Saturday, October 6, 2012

Book of Mormon Musical: Hasa Diga

Remember how I said I didn't feel like writing any more about Book of Mormon Musical. That was then... Today, I feel like it.

A warning: I'm about to write about a song that WILL offend.  I like this song, but I don't think you will. It's blasphemous, offensive, profane, vulgar, and the list goes on. Don't listen to it, and if you decide to listen to it, don't get mad at me, because I warned you. (There are phrases and a word that even I won't use... and fuck is one of my very favorite words. I feel guilty even writing what the song title means, so in the words of Elder Price, "They are saying F--- You to Heavenly Father.")

First, since I just told you all not to listen to it, here is what the song is about:
The people have a lot of bad things in their life. They then list the struggles in their life: No food. People dying in the street. Female circumcision. AIDS. Warlords. etc. Really awful and horrific things that most people could never imagine...REAL shit.

Then they turn to the missionaries and ask them to list off the bad things in their life:
Crowded plane. Late bus. Lost luggage.

Eventually the missionaries figure out what the people are saying (F you to Heavenly Father). Elder Price tells them they shouldn't be saying that.

The reply is, "If you don't like what we say, try living here a couple days."

I really like that line, because that is how I have felt before.
I'm not saying you have to listen to me and you definitely don't have to agree with me... but don't you dare tell me how I am supposed to get through hell while you're sitting on your nice, fluffy, heavenly clouds.

There's also something about making fun of something that has had so much power over me, that reduces it's power. If I can laugh at it, it doesn't hurt or control me nearly as much...

I can always tell when BJ has had a bad day, because this is the song blasting through out the house. He plays it once or twice... and then he seems more relaxed... So... because I feel like shit this morning, I decided to try it.

(Have I told you all how crazy General Conference weekend makes me. It makes me NUTS. I feel guilty and angry and twisted in knots... I want to scream and cry and throw things...)

It works. Relieves some of the tension. Gives me a place to put all of the anger I feel. Makes me laugh. Which reminds me of a story...

A few years ago, I was in a rough place. Flashbacks, seizures, and trying to make sense of a world that didn't make sense at all. One day, I was curled up in a ball on the floor, in too much pain to even cry, and I was apologizing for being such a pain (or something)... BJ held me and just said, "Stop apologizing... You haven' done ANYTHING to apologize for... and especially... with all the fucking shit you have been through..."

Back then, I didn't use the fuck word. I thought it was bad! BAD! BAD! But something clicked in my brain, and I interrupted him, "It's not 'fucking shit'. Let's be accurate, it's actually 'shitty fucking'."

I thought it was really funny. But more than funny, it was honest. I owned what happened to me. And I used words that were off limits, but said what I needed to say... and I laughed, which released some of the tension in my body And it really did make it "all seem better".

Some anger and pain is too intense to feel, and it's too intense to distract from, and there just aren't "nice" words that can accomplish what a well placed FUCKword can. I don't advocate using profanity all the time, but I do believe there are times and there are places where it is entirely appropriate.

Like in this song. It was very healing for me. It shocked me enough to let me laugh at the anger and the pain... I don't know if that's what the writers had in mind, but that is what it did for me.

(Warning repeat: I do NOT recommend this song to anyone else. It is blasphemous and offensive and uses language that might make your ears bleed. I'm just telling you that I loved it, but I don't think anyone else will.)

Since I'm writing about it, I might as well tell you about seeing it live. I enjoyed it. It wasn't helpful - it wasn't harmful. It was just fun for me.

The reprise, however, was a different story. The reprise wasn't on the CD, so I'd never heard it. The full song is shocking and exaggerated. The reprise was less shocking, and instead of exaggerating emotions, it captured exactly how I have felt... The  betrayal, the loneliness, the heartache, the dashed hopes and the pain of "now what?" all were captured in that thirty second song... And I couldn't laugh at the emotions I felt.
I was such a fool to have followed this advice…
There is no trip to Paradise…
How could I let my hopes get so high…
Hasa Diga Eebowai…
You gave me a dream… but it was all a lie…
I think you like to see me cry…
Hasa diga…
I sobbed. It wasn't like "tears running down my face, but I still look pretty" No. Ugly tears. Snot. Holding it in so no one else could hear, but it felt like my throat was being ripped out... I wasn't expecting that. AT ALL. I enjoyed talking to the other audience members around me before the show and during intermission... but after the show, I just wanted to get out of there. I sat in the van and cried. Once I finished crying, I felt better... And I'm back to loving the show.

Before I left the church, I went through a lot of intense emotions and a lot of confusion.
I felt betrayed; lied to; ANGRY at how hard I tried to believe and how hard I tried to make myself fit; angry that I had been taught if I didn't get the "right" answers to prayers, it is because there is something wrong with ME; angry at all of the teachings that really fucked me up; angry at all of the time I spent feeling anxious and depressed because I believed; angry at the false hopes (if I just did what I was supposed to do, I would be happy.); lonely - I was afraid I was going to love everyone I loved; FEAR and GUILT for not doing what everyone thought I should; afraid of what would happen to me; and on and on and on.

Since leaving, I have had to completely reconstruct my own stories and beliefs. That isn't easy to do, and it gets even more difficult two weekends a year. I can't get away from it... I guess I CAN. I have. I ran away and went camping every conference weekend for two years. I avoided my family and refused to talk to them. I didn't get on Facebook, or read any blogs... I thought I was doing better. I thought it wouldn't affect me anymore. Apparently, I was wrong...


  1. Hey, Jen.

    Sorry to hear conference weekend was bad for you. I love that song, too.

    I'm reading through back posts, so I hope by now things are looking up.

    1. It got a lot better. I don't think it would have been bad, but the missionary age change triggered a whole lot of stuff for me.
      Hope things are going well for you too.