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First of all {{{HUGS}}}, it must be very difficult to feel called, and really want to do something and be told-twice-'No'. However, you have to try and see it, not from your point, but from THEIR point: someone with a manageable mental illness (at the moment, manageable, but they don't know if and how it will develop 5, 10 years from now, so that's problem number 1), and a chronic pain disorder (which means that probably getting up half-way through the night, keeping the Hours, doing all the work and chores EVERY DAY, is not going to be a realistic option, because how will she fare 5, 10 years from now)...enters the convent, and is put through the postulancy/noviciate. Now...and here I can actually give you a real-life example, let's call her Jenny. When I was a postulant at a Benedictine abbey, in 1996-97, there was a woman called Jenny, who was deeply religious, and very attracted to the contemplative, cloistered lifestyle. We were on the same 'Candidate-weeks', and we used to talk a lot (as we were not in the 'cloistered part' yet, but in the guest-house we could), she was a lovely person, and casually mentioned that she had suffered from depression most of her adult life. But that it was 'under control'. Our Mother Abbess had decided to let Jenny have an extended stay as a 'Candidate' in the guest-house, and it went really well. She kept the 'Hours' (we still prayed 7x a day), worked in the vegetable garden and fitted in brilliantly. All the novices and nuns adored her and after about 3 months she was allowed to join as a 'Postulant' and have her own cell. Again, it went absolutely fine and she seemed completely settled. Infact, at that point she was doing much better than me! I found the Silence, the no-unnecessary talking, the concept of eating what is put in front of you, not complaining about the cold cells and other minor things REALLY hard. As the months went by, the fact that you were, in a sense, cut off from the world (we only saw 1 hour of TV a month, if that and read no newspapers), and spent most of the day in prayer, alone with your thoughts, alone with yourself, became increasingly hard for me. But Jenny seemed to be fine about it, her family could visit on Sunday afternoons and she settled in well. By March of the next year (so after about 9 months) she was a bit more 'quiet' and we noticed she spent more time alone, even during Recreation (the hour in the evening where we all could talk, play board-games, do puzzles and knit. With Sr Clara and Sr Martha we even played a little handball at times). For me, by then it was clear that I couldn't do this long-term...I'm a very quiet, private person who ENJOYS being alone...but with the OPTION to go for a walk, put the radio on etc...Here in the abbey, making those decisions myself, were taken away from me, I was told when to do what, I started to HATE the bell calling me to prayer, I really needed to pray when I wanted to pray, and the 'structure' of the day, where I knew '5.30, time to get up, 6am first prayers in the chapel, 6.30am Mass, 7.30am breakfast, 9am until 11am working in the vegetable garden, 11am second prayers of the day, followed by lunch at 12noon, in silence listening to a fellow nun reading etc etc...Day after day, following this strict schedule, without being able to say 'I want to do things different today'...it began to grind. By May I had made up my mind to leave, I LOVED the abbey, I'm still in touch with the nuns there, but I realised for ME it started to feel like every day lasted a year...I cried and cried when I got home, and felt such a failure...but I also knew, it just didn't suit my personality. About 2 years later I heard Jenny had left...midway through the noviciate. She had suffered from depression for a long time, had managed to contain it, and the nuns were getting increasingly worried over her...in the end, she suffered a complete breakdown and had to be hospitalised for quite a long time, and the decision was made not to allow her back. There were many nuns for whom this was very painful: they had grown attached to Jenny, and for them it had been a traumatic experience that took a long time to heal from. It was a case of her personality and her personal needs not being compatible with her feeling that she was really called to this. I know the Mother Abbess blamed herself for allowing her in, in the first place...but I think Jenny's personality would have been better suited to a less structured, more hands-on-in-the-comunity order, she may have fared better there (where as I KNOW that wouldn't interest me). The fact remains, being a nun means dying to self, doing as you're told, praying when it's on the schedule and having a VERY structured, VERY monotonous life. That is HARD for women without a mental illness...infact an aunt of mine entered the Franciscans in the late 1940s and suffered a nervous breakdown after 10 years, and was transferred to a more open order, the Sisters of Bethany, where she lived out her life...but when she was in her 90s dementia caused a lot of problems and a lot of the mental health issues from when she was younger returned. Now, she had NO mental health problems as a young woman. So, being a nun is HARD, it's not an easy option like so many people seem to think, and having the feeling that you have no control over your life, and may be asked to go places you don't want to go, that is HARD for everyone. Let alone if you already are, in the world, presenting mental health issues...Every order has to essentially make a risk-assessment: what risk is there when we allow this woman to join us. Will she be USEFUL to us, will she FIT IN with the other nuns, is she of a personality-type that finds submission/obedience easy, will she be able to wor hard for us so we can keep this convent open (the days where the Diocese would supplement ailing convents are over in most places, you've got to balance your books or you're on your own in most cases!).I think in your case they simply think: what is this going to cost us. We may get attached to her, we invest in her, but her work out-put may not be enough to keep us ticking over, and we would have to pay for her medication, for life and if -due to the stresses and strains of being a nun- she had a relapse, or became permanently unable to earn her keep, and in worst case scenario cost us a fortune in mental health nursing, it could bankrupt our convent and hurt us all. Now, that's not what you want to hear...and I know that, but that's how it is. I think also, you have to REALLY ask yourself WHY did you want to be a nun? Because ...if I'm honest, I thought it was going to be a much easier, secure (as in no unemployment, no worries about bills etc) life. And only by actually doing it, I realised that I much rather have the insecurities of life...because for me, the abbey was a wonderful time of my life, and I show my daughters pictures sometimes, but...I also know how HARD it was, how truly difficult being all alone with yourself and your thought during hours upon hours of Silence and praying can be. And it takes a certain personality, someone STRONG enough...And for THEM it is the perfect life, for them it does transcend everything and is all the ever want. But...that's a very small portion of Catholic woman-kind. For most of us, it would be intolerable! As I found out...as did Jenny.
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