Book, Healing, Update

Update

Deb M

Hello, long time no see. I’m hoping some of you have been following me over on Substack and TikTok; if not, here I am again. For the last couple of years, most of my energy has been spent working on my book. I’ve completed a two-year writing program and spent many hours in critique groups. It has been a wonderful time of self-discovery, and I’ve learned a lot about how to write a memoir. I appreciate how patient you’ve been with me as I’ve gone through this process. Currently, I’m putting the finishing touches on my book proposal so I can begin to send it out to agents. This is a scary and exhilarating time. Writing my memoir has been a gift, and I feel so privileged to have the time and resources to put into writing it. It has healed me in so many ways while also revealing new sore spots that need attention. As I move ahead, I can only hope I will be able to weather the tough publishing world. I may seem pretty durable and strong on the outside, but on the inside, I’m pretty soft. I plan to document my journey here more closely now that I’m done working on my manuscript.

One important piece of getting your book published is branding and having a platform. This is why you see me in so many places. I’m sure at times it seems like a lot, it feels that way to me, but it is what I must do to meet my goals. This is where you come in. I know some of you have been following me for a long time, and I really appreciate that. If you want to help me push my book over the finish line, please interact with my social media as much as possible. A like on FB, Substack, TikTok, and here can go a long way. It’s even better if you can comment and follow/subscribe. A platform can make or break a memoir writer.

On TikTok, I have been making videos about the church I grew up in and how they compare to the religious right, and what is happening politically now. I talk about race and class and how the church of my childhood handled those issues. My handle is @wicrow.

On Substack, I’ve been writing journal prompts for those who are thinking about or have left the UPC or other high-control groups. I’ve also written some about my experience of being a Mexican American in the current climate. You can follow me here: https://open.substack.com/pub/survivingchurchandchildhood/p/its-okay-to-like-yourself?r=3glw93&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

I haven’t made a new post on YouTube in a long time. Once I get that going again, I will let you know. 🙂 If you know of anyone who might want me on their podcast or YouTube channel please let me know.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Again, I appreciate your support so much and I hope one day you’ll have my book in your hands and we can celebrate together!

Debbie

Uncategorized, United Pentecostal Church

Being Triggered by Hypocrisy

Deb M

Many of us here in America have been struggling. The election did not go the way we wanted it to, and now we are feeling demoralized. If you’ve been keeping up with my Substack you know that I have been trying to engage in self-care and self-compassion in order to make it through this difficult time.

I have therapy today, and as I’m sipping my coffee, I’m thinking about how the current political landscape reminds me of the church I grew up in. One of the big standouts is hypocrisy. I do not understand how the evangelical church can quote Jesus on the one hand and be so viciously mean on the other. Before I dig into this further, I need to say upfront that I’m not interested in debating with anyone who identifies as MAGA. I’m writing this from the perspective of a survivor, and I will not tolerate any trolls.

When I was a little girl growing up in the United Pentecostal Church, I experienced it as having an undercurrent of meanness. Some of that was due to how judgemental they were, but also because of the classism and racism that was always bubbling under the surface. It never felt safe to me, and although they taught me about Jesus, I couldn’t see him reflected in them. They were a harsh group of people and not likely to show you grace unless you were a man.

I don’t understand how you can be pro-life and care nothing about children and mothers after the baby is born. How am I supposed to see you as caring about family values when you’re okay with separating children from their families? When you despise those seeking asylum and your greedy desire to keep what is yours and not share with those in need, you’re not reflecting the Jesus you claim to be your savior.

I realize I’m probably just preaching to the choir, but I’ve felt a need to voice my feelings. I’m sure many others feel the same way. It’s triggering to be swimming in this political cesspool while constantly being reminded of your religious trauma. I keep returning to the question, why can’t people see through the hypocrisy? Sadly, the answer that floats back to me is that maybe they can, and they don’t care. I believe that the UPC church knows in their heart they are wrong about so many things, but in the end, they just don’t care. They like the feeling of sitting in judgement of others and the feeling of superiority they feel about other Christians. Just like the MAGA evangelicals they use the parts of the Bible, they can twist into a club to hurt others and leave the rest behind. I suspect Jesus is just too woke for them now.

For those of you who have been struggling, I hope you are taking care of yourself. I’m always here to provide any resources I can. You’re not alone in your feelings and questions.

Debbie

Family, Healing, Mother, Parents

Compassion For Mom

Deb M

Sometimes when I’m writing it comes easy and other times it’s a miserable process. Yesterday the words flowed freely and so did my emotions. Years and years ago when I first began working on my memoir I grieved daily because it was as if the writing was taking me farther away from my mother. As I came to terms with the reality of her choices my heart broke and my feet were set on a new journey. I couldn’t look honestly at my story without first being honest about our story. To have compassion for myself I needed to stop making excuses for her. I was too wounded to hold space for both of us. Growing up I held space for her and suffered in silence as my own needs went unmet.

Suddenly yesterday as I pounded out some revisions I sensed a new found compassion for my mother. As I recalled all her tears, her search for connection, and her desire to please her higher power my heart ached to reach back in time. She was failed by everyone in her life who should’ve loved her. In short she was alone and I was there, the only hand to hold onto. As I thought about all this I wished for some tears because I could feel the sadness walled off inside me. They will come one day, I’m sure of it.

Over and over I’m confronted with how writing my memoir is healing me. It’s not a quick fix and it isn’t painless. Thread by thread I’m untying the painful knots within me and that process is enabling me to react from love and not pain. I wonder who my mother would’ve been if she had been given the tools to heal. For now she is returning to me and I’m grateful.

Mother, Trauma

Mother’s Day

Deb M
Mommy and I (age 4 months)

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. My feelings were all over the map. My mother has been gone since 1989. I was only 19 years old when she passed. Our relationship was complicated due to her mental illness and neglectful parenting. When I think about her I feel a sense of deep longing and sadness. So much of the trauma I experience now is directly tied to choices she did or did not make. Sometimes on Mother’s Day, I feel the loss of her, and other years I just feel nothing. I try to push her memory away because it’s tied to my feelings of unworthiness. Yesterday I woke up and she was on my mind. Rather than push her away I tried to just let the feelings be, in other words, I let myself feel my feelings. I’m not the type of person who likes to feel her feelings. I’d rather stay in my mind where it feels safer. I didn’t cry but sadness followed me all day. Maybe it was just her sadness, maybe she was following me all day in spirit. While I was growing up she was often sad in fact it seemed like sadness was her baseline mood. At times it seems like sadness is my baseline mood. Mine comes from childhood and religious trauma. Maybe we are the same. After all, she grew up in an abusive home where God was ready to strike you dead for any offense. Her family never accepted her as she was and she always felt unworthy. Generational trauma is the gift none of us asks for but if you’re in its path it can feel unavoidable.

I was lucky to spend time with almost all my kids and grandson yesterday. It was sunny and warm and no one talked about the end-times. We are an imperfect bunch but I think we all try to accept each other as we are. I wish I could go back in time and give this gift to my mother. I wish she was here to receive the love I know my children would give her. I see her reflected in all of my descendants. It isn’t all sadness. I see her in their love for nature, music, art, and dogs. This reminds me that she is more than her sadness, she gave me many gifts and I think she would be so happy to see how things have turned out. She is a part of every ounce of love I give to them. I’m glad I let her memory in yesterday. I’m glad I allowed myself to feel my feelings.

I hope your Mother’s Day was wonderful! If it wasn’t I’m sorry and I hope you can remember to love yourself and give yourself some compassion.

Book, The United Pentecostal Church, Trauma, Uncategorized, Writing

There Is Always More

Deb M

The last couple of weeks have been a challenge. As you know I’m currently writing a book. I’ve been feeling stuck and frustrated with the process. At the same time I’ve been having many fresh realizations. It feels like more and more layers of UPCI indoctrination are being stripped from me. I’ve had mind blowing ah-has that have left me overwhelmed as I’ve tried to process them. I find myself thinking how strange it is that there is still more to be stripped away. It feels like after all these years there should be nothing left, but there is always more.

For decades I have been seeking to better understand what happened to me when I was a child. I’ve engaged with all sorts of ideas that range from Christian to atheist, always unwinding the past and trying to make sense of it all. Writing my memoir has heightened my questioning which in turn has given me more to unwind and process. Writing while processing can be really taxing and so at times I feel compelled to just surrender to the waves. This means stepping away from my keyboard and taking time to just tear the layers away and see what is underneath. Each wave removes another layer and then there is a tiny transformation, I am changed. Some of these transformations bring joy and that is always a nice surprise. Other transformations reveal another layer of anger and resentment. Next, I have to make peace with whatever has been revealed. I have to learn to accept this new to me self that has been buried deep within. During this time I usually end up asking myself many questions, this part can lead me right back to the unwinding stage. Finally when my emotions and questions have quieted down I can find my way back to the keyboard. Hopefully then my transformed self can bring something fresh, a deeper insight to it all. This is often needed as it can be hard to keep revising the same chapters over and over.

My desire in sharing this with you today is just to reach out. I’m still here, I’m still willing to listen and help, and I’m still working through my own trauma. Please feel free to check in and let me know how you’re doing. Now, I’ve got to get back to my book.

Deb

Rapture Anxiety, The United Pentecostal Church, Trauma, Writing

Writing and Trauma

Deb M

Hello and happy February! I’m sorry I have been away for so long. I’ve been spending much of my free time focusing on my book. It is coming along nicely and I can’t wait to share it all with you. I’m not gonna lie, the editing process has been tough. As I dig deeper and deeper into my own story more and more trauma is uncovered. Along with that, the same old trauma is always waiting for me on the page. I find myself wishing I could just let it all go and not have to keep coping with the triggers that jump out at me when I’m alone.

The writing process requires you to ask yourself many questions. One of the first ones is, why are you writing this book? It’s a good question. Why would I want to relive all the pain and trauma I’ve suffered? Why not just ignore it all and move on with my life? The short answer is that ignoring it is never an answer. It is a part of me and not something I can choose not to look at. The longer answer is that I want to share my experiences in hopes that it will help other survivors feel less alone. A surprising reason to write this book has been to bring about additional unexpected healing for myself. Unfortunately, healing doesn’t often happen without pain. I believe that many people avoid healing because they know that the path through it will bring sadness and the facing of demons from the past.

If you’re a United Pentecostal lurking on my page I hope that you will come to see that the damage done to survivors of your organization is long-lasting. It is never as easy as no longer being bitter and just forgiving. Right now as I’m revising my book two things are looming large in my mind. The first one is the Steve Dahl portion. Through the process of revising I’ve come to realize that the damage he caused me is so much greater than I ever imagined. Its echoes have infected all of my relationships with the opposite sex and my entire sex life. That is a high cost to pay for what many have told me is a long-ago event that I should just get over. It has been heart-wrenching to write about, but what came after was almost worse. Calvary Gospel church and the way they treated me is unforgivable. Writing it all out and seeing it all through my 53-year-old eyes and understanding has brought about a clarity I never had before. I will never understand how grown adults who are supposed to be part of a faith centered on love can just turn their backs on a child. It was mean, petty, and life-wrecking. Writing about it makes my chest literally hurt. A blackness follows me around when I spend too much time focused on these parts of my book. I dissociate and have to remind myself that I have value and I’m worthy. The UPC church can seem very loving until it isn’t. If writing my book can save one person from that heartache it will have been worth it. In the meantime, I battle my demons. Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose.

The second monster I cope with while writing is the Book of Revelations monster. Thank goodness for EMDR therapy. https://www.apa.org/ptsd-guideline/treatments/eye-movement-reprocessing. Without it, I would not be able to write about the rapture and everything that goes with it. That being said, this doesn’t mean that I’m not triggered or that it isn’t scary. I’m not afraid of the rapture I’m afraid of my memories of being taught about it. When I write about it I get that same pain in my chest and a sense of dread follows me for days. These ideas planted in my mind before I even went to school have been with me for as long as I can remember. Visuals pop into my head unbidden and then it can take days to chase them off into the corners of my mind. They’re not gone but they’re not threatening to take over anymore. It is during these times that I wonder why the church focused on hell and the end times so much. There is so much you can teach a small child about god and the Bible. Because the scary stories of the Bible were taught to me so young they took over my mind and everything else about god seemed secondary. Who cares about all those Sunday school stories when we are talking about a god who might throw me into a lake of fire to burn forever. It’s like talking about a serial killer and everyone wanting to focus on how he bakes good cookies. It just seems like the cookies don’t matter if he might slit your throat at any moment. I’m choosing to go through the trauma dredged up in this part of the book for survivors as well. I’m going through it for all the little girls afraid to sleep at night. Afraid they might miss the rapture. I’m writing it for all the adults I know who still fear being left behind. I see you and you’re not crazy.

I’ve been rambling. I’m sorry. When I write about the traumatic responses I experience I get flooded. It can be hard to write as clearly as I want to. If reading this has triggered you here are a few things you can do:

  1. Call a friend who understands. At times we just need to be reminded we are safe.
  2. Get outside. I like to put some happy music on and go for a walk.
  3. Yoga, or some other kind of movement. Yoga really helps me to slow my breathing down.
  4. Cleanse your mental palate. Watch a funny TV show, work on a craft or project that requires concentration, or do something social.
  5. EFT https://focus.psychiatryonline.org/doi/10.1176/foc.8.1.foc32 You can find tons of free videos on YouTube.
Inner critic, United Pentecostal Church, Writing

My Inner UPCI Critic

Deb M

As I’ve been on my writing journey I’ve learned that I have a lot of inner critic work to do. After all this time I thought I knew who my inner critics were and the purpose they served. Last week while chatting with a friend I realized that many of my inner critics are tied to a UPCI inner critic. She’s mean, she hates me, and her main purpose seems to be to make me afraid. Sure she’d like me to fear hell’s flames and eternal damnation but more than that she wants me to fear telling my story. She throws up arguments that center on rejection and judgement from people who wrote me off a long time ago. She reminds me of the pain and tears they’ve caused me and she tells me to shut up before I’m hurt again. She blames me for my trauma and warns me of all the bad things that could happen if I keep writing. Her face resembles a conglomeration of all the mean church ladies I’ve ever known. Because of the work that I’ve done I know that she is making herself mean and scary to keep me from being hurt. The remedy is to remind her that I’m ok. I’ve survived and there is nothing the church can say to me or about me that they haven’t already said. She is the front line of my defenses. She snarls and bites, warns and glares. Behind all that is a scared wounded child desiring safety. I’m grateful for her attempts to keep me safe and I honor all her contributions to my survival. I could ask her to take an extended vacation but I think I will let her continue to stand alongside me for a little longer. Now that I understand this part of myself better I can apply self-compassion and feel gratitude for her service.

If you would like to receive updates about how the writing process is going for me please sign up for my email list at:

https://mailchi.mp/6536b5e0fb30/debbie-mcnulty

Book, Childhood

Inspiration

Deb M

Back around nine months ago I created a playlist to help me out when I was feeling uninspired. Some of these songs remind me of my parents or myself during childhood. Other songs are more thematic and stir up memories and feelings about childhood events. I finally feel like I’m ready to share this playlist here.

https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBpCKCSApwN3swEgQhWgBi6SA2AoZt3on&si=sgLoOlenuonAQzIH

I hope you enjoy this little peek into my childhood and process.