My Story/ Toxic Relationship to Faith and Healing

There was a time when I felt lost, trapped in a cycle of pain and self-destruction. But through the darkness, I found glimmers of hope and the strength to change. This is the story of my journey from chaos to clarity, from despair to hope. It is a story of healing, self-discovery, and the realization that the power to transform my life was within me all along.

Join me as I walk the Yellow Brick Road to healing, guided by the lessons of the past and the promise of a brighter future

Finding Hope in “The Wizard of Oz”

Throughout my journey, television has been a source of comfort and escape, especially during the roughest times. I often imagine myself as Dorothy, navigating my own Yellow Brick Road. The characters in “The Wizard of Oz” have become symbols of hope and resilience for me, each teaching valuable lessons that mirror my own struggles and triumphs.

The Scarecrow: Believing he lacks a brain; the Scarecrow shows intelligence and problem-solving skills throughout the journey. His story teaches me that we often underestimate our own abilities. Despite my doubts, I have shown resourcefulness and strength in overcoming life’s challenges.

The Tin Man: Thinking he lacks a heart; the Tin Man shows great compassion and kindness. He reminds me that empathy and love often go unseen but are intensely experienced. Even in my darkest moments, I have found ways to care for others and show kindness, proving that my heart is strong.

The Cowardly Lion: Feeling he lacks courage; the Cowardly Lion consistently acts bravely to protect his friends. His journey shows that true courage is acting in the face of fear. Despite my fears and insecurities, I have faced my challenges head-on, demonstration  bravery in ways I never thought possible.

Glinda the Good Witch: Guiding Dorothy and helping her realize she had the power to return home all along, Glinda stands for wisdom and the idea that sometimes we need guidance to see our own strengths. Through therapy and support groups, I have found my own Glindas, who have helped me recognize my inner strength and potential.

The Wicked Witch of the West: Standing for the obstacles and challenges we face in life, overcoming her shows the importance of perseverance and bravery. My struggles with addiction, toxic relationships, and self-doubt have been my Wicked Witch, and overcoming them has needed immense perseverance and courage.

The Wizard, a figure of great power, is shown to be just an ordinary man. This twist teaches us about the importance of self-belief and the realization that we often have the power within ourselves to achieve our goals. My journey has taught me that I do not need to rely on external validation; the power to change my life lies within me.

The Yellow Brick Road: Symbolizing the journey of life, with its twists and turns, challenges, and moments of discovery, the Yellow Brick Road reminds me that my path, though difficult, is leading me towards growth and self-discovery. Each step I take brings me closer to the person I want to be.

It is 2024, two and a half years since my colon cancer diagnosis. The doctor said the surgery went well. There is no more cancer, and I wont need chemo. All my follow-up appointments have ruled out any further medical complications. However, I still have Multiple Sclerosis, Stage 2 kidney disease, and depression. But my cancer is gone! I just need to come back in two years for another colonoscopy.

I thank him for the good news, smiling, but I think to myself, “If the surgery was successful, then why am I still having pain in my abdomen? Is it nerves? Oh my God, will I ever be healthy and pain-free?”

I was born in 1961 in Bemidji, MN. We did not live there long because my dad got a teaching job in Wyoming. I grew up in a small town there, with a population of just 100. The only noise was the wind blowing mercilessly through the town, which happened every afternoon in Yoder. Everyone knew everyone’s story because of the party line.
The neighborhood listened in on the phone while we talked to boys. I was so unaware. It was 1969, and I had no clue what was happening in the world, let alone in my own life. Years later, I was told that it was just the first stage of failure.

I always felt different and struggled with self-worth. Kids teased me about my haircut, my bad skin, and said my voice was too loud. When I laughed, my laughter echoed throughout the school. It hurt my feelings at the time. I felt guilty for being a human being. There were many things I didn't like about myself. I was in kindergarten, and it was soon to be 1969.

I rarely look back to remember that kid. I remember being happy in kindergarten when I graduated. I wore a dress and was smiling and laughing. My only graduation picture captures a delightful day, a memory frozen in time. Just another lie. I got good at lying, especially to myself about my own life.

I have always felt guilt and worried about my feelings, especially about myself. Laughing was my only way to cope because if I looked closely at how I really felt, I would cry. Tears were often seen as signs of vulnerability, emotional manipulation, and an aversion to intimacy. Dad used to say, “I can give you something to really cry about!”

Growing up in Yoder, Wyoming, was an experience in itself. The town was so small that everyone knew each other, and the sense of community was strong. We had one general store, a post office, and a tiny schoolhouse that served all grades. Winters were harsh, with snow piling up high and the wind howling through the cracks in our old house. Summers, on the other hand, were a time of freedom. We would run through the fields, climb trees, and swim in the nearby creek.

My dad was a teacher, and he was well-respected in the community. He had a stern demeanor but a kind heart. My mom was the glue that held our family together. She was always busy, whether it was baking bread, tending to the garden, or sewing clothes for us. Despite the challenges, there was a simplicity and beauty to our life in Yoder.

One of my fondest memories is of the annual town fair. It was the highlight of the year, with everyone coming together to celebrate. There were games, homemade pies, and a sense of joy that filled the air. I remember winning a blue ribbon for my apple pie one year. It was a moment of pride that I cherished.

In school, I pretended everything was okay. I laughed loudly to drown out the pain from the outside noise. I could hear the silence of the wind, and my body felt like it was falling apart. The wind could not stop the sound of my heart breaking. Then there was the quiet noise my parents made when they fought. My mother was a saint. She never knew. We saw the bruises. We smelled the alcohol mixed with cigarettes and peppermint. Is this how everyone’s family is?

Dad, do you hear the loud sounds of their hearts breaking? How was the last hunting trip with your sons? How come they won’t go with you anymore? Why did they leave home and go so far away? Did you want them gone so you could hit mom without interference? Will they ever come back home?

Then there was the quiet noise from people in Yoder’s small community. The adults who talked behind our backs because we were poor and my mom had eight kids. I didn’t have to hear it from them. I could feel it every time I stood in line for lunch. The lunch ticket was pink while everyone else’s was blue. You could see that we were unable to pay for school lunch. Lunch was $1.00, $8 a day by 20 school days was $160. This was 1969.

The quiet noise came from the boy who said he loved me. He said if you love someone, you should take your clothes off and let them lay on top of you. At first, I thought okay. Then I realized what that meant and ran away. We had been together for two years. He quit speaking to me after that. It was 1975.

I wore new old clothes twice a year: Christmas and when school began. Most were from Torrington and yard sales or the Denver Goodwill. The rich people on the hill had huge yard sales. They had the best sales on last year’s clothes, toys, and tennis shoes. It was okay because they probably only wore them once. They even recognized us and called us the Parsons bunch.

In school, when a classmate would say, “That looks like a shirt I used to wear last summer,” I felt embarrassed and ashamed inside. I laughed and lied, saying, “No, it’s not. This shirt is brand new, so it’s not yours.” I felt guilty about lying. It’s one of the Ten Commandments.

In high school, I played sports, you were more popular with the rich crowd. You would be invited to the weekly bonfire keg parties. You would lose your old friends for the rich, popular crowd. It was 1976.

The preacher said we need to go to church so when you die, you go to Heaven. He said, “Buy this car.” My sister and I used the car for our secret party-going and church. I met Jay my future husband at one of these parties. 

I married Jay, but I quickly realized I wasn’t suited for the role of a traditional wife. I was surprised to find myself responsible for all the other housework, which I disliked intensely. Despite working full-time as a hair stylist and cleaning planes at the airport during the night, Jay never helped around the house or held down a job. His frequent absences from work were due to his drinking, and he often called off because he was drunk or hungover.

In my frustration, I tried to push him away by having affairs, but he didn’t seem to care. Our home life was chaotic, filled with drinking, blackouts, and terrible fights that sometimes turned physical. I prayed for a way out, questioning if I was broken and if there was anyone who could love me more than alcohol.

Jay’s behavior reminded me of my father, who my mother would search for in bars after he got paid. I found myself repeating this pattern, walking the streets of Sheridan in all weather to find Jay. He would spend his paycheck at the bar and not come home, leaving me to pay our $300 rent in installments.

I began to hate myself and wondered what was wrong with me. I prayed for a better life and started reading self-help books like “Codependent No More” and “Affirmations for Children of Alcoholics” by Rochelle Lerner. These books helped me realize that I was a good person and deserved better.

As I gained confidence, I stopped searching for Jay and stayed up late watching TV, worried he might hurt someone while driving drunk. I learned about AA and Al-Anon and joined a women’s religious group, even though I wasn’t an alcoholic. I tried to convince Jay to quit drinking, but he had no intention of stopping.

When Jay lost his fourth job and lied about my father’s death to his boss, I knew it was time to leave.

The Decision to Leave Jay**

The night Jay lost his fourth job was the final straw. He had lied to his boss, claiming my father had died, as an excuse for missing work. The truth was, he was hungover and couldn't bring himself to face another day. This lie cut deep, especially since my father had passed away only two months earlier. The disrespect and insensitivity were too much to bear. I realized then that I couldn't continue living this way. I deserved better. I needed to break free from this toxic cycle. As I prayed, a sense of calm washed over me. It was as if a small light had been ignited within my soul, offering a glimmer of hope. I thought of the Scarecrow from "The Wizard of Oz," who believed he lacked a brain but demonstrated intelligence and problem-solving skills throughout his journey. In many ways, I felt like the Scarecrow—underestimating my own abilities and feeling lost. I realized that I had the intelligence and strength within me all along. I vowed to seek help, to find the support I needed, and to never give up on myself again.

I sat alone in our cluttered living room, the weight of Jay’s actions pressing down on me. The room was dimly lit, the flickering light from the TV casting eerie shadows on the walls. The smell of stale alcohol and unwashed clothes filled the air, a constant reminder of the life I was living. I felt a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep sense of betrayal.

As I sat there, memories of my father flooded my mind. He had his flaws, but he was still my dad, and his death had left a void in my heart. Jay’s lie felt like a betrayal not just to me, but to my father’s memory. I realized then that I could not continue living this way. I deserved better. I needed to break free from this toxic cycle.

My dad died at the age of 48. He had his challenges, and alcohol was also a problem for him. Dad had gotten the courage to quit drinking. He unexpectedly had a heart attack and died. I missed him and thought about those memories watching the Wizard of Oz as a family

I remembered words from my dad. Why are you with him? He doesn’t take care of you. That’s not love it is abuse. Use your brain Cheryl and think for yourself. You used to be a smart kid. Remember that you will always have to take care of yourself. No one else will treat you the way you can treat yourself. You must take care of yourself properly. Life’s journey begins with you being able to be happy with yourself.

It felt like when Dorothy meets Glinda the good witch. When Glinda tells

Dorothy your journey has just begun.

It was not an easy time. I didn’t even cry when I left Jay. I was angry. I didn’t even have anything in common with Jay. He didn’t care about me.  I still 

wanted Jay to be my soulmate. I was so in love with him that being away from him was terrifying. I couldn’t sleep or eat. My body felt weirdly achy. 

I was running on this emotional adrenaline. My heart was beat so fast. I was just waiting for the right time to escape.  I talked to Jay about divorce. He would cry. I felt guilty. I felt like I was a terrible person. I still didn’t cry.

I was so in love with the idea of marriage. Usually  he would convince me to stay. I knew I needed help. 

One night when we were out partying. I met Todd. He was a man who had just left the military. He and Jay were related by marriage. Jays' dad was married to Todds mom. Todd noticed me and he knew Jay and I were having a tough time with our relationship. He had been around when we fought. He could see my heart was breaking. He also would secretly tell me that he really liked me.

He had told me if I needed help, he would come to me, and we could talk about the situation. He said he was going places. We talked and became friends. He was the opposite of Jay. He seemed strong, disciplined, and intelligent. He was tall handsome and quite athletic. He didn’t drink alcohol. He had money a nice car and goals

for his future. 

When he called and said he is leaving Sheridan and offered to take me with him I said yes. I left with a few clothes. I did not care about anything else I owned.  I left Jay, my car, furniture, the dishes and everything else I had worked hard for.

I was extremely disappointed with my marriage to Jay. It broke my heart. Even though I felt guilty We divorced.

Even though Todd said he liked me. I did not know If I liked him. He had a bad temper towards the government. He would make weird comments about how the government is trying to control people. He started welding school with his GED.

He took care of the finances. I worked at a hair salon. I could work in just about any state in the USA. I had built a business doing hair in Sheridan, Wyoming. I knew I could be successful at that again.

I love doing hair. In cosmetology school your taught to leave your problems at home. I had to be strong. I made great money and had plenty of money to pay my bills. My clients always gave me compliments. 

It was not long, and I married him. We moved out of Wyoming as soon as we saved enough money.