Jump to content

rach

Regular Member
  • Content Count

    522
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    2

rach last won the day on April 20 2015

rach had the most liked content!

Community Reputation

330 Excellent

About rach

  • Rank
    Skeptic

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Female
  • Interests
    spirituality
  • More About Me
    I am Rachel. I am always looking for the truth.
    I dream of going to space :)
    The god of the bible is my enemy

Previous Fields

  • Still have any Gods? If so, who or what?
    great spirit creator

Recent Profile Visitors

844 profile views
  1. I'm horrified about "coming out." I hate being fake and sooner or later I'm going to be found out as a nonbeliever. Likely to end up without a home if that happens and I already struggle with feeding and clothing myself. My biggest fear is violence. A-parents are not emotionally stable and are very aggressive for Christ. They also would force me into Christian counseling at their church. I've been wanting to ask them to stop praying for me and stop speaking to me of Christ, but that would put me at risk of being found out.
  2. You haven't lost yourself, just an outdated belief system that was holding you down. You're like a balloon that's just cut it's strings. Yeah, it's scary, really scary. We used to be Christian balloons, tied down to the anchor of Christianity. Now we're flying solo. Christianity for me was an extra limb, like having an extra arm attached to my body. I tried so hard to make it feel natural. I tried to make it a part of my life. I tried to make myself cry every time I forced myself to read about the crucifixion. I tried to force my mind to get in line with the Holy Spirit- by agreeing with everything Christ said and did, even though my spirit did not even like this man Christ. When I left Christianity, it was an amputation. I'm still having "phantom pains." I still feel like a big part of me is missing. But having that extra "limb" was never natural. It was never, and is never, going to fit in my life. The cross has brought me only pain. For so long I hung upon that cross with Christ. It is time to get down now. It is time to walk away. It is time to recognize that a savior who demands that we "carry a cross" all our lives is not much a savior at all.
  3. "When someone claims to kill out of love, run away" !!!!
  4. ^ Wyson, really hurts to know that our ministers must have known all along that parts of the bible's accuracy was in doubt. They promised us the bible was inerrant. They assured us that Satan was using historians and archaeologists to deceive us. Talk about betrayal! We put our very lives and souls in the hands of those men of God. And they lied!
  5. I think it's good for those of us who have had multiple re-conversions to take a look back and analyze "why did I fall into the trap again? What was I motivated by?" You may find a pattern. Mine always occur at times of emotional crisis. When you're scared enough, you'll do anything. You'll convert to a religion you can't stand. You'll pretend things make sense when they actually don't, a little subconscious trick to reassure yourself. At my greatest times of distress the first person I want to call is a minister because they seem so sympathetic and unthreatening. I mean it's easier to call a minister you've heard preach for seven years- when you know his face and you know how his voice is going to sound, than it is to call a crisis center or go see a psych doctor you hardly know. And you're first instinct when you're vulnerable is to go towards what you know. What I've always known is Jesus and his daddy and the churchfolk. It's counterintuitive to go the opposite direction- which is the new and unknowable. Part of having multiple conversion and deconversion experiences is that our brains are naturally re-wiring themselves against all that was once familiar and intuitive. Our brains have been through a major shock and I would call it a trauma. Over time, and time after time, we are trying to teach our brains, "I know you are accustomed to going this way [back to Christian-Land] but it never works. We've got to go to uncharted territory". Our brains and emotions do not like that a bit and they rebel.
  6. Have relapsed multiple times. Relapse is a particular struggle for those of us who suffer with mental/psychological disorders. I can be a fervent Christian one day and a fervent atheist the next. It doesn't even have to take a whole day to "switch". Switching can happen instantly and usually in response to an emotional trigger. I've even had relapses when I have allowed myself to start feeling sorry for God, because he seems so goddamn pathetic in the bible and obviously- take a look around- can't ever seem to get any control over this world he's created, and I start to think he must be so lonely being the only one like him, and so I re-convert out of pity for God. Of course it never lasts long. In seriously mentally ill states I have been both atheist and Christian at once, which is hard to describe but when in mentally fragile conditions we can hold two contradictory views at once. I know I am highly susceptible and need to stay away from churches and evangelists because I am too easily manipulated by emotions.
  7. "God loved you so much he ripped the skin off his son". Let us sing praise. How marvelous, how wonderful, God tore up, his only child..." You know something, Christians, I have had a pet dog. I don't have him anymore as he has died of old age already. But let's call him, "Mory", my only son, for he was a son to me, and I loved him as much as any mother or father loves a child. Mory was loved, and I once almost broke an arm trying to protect him from being hurt. Now imagine that back when Mory was alive, someone had shown up on my doorstep and said "Miss Rachel, we need for you to sacrifice Mory. You see, we need him for medical experimentation. You see, Miss Rachel, a disease called Sin is spreading. If you let us experiment on Mory, we can cure Sin and stop it's spread. We can save humanity. We can save you too, Rachel. But if you do not give us Mory, you and all humanity are doomed." Do you know what I would say? I, who am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a saint or a holy or a god? I would say "fuck off!". I would say "then it looks like we will all be damned." I would say that my Mory will not shed a drop of blood for me. Not for me and not for anyone, and to hell with anyone that suggests that he should. I would say that no creature should be demanded to spill it's blood for another, and if that's the way of things, then the way of things is wrong, and let us be damned then. And I, Rachel the Sinful, would put God the Father to shame.
  8. rach

    Not Doing Good

    I'm not good at coping. I work,watch movies, and read books.
  9. rach

    Not Doing Good

    Things are not going well at all and I am in a very depressed condition once again. In bed all day today and haven't stopped crying. The spiritual atmosphere at home is at a fervor and it is very detrimental to my fragile mental state. A-mum is preparing for the most important event of the year for her, which is a Christian religious conference, so she has to spend a lot of time (many months actually) preparing materials and then she will act as teacher for a part of the conference. I am in too fragile a condition to deal with this right now. Everywhere I go in the home there are open bibles and religious materials much of which was written by a-mum, making me feel as though my mind and feelings are under assault. It has brought too much "Jesus" into my fragile little safety nest of home where I try to find a little bit of stability in the world. I have confessed on this website that I struggle with fears of the outside world having had some very bad experiences with men and learning to perceive them all as dangerous. Home is the only holdout I've got for escape from the world but it is burning down, so to speak, with the fires of Jesus. Jesus, to me, is just another dangerous man, but worse, as he is the invisible god controlling the minds and actions of the people. A-mum gets into a nervous fit of rage if she is interrupted or distracted from her "holy work" or if she perceives me as not supporting it. It slipped out, I asked her to stop doing it (the conference) and that of course led to an angry outburst. She still does not know the truth about me being an EXC and she is still Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. On the phone: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. When talking with her friends: lets pray to Jesus! When children come over, singing songs about Jesus with them. When we get in the car we must have Christian radio which I beg a-mum to turn off. I have sent many signs out that I am EXC but she is too wrapped up in her faith to notice the signs of my disapproval. What I have noticed is that when a-mum's (and a-family in general) Jesus fervor goes up, the anger and control exerted by them over me also goes up. Also, the verbal abusiveness and emotional manipulation increases. When the intensity about Jesus increases, my thoughts of Jesus and God get more severe, and I experience them as being very real beings which desire to hold me as hostage and do increasingly evil things to me. At this time I am trying to avoid human contact and am only interacting with the "safety" of the computer.
  10. I bravely started my journey out about ten years ago. Remarkably, my journey out began with a journey straight inwards, throwing myself right into the heart of Christianity. A compulsion about "going to hell" came over me and I reacted by going as deep into Christianity as anybody can ever get. I walked past the teachers and preachers and went straight to the source, the Bible. It was there I got my information on living right. It was in that scary place where I first began to experience the fruits of Christianity. I had expected the love, the peace, the acceptance into my new Christian family of believers, I had expected answered prayers and I had expected to meet Jesus just the way the teary-eyed white people at church gave their emotional testimonies about how they met Jesus, and how he overwhelmed them with love and gifts. I was in awe! Here it was that I, a lowly impoverished Native toilet-bowl scrubber, was to meet the man-on-fire himself, the king of the universe with eyes aflame, Jesus Christ. He would transform my lowly existence! He would make me like the whites with their clean, loving families and McMansions. But the reality of what happened was shocking, mentally damaging, and emotionally traumatizing. I did not meet the king. Tensions and frustrations built up as time and again I came back empty-handed without the answered prayers and granted promises I had been assured. I became a monster of a person trying to be like Christ, trying to love and serve everyone all the time just led to being taken for granted and increasing resentment of others. Christianity taught me not to plan for the future, and not to work too hard because God will always provide. Poverty increased. Self-reliance and self-esteem went down. Worst of all, my new "Christian family" at church rejected me no matter how hard I tried to be just like them. People at church didn't love me. Didn't even like me. I had been rejected by the church people all my life but I thought it's because I wasn't really really saved back then. I was a child of the devil and they sensed that and they rightfully abused and rejected me back then. But now that I'm SAVED! they will love me as their own. I couldn't wait to get to church that first Sunday after making my commitment prayer to salvation. Surely now they would welcome me now with open arms, and they would invite me over for dinners and they would be fighting over who gets to sit next to me and talk to me. Surely now I will finally be good enough to be one of them! Now, the Star-belly Sneetches had bellies with stars, but the plain-belly Sneetches had none upon thars. You just don't know how I looked at those people when I was eight-years old in my bug-eyed glasses squished between the big white people in the church pew, their arms around each other, their fancy hair and beautiful faces, their sparkling clothes, how I dreamed of being one of them. But, because they had stars, all the Star-belly Sneetches would brag, "W'e're the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches!" With their snoots in the air they would sniff and they'd snort "We'll have nothing to do with the plain-belly sort!" When the new SAVED! Rachel showed back up at church-shock- it was all the same as before. For a people that preaches love and puts themselves on a pedestal that they and they alone have the sacred love- all I got was ignored, despised, and at best, pitied. My Christian adoptive family tolerated me. Never once did I find the love and family that was promised. That was the most gut-wrenching part for this orphan. A great lesson was learnt, that I thought I knew before but didn't- if it sounds too good to be true it probably is. Now I really know what that means. And instead of listening to Jesus I should have listened to the other great master, Dr. Seuss.
  11. It was a revolution in my life when I discovered I didn't actually love the people at church. Hell I did not even like them or want to be around them. Nor did I love their system of beliefs. I had always just been so brainwashed into thinking they were my eternal "brothers and sisters in Christ". I thought I loved them and wanted to be with them. But every time I was with them, every single time, I was left out and unhappy. I don't need Christ and the artificial family he offers. I sat through many sermons where the minister would call us, the congregation, his loved ones. He frequently said to the congregation "I love you." And looking back I know those are empty words. He had no love for me, someone he hardly knows, and I had no love for him. And that is ok. I feel so relieved not having to belong to a false family anymore. It is so freeing to be able to say "I don't love everybody. There are just a few people in this world that I love."
  12. Lucy, the cameraman was part of the church, yes. He didn't think he was doing anything wrong or manipulative because the adults impression of the kids at church was that joining hands in prayer was something we would naturally do. We were hooligans! Little hellraisers that loved to go screaming through the halls. I think the adults were in a bit of denial about our natural behavior
  13. I've figured out that if something is truly compelling, it will be compelling without any dramatic music or speech. One of the big problems with churches and camps is they won't let you escape from the emotional minefield. There is always music and dramatic speaking and acting going on. About the camera stuff. When I was eight years old I was at church with my mum after-hours who was working on some things. A few other church kids were around and we started to play. In came a man with a camera. "Everybody get down on your knees and fold your hands in prayer". Huh???? I was so confused. I kept asking the man "why?" since we weren't really praying to god. He said just do it, it's for a video. So we obey the command from the man, and a group of us children sit in a circle with folded hands and eyes looking up to heaven. Next Sunday. There's that image flashed up on the screen in front of the church. "Children in prayer for their missionaries" is how it is labelled. There also is music playing in the background about god sending missionaries. I am embarrassed. And, I am ashamed of the fakeness of it all. I don't know the god I am supposedly praying to. The church crowd ooohs and awws at the power of God who has led the children to gather in prayer. A-mum is beaming with pride. Years later, when I start to read and watch film, missionary becomes a 4 letter word to me.
  14. Jeff I really liked reading your posts. I remember experiencing all the emotional manipulation of Christian kids camps and youth groups. What I didn't realize back then, but realize now, is that it's a manipulated faux environment. Church too. They can play your emotions like a harp. I know now even when I watch youtube videos, if there's background music playing I start to feel the emotions of the song in connection to the visual content. If I mute the sound, my emotions towards what I am seeing on the video typically become more real (what I mean by that, more true to what I really feel in my heart when watching the video). So I find out that church and Jesus were puppeting me around all along like their own little marionette. Add a little piano music to that dramatic scripture reading, have a guy on stage that looks like "Jesus" in a white robe, and the emotions are taken for a ride to wherever they want to take you. I wish you could talk to my a-mum. She is hopelessly lost in the Christian bubble and has been frantically involved in all things church since before I was adopted. I have no hope of her ever coming out of her euphoric Christian bubble. She loves to sing "I once was lost but now am found was blind but now I see". But she doesn't see. That's the problem. She sees only what the church tells her to see. She 'sees' god's calling on her life this way and that. She 'sees' this ministry over here and that ministry over there and a thousand others like it, all of which she must delve into. What she has never seen is her adopted daughter, suffering under too much weight of Christianity until the spirit is broken. What she has never seen is the beautiful, proud culture and spirited independence of her Native child: all she sees within is Satans' stronghold over the "lost" Natives, and their "desperate need" of Jesus. Having a-mum for a mum, is like having a robot mum, and I have had to manage on my own mostly. She cannot provide anything emotionally for me because her emotions are given to the church. The saddest thing of all is she cannot accept me. She can accept everything and everyone else as part of god's mission. But I will not allow myself to be used as her missionary project. And so, I am cast aside, too dangerous to be dealt with, for my blood is full of a history she cannot acknowledge.
  15. Thanks for writing this. I am an adoptee too. Racially from a people group that "the Lord" doesn't seem all too fond of. My adoptive parents always meant the best for me and I know that. But they did get involved in the popular program of the eighties, "growing kids god's way." My miserable lot! The fundamentalist community taught my parents to break my will as well. My memories of childhood are heatbreaking and I don't even ever want to think about it. My will was already broken! I had already lost my beloved family and was traumatized beyond recovery and still am coping with profound grief. And contrary to Christian opinion, having one's "will broken" is an incredibly harmful thing. Nobody should be broken. A broken will means depression, lack of motivation, lack of energy, lack of any kind of self respect or self love (two other things Christians object to). All I needed was love. Not Christ. Not terrorizing hellfire sermons and being screamed at every time I "sinned." Just love and understanding and proper care.
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines.