From Agnosticism, To Fundamentalism, And Back Again ~ My Story

[GirlOnFire]

Hi all!  I'm brand new here, but certainly not new to the deconversion process -- I've been going through it for a little over a decade.  A month ago, I finally, after 10 long years, was able to put all my thoughts into some semblance of sense enough to be readable and (hopefully) understandable to others.

 

Anyway, here's my story....  (Warning, it is crazy long!!  And sorry for any formatting issues - I copy/pasted from my Google Docs, and was written in pieces, so might be a bit "splicey" as formatting goes.)

 

Unlike most others who’ve gone through the deconversion process, I was not, in fact, raised in a Christian home.  Quite the opposite.  My father is a professed atheist, and majored in philosophy in college.  My mother is a feminist, a pioneer and champion for women to be brave, strong, and independent.  I grew up reading about science, learning about the universe, questioning my world and my place in it.  Except for those few times I went to church with friends after a Saturday night sleepover, I never went to church.  I had no at-home indoctrination that was instilled in me from the time I left the womb.

 

So, how did I end up “giving my life to Christ” and investing so much of my life in the church?  I have no concrete answers to that question, even for as much as I’ve pondered that over the last few years.  The best I can come up with is, for as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be liked, understood, and accepted.  As a fragile, insecure teen, I wanted to know I was “good” and “accepted” by someone bigger and better than me (God), and if I could get people (the church) to like and accept me, too, then that sounded like a pretty good deal.  Like most people, I assumed only good things could come out of churches.  They seemed like happy, peaceful, “good” places.  I saw no apparent downsides.

 

So, at the tender age of 16, I joined a youth group.  I had a friendship circle like I’d never had before.  People genuinely liked me and wanted me around, and seemed to care about my well-being.  Sure, it meant I had to stay sexually pure and drove a wedge between myself and some of my non-Christian friends, but I was finally kind of, sort of popular, so I didn’t mind making some sacrifices.

 

That’s when my life hit the pause button.  I put the development of my own “self” on hold.  What I wanted and needed in life, the beat of my own heart, no longer had a voice.  I was “living for Christ” now, not for myself.  

 

From there, I spent a year at a teeny, tiny Bible college.  The unwritten motto was, “Ring before spring, or your money back.”  I went there for the religion, and left a year later bound and determined to find a spouse.  Through a series of events, I found myself in Oregon for the summer, and met a guy.  Convinced God had sent me to Oregon to meet him -- “the one” destined to be my husband -- after a whopping 5 months of dating we got engaged, and another 9 months later, we were married. (Still are, but are on the brink of divorce. In part because I've left the church, and my husband is still in it and pities me, thinking I am bound for hell, but also for a plethora of other reasons. But that's beside the point.)

 

Shortly before we got married, we joined a church that ended up basically killing my soul, and, many years later, became the catalyst to my deconversion.  Everything at that church was fine at first.  It was a small church, and everyone knew each other and got along.  There were red flags I saw here and there (and many, many more that I see now in hindsight), but I was young and naive, and a new mom who didn’t have a clue about parenthood, wifehood, or life in general, really.  I was overwhelmed and desperately needed some “Godly guidance.”  So I turned to the church.  I towed the line.  The church handed me my life on a plate and said, "Here you go.  Eat it up."  And I did.  I shoved myself, my dreams, my goals, my heart, my thoughts, my beliefs, my....everything....into a little box.  I became like a robot.  I regurgitated Bible verses like nobody's business.  I didn't question anyone or anything inside the church or affiliated with it.  I believed that, because I was a believer, I was somehow impenetrable.  I still fiercely believed all Christians were always good, kind, loving, charitable, wonderful people.  

 

Then I suffered a miscarriage.  And that was the beginning of a turning point.

 

Probably the most painful part of losing that pregnancy were the attitudes of people in the church.  A few were kind, but most were not.  I was in excruciating emotional pain, and I expected them to wrap their arms around me and help me heal.  Instead, the pastor bounded up to me before church, playfully rubbed my belly, and when I told him I'd lost the baby, he said, "Oops, my bad," and walked off without saying another word to me.  Never once did he offer his sympathy or to pray with me or anything.  I mean, isn't that what a pastor is supposed to do?!  Care for, and pray for, the brokenhearted?!  

 

Two weeks later, at a women's retreat - which was the first church event I had attended since the loss, and the first time I'd ever been away from my 1 year old son overnight - I was huddled in sobs in a corner.  The church matriarch approached me and told me that I needed to "deal with it on my own time," that it was "neither the time nor place for this" because it would "distract other women from being able to fully tune in to Jesus" and was "derailing the real purpose of the retreat."  I felt utterly alone with my overwhelming grief.  I cried every night of that retreat and almost called my husband to come take me home on the second day.  I was that miserable.  But I stuck it out, because that is what "good little Christian women" do.  Needless to say, I've never been to a women's retreat (Christian or otherwise) since, and probably never will again as long as I live.  And because of that, to this day I have a hard time trusting other women....particularly older women in leadership roles.

 

So I stuffed my feelings and didn't talk about the loss again for another 10 years.  I moved on.  I got pregnant again pretty much right away.  (Which I don't regret - my daughter is amazing - but if I had really healed the "right" way, I would've given myself more time to grieve my loss before jumping right into another pregnancy).  

 

I continued going to that church, but there was a definite shift -- in them and me both.  They had wounded, emotionally battered, and abandoned me, but there was nothing I could do about it but suffer in silence.  I tried hard to let go of the resentment I felt over that, but I never really could.  The church became ever more clique-y, narrow-minded, and judgmental.  I couldn’t raise questions, my own opinions, or oppositions, or I was rebuked.  So I held my tongue.  But it no longer felt right.  I no longer felt that sense of acceptance….and I started to realize just how incredibly isolated and alone I was.  I started to realize just how much I had given up to try and fit in with a bunch of people who were more interested in critiquing everything I said and did, and how little of what I really wanted and needed that I actually got in return.  Long story short, it was one lesson after another in rejection and isolation.  (I could write a whole ‘nother ten pages on that alone!)  Yet....it was all I knew....it was all I had….so I stayed.  It felt really, really wrong, but the idea of walking away seemed so much scarier.

 

And then my sister fell into drug abuse.  She fell hard, and she fell fast.  Again, I needed the church to lean on.  And again, it wasn't there for me.

The final straw was sitting in church listening to the pastor blast the 12-step program and addicts from the pulpit….literally the same week my sister went into inpatient rehab!  Hope in the 12-step process was the only hope I had for ever seeing my sister alive again at that point, and he had the audacity to publicly pronounce that it was all wrong and she (and other addicts) didn’t need it because it wasn’t, apparently, “Jesus-y” enough?!  His callousness and ignorance made my blood boil, and my inner voice scream out, “THIS IS WRONG!  IT’S ALL WRONG!  HE’S A BIG, FAT, IGNORANT LIAR!”

 

That day, I walked away from that church.  Something in me "woke up" and realized that I was always more miserable when I left church than I was when I got there....and that was a big problem.  I was finally fed up; completely over feeling isolated, judged, "kicked when I was down," and unloved.  I refused to set foot in that place ever again.

 

Though I have never for a second doubted or regretted leaving that church, it threw me into major spiritual and emotional upheaval.  If my depression wasn't already bad enough, I was now near-suicidal.  There were days when I would lock myself in the bathroom in a puddle of tears, call my husband, and plead him to come home and take care of the kids.  I was completely unable to function.  I thought I was certifiably insane!  So, I borrowed a few thousand dollars from my parents to see a psychiatrist, was diagnosed with rapid-cycling chronic depression, and was prescribed mood stabilizers.  (I am now convinced I don't actually have a mental illness, I was just under extreme mental and emotional duress.  I went off the meds cold turkey 3 years ago, and am doing far better off them than I ever was on them.)  My depression began to subside some, my sister got clean and sober, and I began picking up the pieces and trying to figure out who I was and what was important to me anymore.  I had lost my own identity so fully in fundamentalist doctrine, emotional and psychological abuse, and trauma that I didn't know where to begin.  But I knew I had to start somewhere.

 

The biggest challenge of the rebuilding process has been what I call "sifting through the BS."  Unfortunately, there was a LOT of legalistic, doctrinal baloney that I was taught as "truth" at that church, that I now realize was nothing but the pastor’s ignorant and false opinions, and therefore a load of crap.  I have had to re-form my entire view of….well...basically everything --  from every human being, to every belief, to every thought, to the very existence of God himself.  I have learned that some of the most unkind, evil, vicious people in this world are the people sitting in church pews, and that some of the most unconditionally loving people are those I was taught to view as "dirty, rotten, worldly sinners."  Those who rallied around me and propped me up during my darkest hours were my secular friends.  (The number one person was a gay friend I had willingly estranged myself from - because he was gay and the church told me to - but who pushed through my brainwashing and pain and promised to be there for me no matter what, and despite all the mud I'd previously slung at him. How about them apples?!) But where was the church?  Hell if I know!

 

Funny side story about that…  A whole 6 months after leaving the church, the church secretary called to tell us that Bible study was cancelled due to a power outage at the church.  She was absolutely flabbergasted when I flatly stated I’d left the church 6 months ago.  She was adamant she had “just seen [me] last Sunday!”  In 6 months, nobody bothered to notice I wasn't there and reach out!  Never mind the fact that’s what the pastor preached ad nauseum; ”caring for the sheep, like the Good Shepherd, and lovingly bringing those who’ve strayed back to the flock.”  Yeah...that’s exactly what happened.  *eye roll*

 

I am still working on figuring out what exactly I believe, but the more I learn and grow, the more convinced I become than ever before that the answers aren’t in the Bible, or in the “voice of the Holy Spirit.”  They exist, as they always have, within me; that the strength and salvation I need don’t come from an outside source, but again, from within me.  I’m strong enough to achieve what I was put on this Earth to achieve, and I can “save” myself.  I don’t need anyone else to do that for me.

 

To this, I know many of my Christian friends will say, “No, you can’t.  You need Jesus to do that.” Or, “You realize by saying all these things you are condemning yourself to hell, right?”  To which I say, “Maybe.”  But I can live with that.  I am at peace with my life and my choices.  Don’t pity me.  I’m okay.  No….I’m more than okay!  I’m thriving!  For the first time ever - do you hear me, people? - I’m THRIVING!  And God/Jesus/Christianity/the church had nothing whatsoever to do with that.  I made that happen!

 

Remember that pause button I mentioned I hit when I was 16?  Yeah, well, 20 years later I’ve finally hit play again.  And you know what?  Who I am, who I’ve always been, who I’m meant to be….she’s a pretty great person!  She’s strong, she’s driven, she’s creative, she’s caring, she’s a genuinely  good person, a good friend, a good mother....  She’s the same person she always was!  She’s just not a Christian anymore.  And if your love for me changes based on your perception of my spiritual life, well then, that’s a you problem, not a me problem.  If you only love me for or because of my status as a Christian (or lack thereof), then that’s pretty shallow, and hardly in line with the unconditional love preached by Jesus himself.  ...Just sayin’.

 

Life’s a journey, and this is mine.  Talking about it isn't easy, but I feel like my story needs to be shared, because I know there are others who have been, or are currently going through, some of the same things I've been through.  Abusive churches are out there, spiritual abuse does happen, and it’s incredibly powerful and excruciatingly painful.  And, like any abusive environment, it takes a helluva lot of courage and inner strength to leave, heal, and move on with life.  But if I can do it, anyone can.

[Margee]

Welcome to Ex-c StillMegan! Thank you so much for sharing your story. I can relate to it on soooo many points. I have seen the church be downright nasty. I was thinking as I was reading how I couldn't get over my sisters death (almost 20 years ago) and the pastor told me that satan had his hands on me, causing me intense, black depression so I wouldn't give my trust to god for healing!! Wtf?? These people have no idea how insensitive they are. I have lots of stories of abuse in the church. I know what it feels like. I am so sorry you had to go through what you went through to wake up to the lie of christianity .

 

Try not to worry too much right now about what you believe or don't believe. You can figure that out step by step. I am glad you are free now to make your own decisions. The voice in my head that I used to call the 'holy spirit', I now call my 'higher self'....the voice that knows the better choices to make in life. Follow that for now if you don't have any spiritual practices. Read all the testimonies of the people who have joined here and you will soon see that you are not alone. You have a 'family' of friends to reach out to any time of the day. Post all worries or concerns you have and someone will always come and help you!

 

I'm so glad you are here. Be at peace tonight knowing that you never have to be alone again with this issue. Looking forward to hearing more from you.

 

Big (hug)

[♦ Fuego ♦]

Welcome StillMegan! Most of the emotional abuse I saw in church was leveled at women. Accusations of this or that, labeling them Jezebels, implying a friendship with another woman was lesbian, authoritarian behavior towards them expecting them to cave in and conform, the frilly ones expecting the rest to be like them and whoever the latest female Christian author was. And the phrase "We could sure USE you..."

 

So welcome to our little oasis away from all of the expectations and pressures to be what someone else expects you to be.

[qadeshet]

6 members, 54 guests, 1 anonymous users

 

Know Yourself! Know Yourself! Know Yourself!

 

Welcome to all our Guests!

 

Welcome StillMegan, we are happy to have you with us. Below I have given some links that should help...show you which Stage of the Deconversion you currently share. All you miss is your Guide, StillMegan, not nasty old Religion. Your Guide is your Self.

 

We will be here to help. Sit and share our company. Cheers!

 

 

 

 

Steps of Deconversion

Into The Clear Air

[GirlOnFire]

Welcome StillMegan! Most of the emotional abuse I saw in church was leveled at women. Accusations of this or that, labeling them Jezebels, implying a friendship with another woman was lesbian, authoritarian behavior towards them expecting them to cave in and conform, the frilly ones expecting the rest to be like them and whoever the latest female Christian author was. And the phrase "We could sure USE you..."

 

So welcome to our little oasis away from all of the expectations and pressures to be what someone else expects you to be.

 

 

Oh yeah!  I dealt with so much of that!  I am a singer (currently the lead in a rag tag, but fairly good, garage cover band).  When I approached the church about singing worship, I was told that I couldn't because my husband wasn't in leadership, so they questioned my level of spirituality and commitment.  Yeah....they judged my ability to sing - without even hearing me first! - based on what they *perceived* as my husband's level of commitment to the church.  It wasn't about my ability to carry a tune or my own "spiritual merit" at all!!  But then they turned right around and wanted me to volunteer for church nursery duties every single Sunday.  So...let me get this straight...  I wasn't "holy enough" or whatever (and again, not even based on my own merit) to sing worship, but apparently I was perfect to watch other people's babies?!?  Seems to me you'd need to trust someone's commitment a lot more with the care of someone else's children than singing, but what do I know?!?  (Sarcasm, if you can't tell.)  The sexist, patriarchal double-standards ran pretty deep.  Women were basically only good for "being a helpmeet" (in other words, stroking a man's ego) and popping out and caring for children.  As far as they were concerned, we had no other value, and their job was to degrade us to the point we really believed we had no other value.  (And that almost, but thankfully didn't, work on me.)

 

My husband kind of understands what I went through there now, but at the time, he was angry at me for leaving the church and just didn't understand why I thought it was so terrible.  The church tried to use up all his free time (and would guilt trip him if he said he had family obligations to me or the kids), but the psychological, mental, emotional, and spiritual abuse was all slung at me.  He didn't endure the abuse, so as far as he was concerned, it wasn't that bad.  He understands better now, at least intellectually, but I still think he doesn't accept the full scope of what I went through.  (Especially since his mom still goes to church there, so he's remaining pretty neutral and removed from having any strong opinion about that awful place.  My issues around my MIL still being there is a whole other layer to this whole story that I might delve into with you all another time.)

[miamia]

Welcome megan! <3 you are so brave and strong. I am proud of you

[GirlOnFire]

6 members, 54 guests, 1 anonymous users

 

Know Yourself! Know Yourself! Know Yourself!

 

Welcome to all our Guests!

 

Welcome StillMegan, we are happy to have you with us. Below I have given some links that should help...show you which Stage of the Deconversion you currently share. All you miss is your Guide, StillMegan, not nasty old Religion. Your Guide is your Self.

 

We will be here to help. Sit and share our company. Cheers!

 

 

 

 

Steps of Deconversion

Into The Clear Air

 

It's taken me a long time to come to that realization, qadashet, but I am definitely seeing that now -- that my guide is my own self.  It's very freeing!

 

I got into an argument with a friend of a friend today who's a Christian, and hearing her arguments made me really thankful that I now get to use my OWN BRAIN to form my own logical opinions about things, rather than just regurgitate conveniently packaged little nuggets of illogical nonsense while truly believing I was speaking "truth."  Being myself is sooo liberating and freeing!

[duderonomy]

Hi StillMegan!

I don't get to this part of the forum much, but I saw your thread title and wanted to see what your story was. I can't top what anyone else here has said, but I wanted to throw in my welcome too. I hope you stick around, and don't be shy. You'll find lots of smart caring people here.

[Travellingfemme]

Thanks so much for sharing your story, I resonate so much with a lot of it. I'm 31 and started going to a youth group because I fancied the youth pastors' son! My parents have never taken me to church. I find that makes it hard because there's a lot of self blame on my part, because I chose it for myself. However, if I think about it more compassionately, I was only 15 when I started going, so still a child!

For my part, I hav struggled with depression and anxiety since leaving 2 years ago, and sadly began anti-depressants yesterday. I understand they made things worse for you, but I simply cannot handle the all consuming grief and fear which is unrelenting.

I wish you all the best on your journey! X

[GirlOnFire]

Hi Travellingfemme, and welcome to Ex-C.  Sorry it's taken me a bit to respond....I've been dealing with some health issues the past few days (including a trip to the hospital that didn't help at all....ugh).  Anyway....

 

Self-blame....yes!  I deal with that a LOT!!  The guilt-reel in my head sounds a lot like, "You were raised better than that, you're smarter and have better critical reasoning than that, you should've KNOWN better than that....how could you ever have fallen for that?!  Or stayed in it for 5 whole years?!  Why weren't you strong enough and smart enough to walk away when it got really bad?  Why did you tolerate abuse, when you were taught how to spot and avoid it?!  How did you allow yourself to become so blind?!"  I blame myself for allowing myself to be completely duped into accepting and believing things that are just not who I am or what I'm about.  I STILL - 10 years on the other side - can't figure out how I got sucked into all that and didn't see it for the complete BS it was/is!  My counselor has worked a lot with me on that.  He told me that I need to be "gentler and kinder with my younger self."  (I was 16 when I started going to church....19 when I started going to the awful one that I mentioned above.)  I know he's right, but damn....  I still can't shake the feeling that I should've known/done better, and had I, I would've spared myself a lot of grief.

I was on and off antidepressants, and eventually put on a mood stabilizer, that I was on until 3 years ago, starting shortly after I left that church (I think I was on the mood stabilizer for close to 6 years when all was said and done).  I needed it to get over the "hump" of the existential crisis I had when I left that church.  So I completely understand the need for it -- I couldn't have gotten through the first few years of leaving/deconverting without it!  (Then I was just hooked on them and afraid to go off them for a long time, too.)  And that's the truth!  So do whatever you need to do, and please know, I don't look down on you (or anyone) for needing medication because I have been in your shoes!  The first few years are BY FAR the hardest!

Hang in there, and keep moving forward -- it's hard, but it's worth it, I promise.

[♦ nivek ♦]

Welcome StillMegan....

 

"Joke'um if they wont take a fuckin' ".

 

Feel free to let it out. It? Well Webmaster Dave has set this place up for those of we who need that spot to let out the PRIMAL SCREAM. Let that shit out.

 

Fellow travelers abound here, many folks have similar pasts or are on journeys of their own company appreciated.

 

Glad you found your way here.

 

kevinL

[Guest]

Hi all!  I'm brand new here, but certainly not new to the deconversion process -- I've been going through it for a little over a decade.  A month ago, I finally, after 10 long years, was able to put all my thoughts into some semblance of sense enough to be readable and (hopefully) understandable to others.

 

Anyway, here's my story....  (Warning, it is crazy long!!  And sorry for any formatting issues - I copy/pasted from my Google Docs, and was written in pieces, so might be a bit "splicey" as formatting goes.)

 

Unlike most others who’ve gone through the deconversion process, I was not, in fact, raised in a Christian home.  Quite the opposite.  My father is a professed atheist, and majored in philosophy in college.  My mother is a feminist, a pioneer and champion for women to be brave, strong, and independent.  I grew up reading about science, learning about the universe, questioning my world and my place in it.  Except for those few times I went to church with friends after a Saturday night sleepover, I never went to church.  I had no at-home indoctrination that was instilled in me from the time I left the womb.

 

So, how did I end up “giving my life to Christ” and investing so much of my life in the church?  I have no concrete answers to that question, even for as much as I’ve pondered that over the last few years.  The best I can come up with is, for as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be liked, understood, and accepted.  As a fragile, insecure teen, I wanted to know I was “good” and “accepted” by someone bigger and better than me (God), and if I could get people (the church) to like and accept me, too, then that sounded like a pretty good deal.  Like most people, I assumed only good things could come out of churches.  They seemed like happy, peaceful, “good” places.  I saw no apparent downsides.

 

So, at the tender age of 16, I joined a youth group.  I had a friendship circle like I’d never had before.  People genuinely liked me and wanted me around, and seemed to care about my well-being.  Sure, it meant I had to stay sexually pure and drove a wedge between myself and some of my non-Christian friends, but I was finally kind of, sort of popular, so I didn’t mind making some sacrifices.

 

That’s when my life hit the pause button.  I put the development of my own “self” on hold.  What I wanted and needed in life, the beat of my own heart, no longer had a voice.  I was “living for Christ” now, not for myself.  

 

From there, I spent a year at a teeny, tiny Bible college.  The unwritten motto was, “Ring before spring, or your money back.”  I went there for the religion, and left a year later bound and determined to find a spouse.  Through a series of events, I found myself in Oregon for the summer, and met a guy.  Convinced God had sent me to Oregon to meet him -- “the one” destined to be my husband -- after a whopping 5 months of dating we got engaged, and another 9 months later, we were married. (Still are, but are on the brink of divorce. In part because I've left the church, and my husband is still in it and pities me, thinking I am bound for hell, but also for a plethora of other reasons. But that's beside the point.)

 

Shortly before we got married, we joined a church that ended up basically killing my soul, and, many years later, became the catalyst to my deconversion.  Everything at that church was fine at first.  It was a small church, and everyone knew each other and got along.  There were red flags I saw here and there (and many, many more that I see now in hindsight), but I was young and naive, and a new mom who didn’t have a clue about parenthood, wifehood, or life in general, really.  I was overwhelmed and desperately needed some “Godly guidance.”  So I turned to the church.  I towed the line.  The church handed me my life on a plate and said, "Here you go.  Eat it up."  And I did.  I shoved myself, my dreams, my goals, my heart, my thoughts, my beliefs, my....everything....into a little box.  I became like a robot.  I regurgitated Bible verses like nobody's business.  I didn't question anyone or anything inside the church or affiliated with it.  I believed that, because I was a believer, I was somehow impenetrable.  I still fiercely believed all Christians were always good, kind, loving, charitable, wonderful people.  

 

Then I suffered a miscarriage.  And that was the beginning of a turning point.

 

Probably the most painful part of losing that pregnancy were the attitudes of people in the church.  A few were kind, but most were not.  I was in excruciating emotional pain, and I expected them to wrap their arms around me and help me heal.  Instead, the pastor bounded up to me before church, playfully rubbed my belly, and when I told him I'd lost the baby, he said, "Oops, my bad," and walked off without saying another word to me.  Never once did he offer his sympathy or to pray with me or anything.  I mean, isn't that what a pastor is supposed to do?!  Care for, and pray for, the brokenhearted?!  

 

Two weeks later, at a women's retreat - which was the first church event I had attended since the loss, and the first time I'd ever been away from my 1 year old son overnight - I was huddled in sobs in a corner.  The church matriarch approached me and told me that I needed to "deal with it on my own time," that it was "neither the time nor place for this" because it would "distract other women from being able to fully tune in to Jesus" and was "derailing the real purpose of the retreat."  I felt utterly alone with my overwhelming grief.  I cried every night of that retreat and almost called my husband to come take me home on the second day.  I was that miserable.  But I stuck it out, because that is what "good little Christian women" do.  Needless to say, I've never been to a women's retreat (Christian or otherwise) since, and probably never will again as long as I live.  And because of that, to this day I have a hard time trusting other women....particularly older women in leadership roles.

 

So I stuffed my feelings and didn't talk about the loss again for another 10 years.  I moved on.  I got pregnant again pretty much right away.  (Which I don't regret - my daughter is amazing - but if I had really healed the "right" way, I would've given myself more time to grieve my loss before jumping right into another pregnancy).  

 

I continued going to that church, but there was a definite shift -- in them and me both.  They had wounded, emotionally battered, and abandoned me, but there was nothing I could do about it but suffer in silence.  I tried hard to let go of the resentment I felt over that, but I never really could.  The church became ever more clique-y, narrow-minded, and judgmental.  I couldn’t raise questions, my own opinions, or oppositions, or I was rebuked.  So I held my tongue.  But it no longer felt right.  I no longer felt that sense of acceptance….and I started to realize just how incredibly isolated and alone I was.  I started to realize just how much I had given up to try and fit in with a bunch of people who were more interested in critiquing everything I said and did, and how little of what I really wanted and needed that I actually got in return.  Long story short, it was one lesson after another in rejection and isolation.  (I could write a whole ‘nother ten pages on that alone!)  Yet....it was all I knew....it was all I had….so I stayed.  It felt really, really wrong, but the idea of walking away seemed so much scarier.

 

And then my sister fell into drug abuse.  She fell hard, and she fell fast.  Again, I needed the church to lean on.  And again, it wasn't there for me.

The final straw was sitting in church listening to the pastor blast the 12-step program and addicts from the pulpit….literally the same week my sister went into inpatient rehab!  Hope in the 12-step process was the only hope I had for ever seeing my sister alive again at that point, and he had the audacity to publicly pronounce that it was all wrong and she (and other addicts) didn’t need it because it wasn’t, apparently, “Jesus-y” enough?!  His callousness and ignorance made my blood boil, and my inner voice scream out, “THIS IS WRONG!  IT’S ALL WRONG!  HE’S A BIG, FAT, IGNORANT LIAR!”

 

That day, I walked away from that church.  Something in me "woke up" and realized that I was always more miserable when I left church than I was when I got there....and that was a big problem.  I was finally fed up; completely over feeling isolated, judged, "kicked when I was down," and unloved.  I refused to set foot in that place ever again.

 

Though I have never for a second doubted or regretted leaving that church, it threw me into major spiritual and emotional upheaval.  If my depression wasn't already bad enough, I was now near-suicidal.  There were days when I would lock myself in the bathroom in a puddle of tears, call my husband, and plead him to come home and take care of the kids.  I was completely unable to function.  I thought I was certifiably insane!  So, I borrowed a few thousand dollars from my parents to see a psychiatrist, was diagnosed with rapid-cycling chronic depression, and was prescribed mood stabilizers.  (I am now convinced I don't actually have a mental illness, I was just under extreme mental and emotional duress.  I went off the meds cold turkey 3 years ago, and am doing far better off them than I ever was on them.)  My depression began to subside some, my sister got clean and sober, and I began picking up the pieces and trying to figure out who I was and what was important to me anymore.  I had lost my own identity so fully in fundamentalist doctrine, emotional and psychological abuse, and trauma that I didn't know where to begin.  But I knew I had to start somewhere.

 

The biggest challenge of the rebuilding process has been what I call "sifting through the BS."  Unfortunately, there was a LOT of legalistic, doctrinal baloney that I was taught as "truth" at that church, that I now realize was nothing but the pastor’s ignorant and false opinions, and therefore a load of crap.  I have had to re-form my entire view of….well...basically everything --  from every human being, to every belief, to every thought, to the very existence of God himself.  I have learned that some of the most unkind, evil, vicious people in this world are the people sitting in church pews, and that some of the most unconditionally loving people are those I was taught to view as "dirty, rotten, worldly sinners."  Those who rallied around me and propped me up during my darkest hours were my secular friends.  (The number one person was a gay friend I had willingly estranged myself from - because he was gay and the church told me to - but who pushed through my brainwashing and pain and promised to be there for me no matter what, and despite all the mud I'd previously slung at him. How about them apples?!) But where was the church?  Hell if I know!

 

Funny side story about that…  A whole 6 months after leaving the church, the church secretary called to tell us that Bible study was cancelled due to a power outage at the church.  She was absolutely flabbergasted when I flatly stated I’d left the church 6 months ago.  She was adamant she had “just seen [me] last Sunday!”  In 6 months, nobody bothered to notice I wasn't there and reach out!  Never mind the fact that’s what the pastor preached ad nauseum; ”caring for the sheep, like the Good Shepherd, and lovingly bringing those who’ve strayed back to the flock.”  Yeah...that’s exactly what happened.  *eye roll*

 

I am still working on figuring out what exactly I believe, but the more I learn and grow, the more convinced I become than ever before that the answers aren’t in the Bible, or in the “voice of the Holy Spirit.”  They exist, as they always have, within me; that the strength and salvation I need don’t come from an outside source, but again, from within me.  I’m strong enough to achieve what I was put on this Earth to achieve, and I can “save” myself.  I don’t need anyone else to do that for me.

 

To this, I know many of my Christian friends will say, “No, you can’t.  You need Jesus to do that.” Or, “You realize by saying all these things you are condemning yourself to hell, right?”  To which I say, “Maybe.”  But I can live with that.  I am at peace with my life and my choices.  Don’t pity me.  I’m okay.  No….I’m more than okay!  I’m thriving!  For the first time ever - do you hear me, people? - I’m THRIVING!  And God/Jesus/Christianity/the church had nothing whatsoever to do with that.  I made that happen!

 

Remember that pause button I mentioned I hit when I was 16?  Yeah, well, 20 years later I’ve finally hit play again.  And you know what?  Who I am, who I’ve always been, who I’m meant to be….she’s a pretty great person!  She’s strong, she’s driven, she’s creative, she’s caring, she’s a genuinely  good person, a good friend, a good mother....  She’s the same person she always was!  She’s just not a Christian anymore.  And if your love for me changes based on your perception of my spiritual life, well then, that’s a you problem, not a me problem.  If you only love me for or because of my status as a Christian (or lack thereof), then that’s pretty shallow, and hardly in line with the unconditional love preached by Jesus himself.  ...Just sayin’.

 

Life’s a journey, and this is mine.  Talking about it isn't easy, but I feel like my story needs to be shared, because I know there are others who have been, or are currently going through, some of the same things I've been through.  Abusive churches are out there, spiritual abuse does happen, and it’s incredibly powerful and excruciatingly painful.  And, like any abusive environment, it takes a helluva lot of courage and inner strength to leave, heal, and move on with life.  But if I can do it, anyone can.

Loved your writing, you conveyed your story in a very personal way.  I went from an Agnosticism to Fundamentalism too, albeit before Agnosticism I was Mormon for 19 years.  

 

That's also great that you have a good outlet for music, I had to give up most of my musical opportunities as a singer when I left.  I used to always be the guy singing on the major holidays, and was a semi-professional actor in musical theater out of high school.  With a career and a family, its been hard to find opportunities now that I'm not a Christian to use my talents.

[GirlOnFire]

I gave up my outlet for music to be in the church.  I still sang at home, but didn't dare try to be part of a worship team.  It was actually a high school friend who got me back into music.  He called me out of the blue back in October and invited me to join his band because they needed a singer.  I had no self-esteem left in my own singing abilities after so many years of the church not liking/appreciating it/letting me do it, so it took a lot of courage, practice, and encouragement from my band-mates to feel like I actually *am* a good singer again.  The more I sing, though, the more I realize I not only love it, I pretty much NEED to sing to feel sane and like "me."  I had no idea how much of myself was missing all those years that I didn't sing and perform.  I had forgotten how big a part of me it was!

[Guest]

I can definitely relate, music is very closely tied to who we are, not just what we like.  Appreciate your thoughts and story.