met just twice before. She had suffered some sort of heatstroke as a girl, due to a fever, so she had issues with paralysis. I had met her on the street once before, and she said that she spent most of her time cleaning her parents' house. The second time I met her, I asked her about music, and her mother silenced this woman, already partially mute, and prohibited her from using her limited speaking abilities to talk about... music! I found this really upsetting, but I kept my mouth shut, out of courtesy and to avoid conflict. So, so far, we have a disabled woman whose mother is a control freak, who uses her to clean house like Cinderella, and who puts a gag over her mouth for trivial discussions on music when she already has a speech impediment to begin with.
So, tonight, after getting treated like trash for attempting to play music for people, I met this girl for the third time in my entire life and did not get as far as a greeting. I was promptly lead outside by her mother, and upbraided, and humiliated, and told that she would call the police on me for talking to her disabled daughter. I attempted to explain to her that I had already warned the church that she is a control freak, and that she silences and presses into physical labor the same girl she is telling me is too disabled to interact without supervision. The pastor showed up, her husband showed up, and as someone who has already been a victim of repeated violence, it's a lot of pressure to be confronted in a hostile way by three people all at once. I lost my temper, I told the entire congregation that her family are slave-drivers, and that such was my testimony. I will never be allowed back after that outburst, but at the same time, that's exactly the kind of thing that abusive people are afraid of; visibility.
Mar 10 2024
-----------------
I tend to get kicked out of churches. Back in the US I was a victim of violence, and I would go to the churches kind of distraught, but I would suppress the emotions, and just kind of matter-of-factly express that I needed emotional and spiritual support, but I would be told that my presence was troubling, and I would get ejected. Was it politics? Maybe. Was it that people couldn't get a consistent reading on my emotional state, and they let their discomfort take precedence over common courtesy? Either? Both? It doesn't much matter, because I remember having "church security" in my face, in the parking lot, aggressively demanding to search my pickup truck; a request I politely refused before driving off and subsequently having the FBI called on me; because I expressed that I was a survivor of abuses and I was looking for support. At a church.
So, anyway, I tried an entirely different church tonight, and this was after I had numerous times warned people that I felt God was guiding me away from organized religion. They were always incredulous. Tonight felt like an exception, so I went with it, and I attended. I played Weezer's "Island in the Sun" on the praise singer's guitar, after the service as people were leaving, and he was impressed, but he commented that his guitar is only for praise. I told him that it was a song about a joyful paradise, so I thought it was suitable for church use. I came back again later to the late service, and asked to play his guitar, when he again commented that the guitar is only for praise. I reflexively, but in good cheer answered "I didn't realize it wasn't praise!", rather than to reiterate my previous justification for the song. He said to go ahead, and as I reached for the guitar, some woman, maybe his wife or a friend, dropped her hand down over the strap and declared that the guitar is only for praise, and besides I don't have permission to use it. I commented "So many assumptions", and even though we cleared up the issue, I said "Nevermind. Don't worry about it." I felt very prejudged, and twice in a row already.
I did, however see a lady I had met just twice before. She had suffered some sort of heatstroke as a girl, due to a fever, so she had issues with paralysis. I had met her on the street once before, and she said that she spent most of her time cleaning her parents' house. The second time I met her, I asked her about music, and her mother silenced this woman, already partially mute, and prohibited her from using her limited speaking abilities to talk about... music! I found this really upsetting, but I kept my mouth shut, out of courtesy and to avoid conflict. So, so far, we have a disabled woman whose mother is a control freak, who uses her to clean house like Cinderella, and who puts a gag over her mouth for trivial discussions on music when she already has a speech impediment to begin with.
So, tonight, after getting treated like trash for attempting to play music for people, I met this girl for the third time in my entire life and did not get as far as a greeting. I was promptly lead outside by her mother, and upbraided, and humiliated, and told that she would call the police on me for talking to her disabled daughter. I attempted to explain to her that I had already warned the church that she is a control freak, and that she silences and presses into physical labor the same girl she is telling me is too disabled to interact without supervision. The pastor showed up, her husband showed up, and as someone who has already been a victim of repeated violence, it's a lot of pressure to be confronted in a hostile way by three people all at once. I lost my temper, I told the entire congregation that her family are slave-drivers, and that such was my testimony. I will never be allowed back after that outburst, but at the same time, that's exactly the kind of thing that abusive people are afraid of; visibility.
