My mother hated her mother. She used to tell me some of the awful things her mother said to her as she was growing up. My grandmother lived in Philadelphia and was estranged from everyone, except my uncle, and he could barely tolerate her. We had begun our family life in the east, but had moved west, and my mother refused any contact from my grandmother. I had never in my life met her, and was to live my entire life without ever meeting her. Once a card arrived in the mail. “My dear sweet daughter,” it read. My mother flew into a rage and telephoned my uncle. “Find out what she wants,” she yelled, “and take care of it!” He did. She wanted money, I guess.
Narcissistic Personality Disorder happens because of nurture, not nature, and my mother had it, although I was not able to find a name for her problem until I was a grandmother myself. Everything was everyone else’s fault, never her own, and she took credit for everything good. Not that there weren’t good moments, but her three children and two husbands were battered emotionally and psychologically.
When I was sixteen, I received the incredible blessing of finding The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was popular enough, and smart in school, I had talents, but I was empty to a great degree and spiritually starving. The second I entered a Mormon meetinghouse, an amazing spirit surged over me, and I knew I had found the place that would be my sanctuary and life-blood. My membership in the Church of Jesus Christ saved me from many things. It was 1962, and the principles of the gospel saved me from the tides of the turbulent sixties—“free love,” mind-expanding drugs, and other destructive behaviors that exploded onto the social scene during the decade.
When I married, I found I was competent as a wife, affectionate and fun, but I was a complete wimp as far as putting up any opinion of import. I was so afraid of being my mother, I became just the opposite. I worked to improve my self-image, even as many people looked up to me for my talents and intellect. I learned directly from my Heavenly Father that self-deprecation is not humility. Humility enables God to teach you, to reach you. It is necessary to progress in the gospel. Self-deprecation stops you in your tracks.
Through the years I would strive to forgive and to gain a healthy self-image, absolutely set on making sure my own children would not be victims of a mentally ill mother. The Church of Jesus Christ has a name for people who stop these inherited behaviors in their families and turn things around. They are called “Saviors on Mount Zion.” Not only would I raise children with a healthy self image who could love their mom, I would raise them in the True Church, with blessings my ancestors had never known. I was succeeding. I was doing a good job.
I was a mom and a grandmother doing just fine, and I started a little business that demanded selling. I was OK during the day, but a wreck at night. In my dreams, I couldn’t find a bathroom, I couldn’t do the dishes, I couldn’t sweep the house. I was a complete incompetent as a human being. Why was I such a train wreck?
I sought answers from the Lord at the hands of the Priesthood. The “Priesthood” in Mormonism is defined as the power and authority to act in the name of God. All worthy men in the Church of Jesus Christ may hold this priesthood. Since the Church has a lay clergy, they use their priesthood to administer the affairs of the Church as they are called upon to do so, but they also use this power and authority in their own homes. A husband and father with the priesthood may lay his hands upon the heads of his wife and children to give them a “priesthood blessing.” I sought a priesthood blessing from my husband. Such blessings can heal or give comfort, and deliver revelation from God. The priesthood holder is a conduit through which God can speak to us.
I hoped God would tell me the business I was engaged in was approved of by Him. I thought that would solve my problem. I thought He might encourage me, so I could be more confident. But instead, He praised me for the love and forgiveness I had exercised throughout my life. And then He healed me from the psychological abuse I had been raised with. This blessing was completely unexpected. It astonished me.
I have to tell you. I had thought I was alright. I didn’t know I needed healing. I was living my life and raising my children and doing fine.
But during the next two weeks, I felt a physical change. It was as if I had a thousand little dams inside my body, and they were dissolving one by one. Spiritual energy flowed through me unimpeded. When the process was complete, I was completely uninjured. Several things happened. All my defenses were dissolved. I worried, lest I would be too vulnerable or too “in your face.” I was simply me, just “out there,” up front, no masks, no illusions. I began to hurt for the billions of injured people in the world. How rare it must be for a person to be in my new condition.
My husband had to adjust a little to the “new me.” I became much more forthright in offering my opinion on things, though my native kindness and patience temper that as they always have.
For those of you whose loved ones have died leaving an emotional mess behind, I will tell you something I have learned. My parents had both passed on when I received this healing, and they engineered the whole thing. I had other spiritual experiences to confirm this. Earth life ends with many things un-reconciled. People leave this life with mistaken ideas and broken relationships. I can testify that much goes on in the afterlife to fix these things, and healing can occur, if we call upon the Great Physician, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. He guided my deceased parents, who in turn, supplicated Him to intervene in my case. How excited I am now to reunite with them at the end of my own life on earth.