this is what happened to me:

[Caprice]

this happened between the dates of June 13th and November 14th(ish) of 2007. It has taken me this long, through enough reading, and studying of what I was truly involved with, to build enough strength to tell what happened. I wrote this to a friend who is currently in China and she has yet to be able to reply. I recently sent a duplicate copy to a friend who is currently still a Mormon. She was a very good friend, we dated, but she thinks I made this all up. She thinks it is an interesting story. I have never felt so sick, but it is truly what happened. I want you all to know. I want you all to know exactly what happened to me:

[I have elaborated more for the sake of you all because not all of you are familiar with how Mormons think]

I left on a Tuesday to meet my cousin in provo (june 12th). I was going to stay with him and his family for the night. Wednesday they took me and dropped me off at the MTC (Missionary Training Center). We were greeted warmly and everything was going just how I envisioned it; as the true way that Jesus would have me go and learn and do. The days at the MTC consisted between 8 – 10 hours spent in a room per day for studying and learning. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and a 1 hour gym period everyday. I ran for every gym. We always went outside, and my companion always wanted to play soccer, which I love, but they were just a mass of people kicking the ball around. So, I ran on my own. I first started at running for 15 minutes at a time and by the time we left the MTC I was doing 45 minutes easy. The only things that bothered me at the MTC was if there was one little slip, no matter what it was, and how it was, you’re gone, you’re sent home. Another small thing, was how revered the district presidents were. The missionaries treated them as if about to bow before them or something. I just disregarded it and persevered until we made it to Mexico.
When we got there (on August 13th), we were greeted by the assistants to the president and taken to the mission home and then we went and ate with our mission president (in Mexico City). He was from monterrey and spoke no English. He was a very flamboyant, exuberant person. When I first met him I held him in the highest regard.
I got my companion at changes (every 3, 6, or 9 weeks (maybe more) half the missionaries in the mission meet at a chapel and exchange companions or take on new ones to replace the ones who have completed their 2 year mission) and he took me to our area, about 35 miles west of Mexico City (to a city called Toluca). The first 3 weeks were fine. I was happy, and I was determined to work and teach the people. My companion was very good, Elder Garcia from Guadalarjara. He was 25 and a convert. I was with him for 3 weeks before he broke his toe playing a game of soccer. He was transferred to the mission home. The mission gave me an Elder Cortes who helped me see what kind of mission was going on. With him I learned that most missionaries there, all that they cared about was baptizing. All that they wanted to do was baptize people. I was with Elder Cortes for almost 3 weeks, I then got Elder Garcia back after he broke his toe. I got him back at the next changes. But instead of returning to our area, me and the other American Elders had to go take care of Visa work. Me and my companion from the MTC got to talk and he told me all the stuff going on in the mission where he was. He said him and his comp watch rated R movies all the time, listen to music, and his companion had a girlfriend. The thing was, his companion explained, if you can still do the work, still baptize, then you can do those things because they don’t interfere with the work. He told me that all the missionaries over there did that stuff and it was normal. The whole mission even had a nickname for cute girls so missionaries could talk about her around her without her even knowing. The only difference between me and Elder Cook (my companion from the MTC) was that he had no problem with what was going on. There was a new rule that our president made that if we don’t get 3 baptisms a month then we have an interview with him. And if the following month we still don’t get more than 3 baptisms, we get disciplined. So, we had a quota, something that disturbed me. Elder Cook told me that president also had a deal going on. That if you and your companion baptized 10 people in a month, you get a new watch. And if you all baptize more than 20 a month, you get a new suit. One Elder I learned of, I even saw his certificate for this at the mission home before I left. Him and his companion baptized 28 people in one month. Not only did they get new watches and suits, but they were taken out for a very nice dinner and they got the certificate. This Elder, who did the 28 baptisms, he also had a girlfriend in every area he had been in. They told me that president knew, but turned a blind eye. Because if you are still baptizing, everything is OK.

I soon was feeling sick, and disturbed by what was going on around me. I tried, over and over, to get through my days. My OCD took off and I couldn’t stop clenching my fingers, blinking my eyes, or swallowing because I would get so nervous sometimes. I made a list of what it was going to take for me to survive the mission. What it was going to take for me to become someone strong enough to do this. I soon realized my biggest fault. I did not want to let go of my family/my home I left. In the MTC and in the mission field, we were constantly reminded this: that church comes before family. That the church, comes before everything. Because if you serve the church, and do what the leaders tell you, everything else will be OK. I automatically felt like it was a ransom or something. Every missionary in the field I met, who was able to serve and do it, had become totally numb to memories and emotions. They wrote shotty letters to their families back home and they didn’t care about anything they left, the person they left. I was soon terrified. Because I realized, that the mission was going to turn me into someone I did not want to be. One for the church would argue that I was becoming who the Lord wanted me to be. I would argue, that life is for us to live and chose and be who we want to be. I soon realized what I had to do. Because I no longer wanted to serve the mission. But the part that depressed me the most, was all the heartache and shame from my family that was going to come from it (in Mormonism, any young man who returns from a mission before completing it is looked down upon. They will never be up-to-par with other young men who have served missions. They can go back and complete the mission, but that means, they still have to complete the mission). I wrote president a letter, asking him to let me go see the mission doctor because I felt like I have clinical depression and im very miserable. And if he didn’t, I was going to go to DF, get my passport, and head home. He was very, objective, but after I broke down in tears he said he would make an appointment for the next day. This was a Tuesday. The assistants, one in particular, his friendly and smiling face he always had for me turned to disgust and an almost hatred. I got my new companion (at changes again, because Changes is the only window one has to make a break for it) and was transferred to an area right outside mexico city. He was an American and very nice.

We went in the morning on Wednesday to see the doctor in mexico city. The whole way I was so nervous and pushing myself to keep going because I thought that we would not make it. and I would miss this shot at getting out of mexico city. We got there, and I talked with the doctor. In describing to him how I felt, I started hyperventilating. I was having a panic attack and didn’t even know it. I asked him whats happening to me and he told me I was having a panic attack. He got on the phone to a church psycologist and I talked with him. But in talking with him and trying to describe to him how I felt, I had another panic attack. They both were in agreement that I needed to go home, I was too unstable.

But, since it was mexico city, the church offices were headquartered there. And the area Seventy was there (in the church, the power from the top down is: The Prophet, and then, The 12 Apostles, and then, The Seventy. They are the ones who look over the missions and the "work" going on around the world).

The doctor called him, and told him there was a missionary coming home. He immediately wanted to see me. Me and my companion headed to the offices and he barely remembered speaking with me. It was just me who met the Seventy, he was a First Quorum Seventy also (the highest type of Seventy). My companion was so excited for me and I was dreading it so bad.

I had to split this in 2 parts because there is a text limiter.

[Caprice]

I went in and he had this, southern persona deal. He was from texas. By this time I had calmed down and I was able to talk with him. He was very pushy. He didn’t take what I was saying seriously at all, at all. He said that there is a doctor in monterrey I could stay with that is a psycologist and he would be able to help me. I soon become nervous that I was not going home. He got on the phone to this doctor and the doctor was just blown away that he was talking to a Seventy (it was on speaker phone) (again, this goes with how revered mortal men are in the Church, something I did now feel right with). He agreed to anything that the Seventy wanted him to do. He always had this smirk on his face that I didn’t trust. After he hung up the phone, his face became serious, and he asked me that ive got to make a decision now whether I want to go home or to the doctor. I immediately went into a panic attack, I couldn’t control it. I started shaking very bad and I tried containing myself from dropping to the floor from my chair. The Seventy sat there, he wasn’t shocked, but he seemed to realize I had a greater problem than what he took me for. He told me, he said, if you stay in the mission or go home, I believe you need to see this doctor, because he can give you tools to help you in the rest of your life. I agreed. He next gave me a blessing which was very, it sounded very prideful, and he re-iterated himself being a Seventy during the blessing. Within 3 hours I was on a plane headed for monterrey. The missionaries at the mission home were very distant from me and very, rude for short.
When I got there I met the doctor and he was in his 70’s, an older man, but very thin and lean. He was nice. He took me to his apartment where him and his wife lived and I rested for the night.

The next day, Thursday, in the morning we went to his offices and he started asking me questions and getting to know my problem. His whole attitude turned very, smart-alic to me. His sessions didn’t work. I tried, but he approached me as if, I was weak, and I could not decide what to do with my life, almost as if, I didn’t know what was good for me. My trust in him soon failed because of his attitude toward me. I went tracking (in the mission this means to go as missionaries amongst the people and preach to them, help them, talk with them, whatever it takes to find people to teach and baptize) with the missionaries for the rest of the day and it was nice, but it was still the life of the mission and yes, still the same old thing. Baptize as much as you can.

Friday I told him during our session that I just wanted to go home. Im tired of all these questions and I thanked him for all he had done for me. I have an aunt that lives in monterrey and I never met her. She called him after he started the process to get my plane ticket (it was so, coincidental, apparently my dad had told her i was there, and she had spent the whole time trying to find me to come visit me). He said the earliest I could leave was Monday morning. After he had started the process of getting my plane ticket, things seemed to calm down. I went into his waiting lounge and sat on the couch and just, rested from everything that was going on. My aunt came and visited me at his office with my cousins who I never met also. She immediately started telling me (as soon as she walked through the door) all of the things that had gone through my head earlier (that goes through the head of every mormon missionary that was about to go home). How good of a person I will be when I serve and complete the mission. How happy my life will be when I complete the mission. And how happy the family will be that I served the mission.

I felt. For the first time ever in my life, that I wanted to kill myself. The feeling scared me very bad. Because I never had that feeling before, I didn’t believe in suicide being the way out of anything. But for the first time in my life, I felt that. I told them that was how I felt when she demanded I respond to her. They all freaked out but she kept telling me about all I had to gain from the mission.

I broke down and had another panic attack. The doctor’s wife came out and took me outside to calm down. She said she didn’t know it was that bad. I felt sorry for her. Because I could see how much she didn’t like her husband, but stuck with him anyway after going through the ceremony in the temple (if any of you have seen a Mormon Temple, and wondered what goes on inside, Wikipedia can tell you. And if you still want to know, I can tell you my whole experience with that before I left for my mission). He literally treated her almost as an, object, a workhorse. But the thing was, she let him, like, that is the way life is. I noticed this out in Utah when I was going to Brigham Young University. That night we went to the temple, and then went to their place and rested.

In the morning on Saturday, me and the doctor went grocery shopping. And then when we came back, he had to call my dad to get approval for me to fly home. The doctor went into another room without me and talked to him without my permission. I knew everything he was telling my dad. Because it was everything he tried telling me. That there wasn’t anything wrong with me. That I just didn't want to tough it and I wanted to go home.

After I had that feeling that I wanted to kill myself, I knew, no matter what, I had to get out of mexico. For my own safety.

After he talked to my dad, he came out and gave me the phone, I took it to my room and sat on the bed to talk with him. And before I could say anything, my dad wailed on me everything. He told me everything he despised about me. All the reasons he thought why I was coming home. It made me feel very trapped, like there was no way out, and that feeling of suicide came again, that it could be an option. I told my dad after I started crying that I felt like I wanted to kill myself. The next thing my father told me, I will never forget:

“I believe the Lord would rather have you dead, than for you to quit on him”

When my dad said that, it was as if a bomb went off. I stopped crying, the feeling of suicide went away, and I went into a state that I never had been before, almost like I was a zombie from being so shocked. All I kept saying to my dad while he continued to tear into me was yes sir, yes sir. I gave the phone back to the doctor. And they talked for one more minute, and then he gave the phone back to me, I went to my room. My dad said that he was denying my plane ticket, and I had to stay and tough it out. He also said that everything he told me, was from the spirit. I hung up the phone when he was done and took it to the doctor. He acted as if he had won. He was very sarcastic to me asking, “so, what’d he say? Huh?” I told him he said I had to stay here, I was still in my zombie state. The doctor said, well, how about you go take a nap and we can go to the temple this evening. I said that would be wonderful. He asked me if I would like to listen to his meditation tapes while I rested. I said that would be great. I took his boom box to my room and turned it on the tape.
The doctor came in with the phone telling me that my mother was on the line. She told me that she was threatening to divorce my dad over the whole incident (i have grown up in a dysfunctional household. My mother and father are both 2 different races, 2 different religions, they even sleep in seperate rooms). I told her that I was coming home. I told her that I would be alright, but that I was coming home. She seemed confident and we hung up. I took the phone back to the doctor and then told him I'm going to take my nap now.

(it's going to take a 3rd part)

[Caprice]

The rest:

I turned it up the boom box but not so loud to be suspicious. I turned on the air conditioner. I locked the door. I started packing. I changed into normal clothes. I was packed in 30 minutes. The room was on the 2nd floor, but there was a window. I got the screen off and opened the window. My landing was all concrete. My only fear was that if I dropped my bags they would bust open. I got my heaviest bag up on the window sill, and I said to myself, once I drop this, its go time. Its like pressing play, and there is no going back. I dropped it and the bag did not bust. I dropped my other bags and climbed down the window thanks to bars on the window below mine. I grabbed my bags and ran for a taxi. He took me to the bus terminal and I got a bus ticket to Lexington, Kentucky for $170. I waited an hour for my bus and boarded it. I never felt more free.
The whole bus trip, I was thinking of who I could call, and who I could stay with until I found a job. Because my dad said If I came home, im cut off from everything. I left on a Saturday afternoon at 4pm and made it to Kentucky at 8:30am on Monday. My last stop was Cincinnati before Lexington. Before I left, I thought I would call my mom. Because my mom threatened to divorce my dad over forcing me to stay in mexico. Because she is not a member of the church. I called my house to tell her what time I would be getting to Lexington. My dad answered and his whole tone had changed with me. I told him what time I would arrive and he said they would pick me up. I was shocked, but I said ok. I greeted them and they took me to eat. And then home.

Since then. Its still been a ride. But I have never felt more in control of my life. And with that. I have never felt more free. The thought of mortal men having control over me, and what I did scared me. It scared me so much that I ran. Because it was something I never wanted. All along the way, the Seventy himself, none of them did it how I saw that Jesus would. There was almost, a Universal absence of Love. I am home, I am living, and I am so happy that I. The way my mother puts it, I woke up.


There, there it all is. Since then I have read into the history of the church from material not endorsed by the church. Because the church discourages its members from reading un-approved material about the church. So the members, people that I used to be, we never know the true history of what we are believing.

There is much more I can tell on what I have gone through since I've been home, but there is what happened. And that is truly, what happened. I did not make that up. I did not want to let this out because I did not want to harm the church. But after reading and studying, I know that sometimes even staying silent is lying.


there dirties, that is me, that is josh

[BeautifulBurnout]

What an amazing story. And what an enormous amount of courage it must have taken for you to write it.

[Rog]

wow! interesting read........i could say something disparaging about the church but it would be pointless........Hope you're ok now........

[Professor]

Thank you for sharing this. I have some life-lessons as well from very strict religious points of view. You might enjoy reading "Under the Banner of Heaven" by Jon Krakauer. It's a more about the fundamentalist Mormons than the regular church, but it's an eye opener for sure...not that you need that. That's a very very very fucking brave thing that you did. Braver than most people will ever be in their lifetimes.

[bryantm3]

i completely believe you. in the universal sense, there is a tendency in religion to stop serving God and begin to serve their own feelings of self-worth. people feel better about themselves the more they convert non-believers to their own religion, but their purpose is to make themselves feel better and claim themselves to be more worthy of God's love. it's not just mormonism, it's consistant throughout religions of the world. it's truly ridiculous that this continues to happen and experiences like this continue to turn people away from religion, when the purpose of religion is a different thing entirely; i believe it's to spread love throughout the world, whether people believe in your God or not, God still loves them.

it took a lot of gumption to write that out on here and i commend you for it. i wish you nothing but good luck in spreading the word about this. i believe that God was on your side through all your perils and that's why you didn't take the step to kill yourself. he was protecting you, and he will continue to do so.

i would write more but i'm a bit drunk and i'm also very hungry.

[Deckard]

Caprice, as others have said - what you did must have taken some serious courage. Just glad to read you got out, because no-one should have to put up with the stifling conditions and emotional manipulation (for that's what it is) from people prone to the same flaws and mistakes as any other mortal human being. I'm pleased you are free and in a better position to take charge of your life. The old cliche is true: what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger.

[Strangelet]

wow. all this time I thought I was the resident utah ex-mormon. pm me if you'd like to discuss with someone who *knows*

btw, I broke from the church about the same time, only I managed to do so before I got carted off to the dehumanizing experience of the mtc and the quota obsessed mission field.

How it played out for me is that I got my wisdom teeth pulled, my physical, my interviews, my hair cut and my mr. mac suit and then all of a sudden a break down not unlike yours took place in my life.

Later the bishop tried to get me to go back on the task and finish up my papers. I asked him what is the purpose of a mission, because I'll still consider it if its mainly about talking about beliefs and values with people and finding ways of improving people's lives. He said no. the purpose of a mission is to teach the gospel. period.

That was the last time I spoke to a church representative on a formal basis.

believe me, the hard part is over. And you are already proven very brave and heroic for walking away from something that is once embraced as the corner stone of one's entire existence. next is remembering what happened is not your fault and finding peace with those who will do their best to convince you otherwise.

[Caprice]

oh wow, strangelet, will do

its been a while since i have checked the forums, sorry you all, a lot has happened.

since i wrote out what happened, this has happened:

i moved out of my house

i told my dad i do not believe in the church anymore (he took it real good at first, then the following sunday he let it all out, again. only this time i knew it wasn't him who was fighting, it was not him. i just stared blankly, letting him get it all out, knowing that its only anger, he's still my dad. even though with what he said, it's been 2 weeks now, our relationship has gone to almost nothing. (my manager at where i work is gay, i work at a coffee shop, and we both have been talking about the many parallels that we have because both our dads disagree with what we're doing. funny, but im still awfully attracted to women.) i go over to the house at least every other day to check on my mom, who seems to be doing great. she isn't mormon, but she has her own problems that she is getting out of, i think because she can rest assured that her baby boy no longer believes in joseph smith. dad, on the other hand, avoids me with all possibility. i try to do things for him, and still be his son, but its like, he doesn't want me. i dont let it get to me i think, because im supporting myself and im applying to scholarships/financial aid and worst comes to worst, i'll apply for a loan to continue university this fall. im going to send in my resignation letter to the church soon)

ive had corona, sam adams boston lager, amber bock, budweiser, heineken, coors light (all in that order)

im saving up for a motorcycle or some other form of cheap transportation, im riding the bicycle in the mean time


ive noticed that the more that i make myself a priority, the more happier ive become. its really strange. the church would call this selfishness, but hey, im pretty happy.