The FALLEN

I was raised in the Episcopal Church, half Catholic and half Protestant, at least as far as symbolism and the rituals seemed to go. That was just my opinion for a long time. My father was Presbyterian, my Mum Catholic and they compromised after they were married by going to the Episcopal Church.

At the age of 12, I was an Alter Boy, I was confirmed, I left the church and I was raped, though the sexual assault had NOTHING to do with ministers or any church. That needs to be made clear there was NO connection there except I was 12 years old at the time. But all those things happened to me at age 12. I was fascinated by what Jesus did and experienced in his days before the Cross. The Crucifixion mesmerized me, I simply couldn't comprehend what men, human beings did to the Son Of Man.


From: "The Passion Of The Christ"



My mother told me that whenever the movie Jesus Of Nazareth was on I had to watch it. I've stated here on Shell Shock that once, as a boy I made a crown of thorns and put it on my head to feel what that was like. I had taken my full sized GI Joe, built a rough Cross and crucified Joe making a small diorama depicting that scene on Golgotha that day. And this was long before my sexual assault. Strange, mysterious stuff, indeed...Did I sense what was coming? I guess I'll never really know...



But it was at the age of 12 and after being raped that I turned away from the Church, all of it: the physical Episcopal Church I had attended, my belief in Jesus as my personal Savior...the whole thing. I believe now that I was reacting out of anger and shame. I did not feel CLEAN. I felt dirty because of what happened to me and I felt responsible. I felt like an outcast, abandoned for ever by God and society because of what I let happen to me.

I was 12 YEARS OLD and in my shattered, confused mind my life was over. The Poet/Writer/Musician Patti Smith wrote in one of her most famous works: "Jesus died for someones sins but not mine". That is exactly the way I felt at that time. The entire line from her song Gloria is this:

Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine
meltin' in a pot of thieves
wild card up my sleeve
slick heart of stone
my sins my own
they belong to me, me

I really identified with those lyrics when I heard them long after the event. I felt responsible, those sins were Mine, Mine, Mine, they belonged to Me, Me, Me. That was a sub-conscious chant going on in my head that eventually turned to: You are Bad, Bad, Bad as in a bad person. Then ultimately in my mid-forties that lament, that had turned to I HATE me, HATE Me, HATE Me and what I'd become.


By the time I tried to commit suicide in 2006 I simply hated Thom. I hated everything about me. Lost?! That hardly seems adequate to describe what I really felt like then. It makes me physically sweat just sitting here thinking about that time. I have never before drawn the parallels of my interest in the Crucifixion and my experienced being raped. Never matched the timeline and have just recently realized that I left the church after that had happened.

As I think back on the days when I was so lost, so hurt...to the best of my recollection I still believed there was a God. I think I felt that he didn't believe in me and I figured: "Why would he?!". I was a horrible person, a failure as a human being. the depth of my self-loathing ran SO deep, that web was so complex that it is shocking to me today that I came out of that situation somewhat intact or survived at all.

Today is Good Friday, my first experience going through the Easter weekend as a Christian. I think it is safe to assume that I will probably continue this story. From being Fallen to Saved. My spiritual life is and has been an important element in my day to day recovery from alcoholism/addiction.

I am fascinated by the visions I had as a young boy. I really had a deep passion to try and understand what happened to Jesus during the days leading up to and including his death on the Cross.