This is my story and it is going to be quite long, but it has taken awhile for me to get to this point. Putting my story out for other people to read scares me in a way because it makes what I have been disconnecting myself from for so long more real. But I am hoping that by posting my story here I might receive support, encouragement, or suggestions of ways to try to mentally help myself.
My father is a Chaplain in the military, basically a pastor masquerading in a military uniform. My mother's only purpose in life is to marry a Christian man so she may let him rule over her life and bear his children. My older sister (and only sibling) is on this site, too. Her testimony is titled 'Born to Be Controlled'.
I have never really fit the mold of perfect Christian, much less a preacher's kid. I have never liked any of the beliefs or practices that came with Christianity, specifically my parents are Baptist. None of it has ever felt right or real, but I 'believed' because I was told it was the only truth and that if I didn't I would go to hell. Somehow, 'sinful' things would come to my knowledge before they could tell me what Christians believe about it and I would make up my own opinion. I always had to be corrected to the Christian view. So many times that has happened, that I remember just starting to always ask in conversations 'what do we as Christians believe about that?'.
I am headed into my third year of high school, started homeschooling in seventh grade. Ever since sixth grade I have been struggling with anxiety, depression, and being suicidal. I kept all of this a secret from my family until just before summer break, my parents have always believed (and still do) that mental illnesses are not a thing. What I have been taught is that if they are, you can either pray it away or get closer to god and read the bible because he provides joy.
My sister came back to where we currently live, Hawaii a damn near perfect prison, from college for the summer break. (To know more about what her experiences have been recently, I suggest you check out her testimony too.) When she came home, I was already starting to stray from typical beliefs and thoughts. I was also struggling with wanting to embrace my aromanticism/asexuality and fearing using such words. My sister encouraged me to accept not only my sexuality (or lack thereof) , but also accepting that I didn't want to be Christian and realizing that I never really wanted to be.
I feel as though each day, I realize more horrible things about my life here. We like to now say Hellish Rant in place of 'good talk' because of it being a specific triggering phrase our parents always use when referring to manipulating us in multiple ways (emotionally and mentally mainly) and making us feel like shit for five hours. A lot of what I have realized is in part attributed to many Hellish Rants my sister and I have had recently. From her being at college and in a good and healthy relationship, she has experienced what is good/right to then come here and realize that so much of our life and the way we are treated is very wrong and abusive.
'Depersonalization', that is my current way of surviving. Also, dissociating from so much of my life and becoming emotionally removed apart from occasional anger. With that in mind, when my sister would be talking about something that our father did, be pointing out how wrong those actions were, I would start to realize how the same things had been happening to me too. Same goes for pointing out emotionally/mentally abusive and manipulative thing both our parents say to us. The worst of the recent realizations being that our father sexually abuses us through his touches 'that he isn't doing' and our mom doesn't care about.
At a young age I developed a slight touch aversion due to physical bullying at schools. Only occasionally would something trigger me and I couldn't stand to be too close, much less touched, by my family. My parents would get offended and force me to allow them to touch me (even simply somewhere appropriate was too much). Guilt trips and crying would usually ensue. They made my touch aversion worse. Even now this still happens and they both say 'I made you so I get to touch you'.
I have also had a severe back injury almost two years ago, which was not taken seriously (still barely is), and I am still in severe pain every day from. The injury was falling from a tall ladder and landing on a tree stump, which hit right next to and partially on my spine. Because of this, my entire back, shoulders, and neck are almost always in pain and I most certainly never want to be touched there. I also feel quite vulnerable with those areas because of it.
My father loves to slap a hand roughly on my shoulder and squeeze (always the one that has more pain) and gets offended when I yell because of the immense and sudden pain he just caused. He also loves to place a full hand on my back, which has been gradually moving lower in recent times.
Most recently, I was standing in our kitchen waiting on popcorn in the microwave. My parents had already ate, but neither one of my sister or I had because of the tendency to skip meals. Being that it was late evening and I hadn't ate anything, I was quite hungry and grabbed a small snack out of the pantry to eat while waiting on the popcorn. While I was in the pantry, my dad had come into the kitchen for no apparent reason really. I was eating my oatmeal pie and my father stands slightly facing me and places his hand on my lower back, right where my injury happened and I could almost feel his fingers on my butt too. He stood there staring at me, saying nothing, with his hand on me for what felt like an eternity. To the point where I thought I might puke, I stood there saying nothing as well, too frozen to do anything. Finally I tried to move away, but his hand stayed. I made an inhuman turn, dodge, and faced the other way and I still felt his hand until I nearly fell off to the side did his hand leave my lower back. I immediately felt disgusted, he then decided to seem funny or some shit by eating a ton of rice that had been sitting out could for a half hour. I threw away the oatmeal pie and spit out what was in my mouth, I can't eat the damn things now. I still had to wait for my popcorn, standing next to him as he smacked on the rice making me feel even more disgusted. My sister had to explain to me (when I told her what had happened) that it wasn't just my injury that makes that wrong, you just don't touch your child like that.
My father also likes to touch my sister and mine's butts. He likes to act as though he isn't touching anything or like what he is doing isn't wrong. Just last night, we had company over (two other Chaplain families) and I stood next to a counter in the kitchen. My dad passed by me (with plenty of space to walk farther away and also keep his damn hands to himself) he did walk a little far away thankfully, but he reached out and put his hand to my butt, kept it there for a second and let it brush along my butt until he was out of reach.
One of the few things keeping me going is the current knowledge of an outside world where I can make my own choices, embrace my sexuality, and embrace being non-binary. The other thing being my ache for vengeance for two lives and childhoods wrecked by them. The only relationship I care to have with my parents is the one that gets me graduated from high school and college, so essentially an easy money bank.
In my beliefs now is this: if undeniable proof of some religion's form of god showed up in front of me or even god himself, I would still believe in not believing in any religion or god, I would say to the proof or god himself to 'shove it' and I would move on with my life.
The pain caused by Christianity, emotional, mental, and physical trauma from my parents runs deep. So I kindly ask that people of faith, Christians specifically, be careful what they comment on th
is thread and to not try to evangelize me or put me back into faith. I truly do welcome any polite suggestions of ways to self-help my issues with mental health.