Unsacred Cow
28th August 2009, 03:16 PM
This week I had a rather interesting experience while spending some leisure time at a local swimming centre (that will teach me to get a life!). I thought I’d share it with you. I’d be interested to hear how others think they may have responded had they been in the same predicament.
It’s a bit of a long story so grab a beer, coffee or whatever your poison. I'm having a glass of wine so....cheers!
I had just completed a session of laps and was lolling about in the deep end of the pool. The pool was deserted apart from one other lady. I estimate she was probably in her late 50’s. As is my way with people, I make some light conversation with her. I’ve generally found conversations with those older than me to be usually rather interesting in some way.
The lady begins by telling me her story as to why she’s in the swimming pool in that she has a back injury and that it provides therapy for her condition. For some reason she feels quite comfortable in elaborating even further again (this happens to me a lot). Her injury has required that she see a psychiatrist, an event she wasn't happy about. I offer my irreverent view of psychiatrists having had a fairly ordinary encounter with one in my early 20’s as well as some psychologists during my life. This is when it starts to get interesting.
She became curious as to why I’d needed to see a psychiatrist—I don’t consider it a secret or shameful, just a part of my life’s journey so I reveal that I saw a psychiatrist for an eating disorder/body image issue at that point in my life. She then reveals to me that she’s a xtian and that upon meeting with her shrink she’d asked him if he’d mind if she said a prayer before they began their session and would he also mind whether she laid hands on him while doing so. Apparently the shrink obliged.
So we take a slight turn toward Weirdsville in my head. She starts to elude as to what the cause behind eating disorders and body image issues are in her opinion. I know what she’s getting at instantly because of my background in xtian charismatic fundamentalism. Those thoughts and actions are from Satan. She asks me if I know what she’s talking about. I say, "I know exactly where you are coming from". She then starts to slowly loom closer and asks me for my credentials. "Have you ever asked Jesus Christ into your life? Have you had full immersion baptism? Have you been baptised in the Holy Spirit?" "I have ticked all those boxes in the past", I say. "Oh so you’re not with doG now then?" No is my answer. "You really need to get back to doG", she says. She’s close now and slowly my personal space is starting to look like it’s going to soon be encroached upon. I’m treading water in the deep end with nobody around. I’m only just over the 5” mark so I start to feel like I'm in way over my head here in more ways than one.
She then begins to give me more background knowledge on her life, telling me her daughter is with a bi-polar guy who she believes is filled with spirits. Spirits that she’s had to bind when visiting, through intercessory prayer. Also saying that her daughter has said the most terrible things to her and equates that to being under Satan’s spell. Well, by this point we’ve long vacated Weirdsville and quickly made our way to Crazytown in my opinion. I’m becoming ever concerned I might be in for another full immersion baptism at her hands if I were to say the wrong thing from her perspective. She asks whether I would like to ask doG back into my life right there and then. I say no as I start looking for the closest ladder and wishing an aquarobics class would interupt proceedings. Or a pool cleaner. Or even a moth so I could say, "look at that!", and make a run for it. After all, she’s also armed with a pool noodle.
She asks if she can pray for me. I counter it with a question, "can you do it without me being here?" She says no. I let her know I’d rather she didn’t. She smiles curtly. By this time I’ve made my way to the ladder and mention I was required to pick up the toddler from the crèche so I had to leave. She assured me, as I was making my exit from the scene, that we would meet again. She asks her final question, why did I think doG had put her there. She also was certain that I would have something wonderful to tell her when meeting again. There were answers I could have given but to what avail when dealing with a person who has clearly had their sense of reality taken away from them. I left caught between empathy for a person trapped in a lie and indignity at having had to endure such an ordeal in a public place.
It’s a bit of a long story so grab a beer, coffee or whatever your poison. I'm having a glass of wine so....cheers!
I had just completed a session of laps and was lolling about in the deep end of the pool. The pool was deserted apart from one other lady. I estimate she was probably in her late 50’s. As is my way with people, I make some light conversation with her. I’ve generally found conversations with those older than me to be usually rather interesting in some way.
The lady begins by telling me her story as to why she’s in the swimming pool in that she has a back injury and that it provides therapy for her condition. For some reason she feels quite comfortable in elaborating even further again (this happens to me a lot). Her injury has required that she see a psychiatrist, an event she wasn't happy about. I offer my irreverent view of psychiatrists having had a fairly ordinary encounter with one in my early 20’s as well as some psychologists during my life. This is when it starts to get interesting.
She became curious as to why I’d needed to see a psychiatrist—I don’t consider it a secret or shameful, just a part of my life’s journey so I reveal that I saw a psychiatrist for an eating disorder/body image issue at that point in my life. She then reveals to me that she’s a xtian and that upon meeting with her shrink she’d asked him if he’d mind if she said a prayer before they began their session and would he also mind whether she laid hands on him while doing so. Apparently the shrink obliged.
So we take a slight turn toward Weirdsville in my head. She starts to elude as to what the cause behind eating disorders and body image issues are in her opinion. I know what she’s getting at instantly because of my background in xtian charismatic fundamentalism. Those thoughts and actions are from Satan. She asks me if I know what she’s talking about. I say, "I know exactly where you are coming from". She then starts to slowly loom closer and asks me for my credentials. "Have you ever asked Jesus Christ into your life? Have you had full immersion baptism? Have you been baptised in the Holy Spirit?" "I have ticked all those boxes in the past", I say. "Oh so you’re not with doG now then?" No is my answer. "You really need to get back to doG", she says. She’s close now and slowly my personal space is starting to look like it’s going to soon be encroached upon. I’m treading water in the deep end with nobody around. I’m only just over the 5” mark so I start to feel like I'm in way over my head here in more ways than one.
She then begins to give me more background knowledge on her life, telling me her daughter is with a bi-polar guy who she believes is filled with spirits. Spirits that she’s had to bind when visiting, through intercessory prayer. Also saying that her daughter has said the most terrible things to her and equates that to being under Satan’s spell. Well, by this point we’ve long vacated Weirdsville and quickly made our way to Crazytown in my opinion. I’m becoming ever concerned I might be in for another full immersion baptism at her hands if I were to say the wrong thing from her perspective. She asks whether I would like to ask doG back into my life right there and then. I say no as I start looking for the closest ladder and wishing an aquarobics class would interupt proceedings. Or a pool cleaner. Or even a moth so I could say, "look at that!", and make a run for it. After all, she’s also armed with a pool noodle.
She asks if she can pray for me. I counter it with a question, "can you do it without me being here?" She says no. I let her know I’d rather she didn’t. She smiles curtly. By this time I’ve made my way to the ladder and mention I was required to pick up the toddler from the crèche so I had to leave. She assured me, as I was making my exit from the scene, that we would meet again. She asks her final question, why did I think doG had put her there. She also was certain that I would have something wonderful to tell her when meeting again. There were answers I could have given but to what avail when dealing with a person who has clearly had their sense of reality taken away from them. I left caught between empathy for a person trapped in a lie and indignity at having had to endure such an ordeal in a public place.