About Systematic Rape and Sexual Abuse in the Catholic Church

WARNING: Content includes talk of rape, coverup and sexual abuse. Proceed with caution.

What can I say? That it literally took getting secular police involved to expose the scandal? That coverup and lies were the norm? That the Church has traumatized people with its policies against my loving God? It is literally the scandal of our time. Now, there is at least one person calling on the current Pope to resign. This is beginning to raise questions in the minds of people. 

Are there people who don’t know who their fathers are because of the coverup policies? The answer is yes. The media exposed at least one. Are there people who are suffering from HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases because of the policies of the church? There hasn’t been anyone exposed yet, but I’m sure there are. Are there celebrities who have been abused by priests and are dealing with the repercussions in rage? I don’t know, but Kevin Smith, the mind behind the movie Dogma, is a good candidate. I’m not saying he was abused, but his material makes you wonder. 

This is also raising questions in my own mind and heart.  

Did my best friend suffer at the hands of somebody in the Catholic Church? Yes, I was best friends with a Catholic girl. We met in public school. I’m not sure if she did suffer, since I never saw her get alone with anyone working in the church, but you’re never quite sure. How many of my friends and colleagues suffered at the hands of these priests and others? How much sex did superiors extort from the priests in the coverups? You know, how much “Suck my dick or I’ll tell” happened? We may never know.  

Now here’s the meat of the conversation: How many people were turned away from God because of these actions? How much hypocrisy does it take to get people to hate God? I hear it isn’t much these days. That is what the Catholic Church ought to be worried about. Their hypocrisy has become a destructive force to their ministry. The scandal they tried to avoid, only blew up in their faces.  

What does the Catholic Church do at this point? The Bible says, “If we confess our sins, He (God) is able to forgive us our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) But they must do more. They must understand that people, including priests and nuns, are human, and as such, have sinful desires, such as sex with children and teenagers. They need a plan to expose and purge out the evil, not cover it up. We are living in the effect of covering it up. The Church has let the leprosy grow, and now the resulting scandal threatens them all.  

I guess, the one thing we need to learn is: Your sins will find you out.  

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My Relationship with the Mask

Masking autism is nothing new to me. There is a public persona, and there is a private persona.  

It’s not to say that nobody wears a mask at some point. I believe everyone wears a mask to hide their pain. The autistic person’s mask, on the other hand, is much more encouraged to be put on because their private persona is literally vilified. They are taught that their private, and therefore true, persona is a weirdo, a freak, and has no place in this world. 

I’m no stranger to this treatment. Even my sweet nephew called me a freak in anger at one time. People throughout my school years taunted me, teased me, mocked me, and finally excluded me. Even people I thought were my friends. In truth, I spent the last day of school walking home. Alone.  

This is why I developed a mask…too late for high school, though. A mask worthy of the so-called compliment “But you don’t look autistic!” A mask made of body fat, smiles and social graces which has caused people not to think I am autistic. Finally, I was accepted, but not happy. I was polite; but I was not real.  

The mask has saved me from countless taunting and exclusion from my peers, for the most part. It has made me a few friends. Until my late thirties my mask was worn firmly on my face, to the point that I did not know where I ended and the mask began. It was as if my mask had taken over and become my skin. 

But the mask has worn out its welcome. It has gotten some sort of sand or gravel behind it and is hurting my face.  

So, by starting this blog, and healing through therapy and support, I have slowly peeled the mask off, along with some layers of dead skin, to heal and develop the thick skin I was supposed to have years ago. I need to get real. I need to heal.  

I am now working on integrating the public and private personae. I have not arrived at the point where I can take the mask of fully yet, but I am getting there. One day, I’ll finally be able to be myself, fully. I will not need a mask anymore.  

We Need to Bust Some Mental Health Myths

Of course, you all know by now that accessories designer Kate Spade died by suicide. I’m not going to get into the details, but you can Google them any time you like. Somebody even leaked the VERY PRIVATE note she left for her daughter at the site. (Not cool.) Anyway, we need to talk about it. There has been a huge spike in suicides since, too.

I have decided to see what myths I could bust concerning suicide, and in extension, mental health.

Let me start with this one: One of the things most people get wrong about depression and suicide is that every case of depression has a rational origin. That is not always true. Sure, some of them have rational beginnings, but this is not always the case. No amount of money, success or fame is going to save you from something inside your head. It’s in your country already!

It is also a myth held by most people that mental health problems don’t affect them. I wonder – do you ever really know the people who know? Do you know what they face, how much energy they expend to just get ready for the day? Conservative estimates state that one in five people suffer from a mental illness. Those are Conservative estimates. Midline estimates state one in four, by the way.
Kate Spade just subverted the myth that people with mental health needs, even those who are managing their mental illness, cannot tolerate the stress of holding down a job. She designed some of the best handbags ever for a living. I myself held down a high-stress job at In-N-Out Burger for six years, with periodical raises. I could utilize my strengths to fit the job perfectly. Anyway, I don’t have to argue with you on how well I can hold down a job. Especially with the help of medication one can take in the morning and go on with the rest of your day, many people with mental illness hold down perfectly good jobs, in all industries.

Here’s another myth we can kick down: Personality weakness or character flaws cause mental health problems. People with mental health problems can snap out of it if they try hard enough. In what universe? Look, if some gruff person in a fur or leather jacket could actually snap a person out of mental illness, I know of people who could make millions doing exactly that! But trying to make a person “Man Up, You Big Girl!!!!!” never works, and leads anyone down the road further to suicide. Aren’t we trying to prevent that?
I would like to also bust this myth. “There is no hope for people with mental health problems. Once a friend or family member develops mental health problems, he or she will never recover.” Sure, the problem may never go away, as it is not a cold, but we can live with it using the proper treatments and parameters. A little sidetrack: Did you know that in the 1848 novel Moby Dick, whales are scientifically classified as fish? The point is, both the medical and scientific communities can be wrong and need to correct themselves at times. It has happened before. Why not let it happen again?

Finally, and this is the big one: “Once a person wants to kill themselves, they are destined to do it.” Not true! I’ll tell you a story of a man who jumped over the side of the Golden Gate Bridge. He is one of the few to survive, by the way. Once he left the safety of the bridge, he regretted doing it. On the way down, he prayed to survive. He did – barely – but the regret stayed with him. He has never tried it again. Now, it doesn’t always take an extreme case of attempt to bring about the will to live. It may sometimes, but sometimes, just telling somebody is enough to deter it. In my case, that is what happened to me. I told somebody who told my mother, who got me help. It was in this instance I learned I had depression. It did not take a long time for me to learn how easy it is to manage, when you do what is necessary, even to the point of stigma.

Anyway, these are a few of the myths out there.

The Extent of My Autism Accommodations: A Very Short Article.

REGULAR AID:

Disability Income: Roughly $1050 a month. That’s it. (Good thing my mother helps me with her income.)
Medicare with Extra Help: Keeps my medicine payments down to $25. (See below.)

SERVICES I MUST PAY FOR:

Medicines to keep me from dying: $25.
Psychological Therapy: $40. Per appointment. I don’t get this. If I want to eat, I must sacrifice this.

*

Basically, all I get is Basic Disability Income and Extra Help from the Medicare people. That’s it. I pay for everything else to some extent. Any other services are out of my reach financially. Therefore, any other services are useless to me. Any service is useless if you can’t get it.

You Don’t Know Me

So, autistic parent who thinks that just because I don’t act EXACTLY like your child, I’m not autistic enough? You don’t know me! Person who thinks I am a dismiss-worthy weirdo? You don’t know me!

You don’t know how intense, loud and colorful I experience the world. You don’t even know how your own child experiences the world. It could be more intense, or maybe it could be less intense. Or, and this is more likely, it may be a combination of both – more intense in some areas, or less intense in other areas.

 You don’t know how much I struggle to come up with the right word. You don’t know how I witness almost every conversation (or interview, in some cases) can go down in flames because I say the wrong word. You don’t know. You don’t know the nights I spent awake agonizing and finally coming up with the right words to say, long after the opportunity to say them is gone.

 You don’t know how I have no emotional memory. You don’t know the hours I spend in private because I am crying over my own pain, or the pain of someone else. You don’t know that I am currently wishing people would just evacuate the Big Island of Hawaii because it seems to be exploding to me.

 Are you psychic? Can you read my mind? Of course not. Maybe if you could, you would be more understanding and accepting of my differences.

Your Family is Dysfunctional? Mine Too!

So, the tabloid TV people are ragging on Meghan Markle’s family for being somewhat dysfunctional. It only seems fair to point out that the various lines of the British Royal Family have been dysfunctional since 1066, and earlier if I could ever get the records. Even Prince Harry’s own immediate family has been dysfunctional. I won’t get into it. You can Google that yourself.

I would also like to point out that family dysfunction is actually quite common in this day and age. What is the right marriage? What is the right family? Just about everybody enters adulthood somewhat messed up. I won’t get into that either, but just remember that.

Oh, and one more thing: I opened your closet, you judgmental being, you, and a few skeletons fell out. You might want to clean that up.

It’s Time to Rename Asperger’s Syndrome: How about Autism?

Hans Asperger. A supposed “hero” for the autistic white boys who lived in Nazi Germany….not so much. It has recently been revealed that he sent undesirable children to the execution programs, particularly if they were female, or of “mixed Jewish Blood,” which meant damnation in Nazi Germany. Now some people who identify with Asperger’s Syndrome are in shock and despair, wondering what to do or how to identify next?

I’ll be honest: I never really identified as “Asperger’s Syndrome,” because it did not fit the more-accurate childhood diagnosis I received, and my mother fought for endlessly. Sure, knowing you were different hurt at first, but I slowly realized that knowing your condition/impairment was a real advantage in getting along with the world. Now, back to the question at hand: what to do with Hans Asperger’s legacy? Now, this might seem radical to some, but why not avail yourself to current research and hitch your wagon to Leo Kanner’s horse? What is currently known as Asperger’s Syndrome and a form of autism are basically the same thing, are they not?

Quit trying to separate yourself or your child from the advantages given in being a member of the autistic tribe. Being autistic means that those supposedly strange requests are now reasonable accommodations. Being autistic means that you have a name, tribe and culture to identify with – that involves Ghostbusters. Being autistic means that said culture will love you endlessly and unconditionally, knowing you or your child are one of its own. Sure, your life seems harder because you have an identifiable difference, but isn’t it easier than hitching your wagon to a Nazi?