As a kid, I had serious physical issues that arose from horse-riding accidents, playing sports, as well as dental procedures, etc., that all went off without the benefit of pain relievers or medical attention. The only time I was afforded medical care was when I broke my forearm. I consumed an adult beverage before I’d had so much as an Advil.
I remember one night I woke up about 2:00 AM and was itching like crazy. I couldn’t stop no matter what, and it was everywhere. Before the start of school I furtively bought some Noxema because I was so damn tired of having an unnecessarily poor complexion and felt I had given plenty of time for the Christian Science ‘work’ to ‘work’. So I decided to use my right to seek other treatment—as all of us in Christian Science were assured we could, so long as we never intended to actually follow through! I have no idea why, but I decided to slather that stuff all over myself, and it was a friggin’ miracle! That belief of itching stopped almost instantly!
I will say that generally, my parents and family must have been extraordinarily compassionate as Christian Scientists go, because I never was made to feel as if I was being a pain in the ass for ‘seeming to experience a belief of sickness’. That’s not to say that there aren’t dozens of other ways that I don’t feel as if I am constantly waging a battle in my head. It’s strange, in fact, how often I find myself having to explain that I grew up a Christian Scientist because I don’t share a common reference point or I have an issue with something that’s still a problem all these years later. Anxiety and depression were companions while I was still putting up the facade of trying to practice Christian Science, but it wasn’t until many years later that the big breakdown came and a tidal wave of pain and trauma came flooding out of me.