Weakened by Submission

I've already mentioned how being in a continuous state of submission actually causes neural degeneration. As I look back to the period immediately after leaving TFI, I can see what a weakened state I was in mentally and emotionally.

Finding out that the cause I gave my life to was nonsense was a jolt, but the true horror of it all took a few years to realize. At first, I was just paralyzed by the guilt of how my life-choice had affected my children and desperately wanted to do what I could to improve their future prospects. The first step, I felt, was to get them to the US (the country of our citizenship) where they could attend college more easily.

My paper-thin optimism, my willingness to take risks, and my wishful-thinking (in the jargon of the cult, "full-of-faith") attitude was mainly still intact, and I expected doors to open and things to work out for us - as I had felt things had so far in my life. Not so. My time spent in the US that year was the lowest of my life. I learned what it was like to be poor in the US, and it wasn't pretty. I was not prepared for the social stigma nor hardship.

I had no idea how weak I had really gotten and how easy I had become to take advantage of. My "trust everyone" philosophy was sorely tested. My brain was muddled, my self-confidence became virtually nonexistent, and I was a mess. True to the Dunning-Kruger effect, I had no idea how little I knew.

The advice I would give now to my former, just-out-of-the-cult, self would be to not make any moves, not make any big decisions until spending a at least a year or more studying, learning, and planning. 

Entitlement

As one of "God's chosen elite few," we COG/TFI members shared in the collective delusion that we were somehow more special than the rest of the world. Of course, our sins were constantly held before us to keep us in submission and "humble," but overall, we knew, and were to be ever-thankful, that we were chosen to be saved and to enter into the highest levels of heaven for being those special Christians who would live through "the End-time." ("End-time" meaning the seven years preceding the prophesied second coming of Jesus Christ.)

Part of being "chosen," as I wrote before, was that we were to dedicate all our time to our "work for the Lord" and not work for "mammon" (material things). "You cannot serve God and Mammon." (Luke 16:13) So basically, no one held a job. 

The most common method of livelihood in TFI was what was euphemistically called "provisioning" but which in reality was simply begging. We would beg directly from people on the streets, approach businesses for cash or material donations, and go to stores to ask the managers for donations of food. There were certain members whose daily job it was to call businesses and ask for donations. Of course, this was ambiguously phrased as "donating to help our work for the Lord," or whatever we felt would be effective in the situation, but really, those funds and goods would go to supply our own communal household. 

We didn't look on this behavior as "begging," but rather that it allowed people to partake of God's blessings by helping "His children."

In reality, we subsisted thanks to the kindness and generosity of others who really didn't know all that much about TFI. 

It is inevitable, in my opinion, for this deluded perspective of being "chosen" to affect those who partake of it, furnishing them with a sense of entitlement where they expect other people to give them things and to be somewhat affronted when they are turned down.

What a shock it must be to people when they leave the group and realize that they have spent their years as (very possibly) an annoying beggar. Worse so for the young people who were born into the group and made to beg on the streets from a young age. As well, down comes the shocking realization that no one owes us a thing.

Cults and Abusive Relations are Alike

The similarity of mental process that I demonstrated both in my cult subservience and in my abusive marriage lead me to believe that the psychology is one and the same. 

One important characteristic of cults, in order for them to continue and thrive, is isolationism—if not physical isolation (like Jonestown), then social isolation (like TFI, where we were taught that "you are in the world, but not of the world," and to "keep yourself unspotted from the world," as the Bible admonishes). Separation from outsiders, a "them and us" mentality, is a crucial part of the doctrine.  

This same condition applied to my nuclear family life. After leaving communal life, we remained in a country that, shall I say, is not particularly open to foreigners, nor is the language easy to pick up. We were looked on as "outsiders" by the community around us, which seemed to suit our mentality just fine, having been immersed in the isolation of cult life for all of my husband's and my adult lives. Isolation and "being separate" were second nature to us.

In this atmosphere of isolation, my loyalty to my family was strong, as had been my cult loyalty which fortunately, by this time, was beginning to wane. (This period coincided with the publication of remarkably bizarre new doctrines which the "Prophetess" had "received from the Lord," as I wrote about previously. See Finally.)

Both cults and abusive relationships rely on belief in delusions. 

The TFI has so many delusions that it has filled volumes, highlighted by the collective wish-fulfillment of being God's children with the promise of heaven. As for my marriage, my delusion was also a form of wish-fulfillment—believing that my husband was the good, loving husband and father as described by my internal narrative. As is the nature of beliefs, I wanted to believe them, and in so doing unwittingly suppressed the reality testing function of my brain.

Moreover, both cult-life and my married-life played on my human need for acceptance and belonging. I have a desire to be useful and needed, along with the rest of the human race, particularly mothers. Both situations—cult and marriage—played to that need as well.

Turning a Blind Eye

The coping technique I applied to my marriage was much the same as what I used with family problems, cult membership, and sometimes even my health: ignore the bad and it will go away. "Give no place to the devil," as Ephesians 4:27 admonishes, which I seemed to interpret as "brush any problems under the rug and move on to other things."

When my husband beat my son in anger or treated the other children harshly, I rationalized that he couldn't have meant to do that harm. Surely he was sorry. ("I wouldn't act like that, and if I had, I would certainly be sorry," assuming that he would think like I would.) If he was sorry, no one ever heard about it.

Although I did try, I could never talk to him about such things, as he would react with anger or simply leave the room. Years later he told me that because I seemed to "protect" my children and "side with them against him," he felt obligated to retaliate by treating them more harshly. 

Coincidentally (or not), this echoed the same sentiment pounded into me repeatedly by leadership in TFI, namely, that I "favored" my children. I needed to give them to others to discipline and care for, and of course, I spent my days caring for other people's children. If one of my own children happened to be in the group of children I was responsible for, I needed to be careful to treat them the same as, or even more pleasing in the eyes of cult leadership, more harshly than, the others. The one hour of nightly "Family Time" was more than enough for fulfilling the mothering needs of my children, so it was said.

Had I been able to wake up out of my delusions and shake off some of my strongly clung-to mental biases, I would have seen early on that our situation was intolerable not only for me, but even more so, my children.

Dysfunction

After my husband moved away, I missed him, and I missed our rare times of intimacy. How pathetic this was did not occur to me at the time. To miss having being with a man for whom touching me was revolting, well, that's just sad.

So why did I feel like that? Did I think so little of myself that the best I could do in life was to be with someone who used me for social acceptance while finding any physical contact with me repugnant?

Looking back, perhaps it wasn't that deep. With my inbuilt status quo bias, I preferred my existing arrangement just because it was what I was used to. It was the only marriage I knew. I "owned" it. Crappy as it was, it was mine, and it provided me with a (albeit fanciful) sense of security.

As well, I projected on him what I expected him to be and become. I saw the rosy image that I imagined and wanted him to be, rather than the person he really was. (I am sure that my expectations only compounded the stress and pressure he felt in trying to fulfill the role he believed was his duty to play.)

This whole situation must have been confusing for our children, who didn't see things through quite the same lens as I did and were the main ones who felt the brunt of his frustrations.

Loss and Guilt

I'm sure it's common among ex-cult members (as our brains gradually un-fog after leaving the group) to experience a feeling of loss at the lost years. The years of life, learning, and joy that could have been, but that were instead given to a cause of nonsense where we were merely used and abused with nothing to show for it. No savings for retirement. No education. Nothing.

Add to that negative the collateral damage heaped upon my children and the other children in the group. It's almost too horrible to face.

How important the decisions made in youth are, and how they set the trend for one's later years! Now, my later years are filled with the knowledge that my misguided decision to join the COG has not only robbed me of years of joy I could have had, but has marred the lives of my children - something I cannot undo. 

Yes, things could always have been worse, but that is little comfort in easing the guilt of my own bad decisions and the effect they have had on those I love.

So, I have learned to live with guilt, and in a way to make it my ally by taking comfort in the fact that my guilt at least shows that I am a kind-hearted person who cares for my children. I am not choosing to live in denial. And I am not psychopathic.

I've become aware of the need to be careful of the narrative I build for myself of my own image - am I really what I think I am?  As well, I want to take care about the images I form of other people. Is that person what I think they are - what I want them to be - or is it only a facade that they are presenting, or perhaps my projected idea is what I am seeing?  

My life's tendency has been to take a first impression of someone (and for me, this would generally be positive), or just as poignantly, a group, and then create my image of what that entity is like from my initial impression. Too often I have found out too late that I was incorrect. The person, or group, in question was not at all as I had conceived.

Adjustment

Now that we had left TFI, what next? Here we were, in a foreign land, without contact with any family to return home to, my parents long deceased, 6 of our 8 children still living at home, virtually no savings (having given a hefty 20% of our income to the cult each month), no retirement investments, and the challenge of building a new future.

My mind was a fog. I found it hard to concentrate. I wanted to do what would be best for our family. I was overwhelmed with regret and guilt.

I had already gotten one daughter settled in college in the US, although that was not without trauma and difficulty. I desperately wanted to make the path to college easier for my next children.

I heard about a scholarship program for those who graduated with good grades from high schools in a certain southern US state. I corresponded with the principal of the school, who assured me my daughter would be able to attend when we moved over from Japan. I doubt he realized how important that was to me, and that the purpose of our move was so that she could attend that high school and be able to take part in the scholarship program.

Sadly, when we went to the school after arrival, she was turned down. This was the beginning of a horrible 10 month stay in the US, where I was unable to find work and despondently watched our savings dwindle. At the end of that period, I returned to the foreign country that had become my home. Reuniting with the children I had left behind was a wonderful relief. Facing my failure to make it in the US, although humiliating, clarified that as long as money was to be made, in this foreign land I would have to stay.

Then, things went from bad to worse, before eventually getting better. But that is a different story.

Thanks to the advice of my eldest son, I began listening to audio courses and books, which has now become an integral part of my life, restoring to me my former delight in learning. I sought answers to the many "whys" I had about my life and decisions, as well as how I could pull out of the guilt that had paralyzed me in so many ways. It's also helping to clear the mental fog I had lived in for years, reinvigorating my sluggish brain.

Hopefully I will continue to build new, strong synaptic connections, and forget the old, useless brain circuitry I reinforced for too many years.

There is so much to learn.