I was looking through Facebook the other night. Bored with it, I decided to bring up my old catholic elementary school. Sensing any danger here?
I don’t know why I have to torture myself. The other day I took a picture of my stomach because I wanted to look at it every time I was debating whether to exercise or not. Now I’m sure you are saying to yourself, she doesn’t sound Catholic at all.
I describe myself as a “jaded ex-catholic”. I really have to take that hint of pride out of my voice when I say that. If you have been what I have been through at the hands of the nuns and students of my old school it’s easy to feel self-righteous.
Back to Facebook, I was amazed that the school actually had 99 likes if any at all. They must have forced the “out to pasture” old nuns to “like” them.
It took and is taking all my strength not to post “YOU RUINED MY LIFE, YOU BASTARDS!” Harsh you say? You have no idea the venomous hate I have for that sanctuary of God.
I went through their page and shuddered when I found photos of the playground/parking lot and the front of the school. I definitely have some PTSD. My upper lip broke out in a sweat when I clicked on the website to find the list of faculty members. I was expecting to see Sister Sean Joseph, Sister Rosemary or Sister John Vienna staring back at me. I wasn’t thinking rationally. The nuns were obviously dead after 30 years, remembering that made me feel better.
After a few more minutes of this, I had a revelation, as if a voice whispered to me saying “You don’t have to keep looking at this!” and I clicked out.