Having been depressed again recently, I thought I would get some more down on the Blog. I stopped having counselling a few months a go, but I found that getting it off my chest did help It's taken me a while to want to do this so here goes.
Church On Sunday
My Father always insisted that we attend Church on Sunday, unless we
were away such as the holidays already mentioned. If I was at camp we
had a service anyway and if it was Remembrance Sunday or St Georges
day, I would attend Church with my Scout troop.
Our local Church was a fairly modern C of E building.. My Father
despite his ideas was in no way a Catholic, despite his beliefs about 'sin', but every Sunday, come
rain or shine, my Brother and I would put on a tie, sometimes our
school uniform, but always in a shirt and trousers and walk to
Church. The only time I ever remember being driven was when my mother
was alive.
Our Vicar throughout my childhood years was a man called Mr Vincent.
He was probably in his late forties as I remember him, dark, greying
hair with quite a long-ish bushy beard which could vary in length.
Sometimes it was quite long and halfway down his chest. He wasn't fat
but more expanded in the waist and when he wasn't wearing his dog
collar, he would wear a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows.
The other thing I recall about him was he had terrible dandruff and
when he wore his black shirt it would be covered in flakes from his
scalp and from his beard. He was never married that I knew of but
lived on his own in a large old Vicarage behind overgrown shrubs and
trees.
We would usually sit as a family when I was younger, presumably so my
Father could keep an eye on us, but later on after my Brother had
left home, I would usually be allowed to sit wherever I wanted, with
Nathan as his parents went to the same Church, and we would try for
the back pews, or at least as far back as decency permitted.
Unless my Father was angry with me or building up to one of his
explosions, Nathan and I would meet inside the Church and take a pew
together.
I remember nothing of Mr Vincent's sermons, I probably wasn't
listening as Nathan and I would whisper to each other and muck about
as quietly as possible, always standing when a hymn was called,
although perhaps not singing and trying to avoid the gaze of the
Vicar as he stood elevated by his pulpit.
Again if my Father was in a good mood, Nathan and I would walk back
together, sometimes to his house, sometimes to mine through the park.
If his parents were going somewhere without him, there would be
opportunity for us to masturbate together in his room.
Masturbation was my main 'sin' in my teens.
None of this would be possible if my Father was in a bad mood. I
would have to sit next to him and make it look like I was paying
attention. Of course he knew Mr Vincent quite well. It was he who had
performed my Mother's funeral and must have watched us two boys
growing up in front of him every Sunday. However until I was 14, my
Father had never approached Mr Vincent about my upbringing before.
I think the reason was that my Father's temper and his view that I
was becoming uncontrollable were snowballing into something bigger
than it actually was. I was usually in fear of my Father and would
try to be on my best behaviour most of the time, but this was no good
if he was approaching one of his explosions. Whatever I did, he would
find fault, eventually culminating in me getting a good hiding!
One Sunday he stayed behind to talk with Mr Vincent and I went off
with Nathan as usual. There was nothing unusual about that as he
often exchanged pleasantries with him and discussed the wrongs of the
world and the youth of that day.
A couple of days afterwards when I arrived home from school, Mr
Vincent was in the living room talking with my Father. I greeted him
as my manners had taught me to do and I was asked to go to my room
whilst they talked some more. I knew then that they were talking
about me.
This set me into a panic as I knew my Father was up to something.
After some time there was a knock at my bedroom door and Mr Vincent
came in.
He asked me to sit down and as there was only my desk chair, he had
to sit on my bed which I recall I wasn't very happy about. It made me feel uncomfortable.
My Father had indeed told him all about how 'sinful' I was and when Mr Vincent mentioned the 'M' word I wanted to curl up and die with embarrassment. He also mentioned about evil forces at work and I wonder now if my Father had referred to the strange goings on in the house at the time.
Boys Brigade was suggested by Mr Vincent
He suggested two things. Firstly that I join the Boys Brigade which was
run by himself and a couple of other people in association with the
Church. In fact, they were always present at Remembrance Sunday
marches and such and I knew a couple of boys within the BB who went
to my school.
Secondly, that I come over to his house on Saturday mornings for some
personal tuition and Bible study with him. He would set me some
reading and perhaps an essay each week and then we would discuss
various aspects of the passages included.
At this, my heart just sank as I thought my Father had done this to
prevent me from going to Football practice on Saturday mornings. I
felt he was just trying to get back at me and stop me from having a
life. On top of all that, I had a lot of homework to do most evenings
and I couldn't see how on earth I was going to have time to write
essays on the Bible as well.
After he had gone I stayed in my room sulking until my Father came in
and said that he had agreed with Mr Vincent's ideas all except the
Boys Brigade and the only reason for that was that he would have to
fork out for a whole new uniform and there was no way he was going to
do that!
It was just as well as I was happy in the Scouts and all my mates
were there and I didn't want to leave. In fact I had always thought
that I would stay on into the Venture Scouts and beyond and maybe
even become a leader myself.
I sulked in my room.......
When the next Sunday came round, Mr Vincent asked to to come into the
vestry with him and gave me some reading to do and some questions to
answer. The following Saturday, I was to go to the Vicarage at 9:30
with my work and we would see how it went from there.
I hated reading the Bible and the passages I was given were
uninteresting and dull. However I duly did the work set and turned up
on time. It was a huge old house that smelt very musty and was very
untidy. Maybe he didn't have a housekeeper? I never knew.
In actual fact, he came over as kindly and understanding. I think my
Father must have painted a picture of me being unruly, wilful and
disobedient, which I wasn't and when Mr Vincent realise this, he was
well disposed towards me. He embarrassed me by talking about onanism
and how I felt about it. I think he understood all boys did it, but
of course, I was doing it with Nathan as well which was a definite
no, no!
What actually happened was that after a few months, the Saturday
sessions got further apart as he realised he couldn't do anything for
me until they eventually stopped altogether. Nothing was ever said
about not coming. He had better things to do with his time and so did
I.
I only ever went to one Boys Brigade meeting, in my School uniform,
before that idea was dropped on it's head as well. I stayed with the
Scouts until I was nearly 17.
