Category: mental health | Page 4 | Spiritual Abuse Blogs

Look Past… and See the Wounds

Look past the twirling locks of honey-colored hair, framing yet hiding the deep lines on my face. Look past my ankle-length skirt to see the shame deep within. Look past the frumpy shirt with enough material to pinch on both sides of my chest, and sees the scars underneath. See the scrapes, cuts, and bruises that most never dare to see. They desire only to see the pantyhose with three-quarter sleeves, rather than the wound bandages underneath. They can’t see the deep grooves on my arms, the ones deformed from healing incorrectly, and the others still fresh from today.

Does God see my hurt or does He only see that I’m not pouring into the Bible day by day? Does He see the blood oozing out or does He only care that I haven’t prayed? Does He see past the modesty and shame-facedness to actually see my shame? Does He see that I’m aching and broken? Does He see that I’m battered and bruised?

Does He see that it’s not that I want nothing to do with Him, but that I’m not sure how to trust again? I’m shattered at the core and have yet to figure out how to begin the repair.

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Holidays Got You Down? Don’t Let Them

This is a little different from the norm for here since it’s not about spiritual abuse per se. However, the holidays, in general, are tough for a lot of people. In my case, it was a combination of old, painful memories from childhood and more recent memories from needless blended family stress.

The blended family-related stress did, however, have a major impact simply because of its scope. Unnecessary stress over who bought what for whom, spending too much time preparing food for a crowd of varying size, and wondering which of the visiting kids is going to end up breaking something is something nobody needs. Yet, these types of things happen in too many homes during this time of year because we’ve let what we say we’re celebrating get out of focus.

We don’t know for certain what time of year Jesus was born – traditions and the changing religious landscape of Western Europe gave us the Dec. 25th date, not Scripture. However, for a celebration that’s supposed to honor his birth, we’ve allowed Christmas to become anything BUT Christ-honoring.

Some of the “delights” many of us have to cope with:

Annoying invited or non-invited guests more interested in an additional meal
Rude drivers and nowhere to park when you finally arrive
Snide comments directed at one’s choice of churches
Little chance to enjoy time off work because of too much time spent preparing
Radio stations and TV programming that offer little respite from holiday options

For the effort that many Christians put into “Keeping Christ in Christmas” and “Remember the Reason for the Season,” these are mere platitudes for a lot of people who see the holidays as something to endure. Maybe the ones we need to remind about the why of Christmas are ourselves.

One of my biggest takeaways as having formerly had a “difficult” relationship with the holiday season has been making a distinction between the popular trappings that are unfortunately a major stressor for many and the feast of the Nativity that has Jesus as its focus. Elements of both the secular and sacred overlap, of course, but when Jesus is first and foremost, it’s easier to choose the things that draw us closer to him.

Do our holiday celebrations draw us closer to God and to each other? Maybe that’s what we should ask the most this Christmas.

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When Suicide is Selfless (Part One): Within the Cult

Looking back, I still remember the first time I felt hopelessness completely overtake my life, enveloping all joys into sorrow, and laughter into days of tears. The compassionate mentor who became an explosive dictator demanded to know every detail of my past sexual encounters. He likely wanted some form of company as his black Grand Prix was struggling to shift from first to second gear on the highway, plugging its way home on a grueling one-hour drive from work.

At first, I refused, knowing the phone conversation to be inappropriate between a forty-something year old married man and an eighteen-year old college student. He repeated his demands through coercion and manipulation until he finally resolved to threats. His wife- we’ll call her Mrs. Julie- was my friend, mentor, and accountability partner and we were supposed to talk on the phone in a few minutes, at four-thirty as we did every weekday. We would go over a list of daily questions, had I given in to any one of multiple temptations, as well as any other issues to discuss in the spiritual walk of a college girl. He knew I was emotionally and spiritually dependent on her and he used it to his advantage. Once again, he cut off all communication between Mrs. Julie and I until I conformed to his wishes. I also wasn’t allowed to tell her that he cut off communication, but simply leave her in hurt, broken trust, as she was a woman who highly valued dependability, loyalty in friendships, and keeping one’s word.

He was jealous of the time his wife spent mentoring teenage girls, and particularly her time with me. He often accused me of loving his wife sexually and would even direct me to a different room in his house to establish that his wife was his property. Now, with his vehicle falling apart, requiring expensive repair, he needed some semblance of control. Or maybe he needed some sick fantasy to aide in the time and distract him from the stress of the current situation, probably because he withheld from his wife as a form of sexual and emotional control as well. Defeated and concerned about Mrs. Julie, however, I gave in to his perverse commands. Thankfully, as a virgin, the account was limited, but he wanted to know every detail of petting, kissing, touching, and discovery.

When I was finally able to call Mrs. Julie, I had to explain why I was so late. But upon hearing the circumstances, she wasn’t angry with her husband- we’ll call him Brother Thomas- she was furious with me. She was livid and tried to have me see it from her perspective: a young teen girl expounding to her husband about her sexual life. I had crossed a line that no one knew how to rectify. Once again, I was the wedge between her and her husband. I was the one who caused the argument.

I was caught between a rock and a hard place, simply longing for all to be at peace. If Brother Thomas cut off communication entirely, Mrs. Julie would never forgive him, driving that wedge yet deeper. It would literally break Mrs. Julie’s heart for either one of us to break off our friendship, but here I stood: between Brother Thomas and Mrs. Julie, always trying to do the right thing, but continually making it worse.

There was no solution except for me to just be out of the picture so no one was to blame. And so began what I would later learn are called “intrusive thoughts”:
“What if that truck behind the church swerved just enough to hit me where I stood?”
“What if the shuttle driver over-corrected and we went into a ditch?”
“If only that car lost just enough control, and I would no longer be a detriment to their marriage and Mrs. July would be able to move on without the continued heartache.”

Looking back, I see how Brother Thomas was perverse. I see how Mrs. Julie placed the blame on me when her anger should have been directed towards her husband. I see now how it’s better that my life didn’t end that semester- I now have a loving husband and beautiful children! -and I can see now how they weren’t worth my life. But people continue to say that “suicide is selfish.” Let me tell you, it’s not always selfish. Sometimes it’s selfless.

Sometimes it’s from being beaten and berated to the point that one no longer sees the value in their own life, only that the end of their life would end the torment in another’s life. It’s not true, but nearly impossible to see in the moment. Depression and suicide lie. Spiritually-abusive cults continually remind us that we are as worthless, sinful worms in the eyes of God, when in reality, we are His treasure.

***If you are contemplating suicide, there is no reason to be ashamed nothing good comes out of a life lost. You are truly precious in God’s eyes. Seek out a friend or family member, a general care provider, or call the Suicide Hotline at 1(800) 273-8255. You can also text 741741 and a crisis worker will text you back immediately and continue to text with you. It’s a free service to anyone who lives in the United States and it’s run by the Crisis Text Line. Suicide isn’t always selfish, but it fails to show that there are other ways and your life is worth living.***

When Suicide is Selfless (Part 2): A Mother’s Love

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My Mask – IFB Related

The following article is written by a woman who wishes to remain anonymous. It is about Independent Fundamental Baptist churches, though others will also relate.

In my preteen years, I was taught to believe that expressing any negativity in any way was a way to show that I did not actually possess the Fruit of the Spirit (or evidence I was saved). Since the qualities included “joy” and “peace,” any sign of discouragement, depression, sadness, anxiety, was taken as a sign that I was under the devils influence. If I was under the influence of Satan, I was either “backslidden” or not truly saved.

Therefore, anytime I was in public, I was reminded by my mother, or people in my church, that in order to be a “good witness” for Christ (and not give God a bad name in the process), I had to put on my happy face. And I did so.

Anyone who saw me in my teenage years would have imagined that I was living a life of pure bliss. I was smiling literally ALL of the time. I always acted cheerful, even though inside, I was deeply depressed (in fact, nowadays, when I see a girl who smiles too much, I worry for her). I radiated what appeared to be pure joy, “the joy of the Lord,” so to speak.

However, I remember sitting in my room by myself, day by day, and being just so incredibly depressed. I would lie there, reading books or drawing pictures, and thinking to myself, “What is the purpose of living, if you’re just going to die anyway,” “Does anyone really care about me? Why do I actually exist at all,” and sometimes my thoughts would gravitate to how scary death would be. I would imagine my funeral and wonder how many people would show up if I died. I truly believe the only reason I didn’t commit suicide was because of the intense fear I had of going through the torment of the fires of Hell.

I remember one time, passing a note to my friend at church, which said, “If I died tomorrow, would you go to my funeral?” At the time, it seemed perfectly normal to ask such a question.

I sang a lot of “specials” (songs) at the church regarding joy. Here’s an example:

“Happiness is to know the Savior,

Living a life, within His favor,

Having a change in my behavior,

Happiness is the Lord.

The Joy is mine,

Even when the teardrops start

I’ve found the secret

It’s Jesus in my heart!”

But what I couldn’t understand through the years was…why didn’t I feel this joy I sang of? I was living a lie, but was not allowed to acknowledge this fact. It was forced to be a secret buried deep within myself, and I despised it.

My mother frequently read my diary, so I never felt quite like I was able to be honest in it. Yet, I felt a deep desire to write! So sometimes I would begin a journal entry, and I would be honest about feeling bad…then I would consider whether the entry would be a “bad witness” for Christ. I worried that if I was to die that day and someone was to find it, they might think badly of God and therefore be denied the opportunity to be saved, so I would actually erase the entry and change it into something that looked “positive.”

For instance, I would think, “I feel so lonely. Why am I not happy? What is the purpose in life? There is no meaning in anything! The kids told me I was ugly today and it really hurt my feelings,” but I would write, “Today was such a BEAUTIFUL day! The sun was shining and I got to go to church and see my friend. Someone got saved today, and I’m so happy for them! I can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow!”

If you read my journal back then, it might have seemed that things were good, but they were actually tragically bad. And this actually was a problem for years into my marriage also. I was unable to allow myself to believe anything was ever bad. This denial caused me to not be able to confront issues as they arrived and I went through much unnecessary hardship as a result.

The Bible NEVER condemns feeling sad, or anger, or any other God given emotions. Our emotions were given to us by God to help us to see and address problems in our lives. They are tools to help us, and they are not sin in and of themselves. Ephesians 4:26 says “Be angry, and do not sin. Don’t let the sun go down on your wrath.” It does not say not to be angry, but not to allow that anger to cause you to SIN.

David poured out many tears to God, and expressed deep sorrow multiple times, and yet he was considered “a man after God’s own heart.” The Bible says that He knows our suffering intimately, and cares for us. He has experienced the same types of pain we have, while existing in human form on earth, and He knows our suffering and carries our burdens on His own shoulders when we give them to Him. Jesus – even though he was GOD HIMSELF and knew the final outcome of the situation- WEPT with Martha and Mary over Lazarus. He knows our emotions and does not hold them against us. He gave them for us, to help us heal. They are a GOOD thing.

If you have grown up with the idea that being true to who you are, and expressing emotions is a negative thing, or that God would be upset with you for expressing any sad, angry, or hurt feelings, please know that the God in scripture does not EVER express such an idea. Emotions are a gift from God. Being honest with who we are and what we feel is healthy. Being dishonest and wearing a mask is unhealthy and breeds resentment, and continues the cycles of depression. We must be honest with our emotions in order to find healing.

JOY does not necessarily mean that every moment you feel happy. True spiritual joy is in knowing that despite the trials we face here on earth, we have a Heavenly Father who loves us and that NOTHING can separate us from His love. We can pour out our hearts HONESTLY to Him, and do not have to hold back our anger, tears, pain, disillusionment, etc. He understands, is patient with us, and helps us to heal with the tools he has given us – our emotions.

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Drowning In Empathy

I remember the first time I heard the word empathy, which is odd, because as a social worker, I hear it almost daily. But, having been raised in a very guarded religious environment, I had a large vocabulary that included words like sympathy and pathetic, but not empathy. So, what is the difference between sympathy and empathy? The very best way I know to help you understand that is to send you to Brene Brown’s Youtube video, which you can find at this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Evwgu369Jw

To put it in my own words, sympathy is when I acknowledge that another person is going through a difficult experience. Empathy, however, is when I’m able to actually feel those negative emotions that they are feeling, even to a lesser degree. Empathy is getting in the rain with them and getting a little wet when it is raining in their lives, even though the sun is shining in mine. It’s being able to put my feet in their shoes for a moment, even when that means the rocks might cut my feet through those holes in the soles.

Although being a social worker actually requires an element of being able to be empathetic with one’s clients in order to properly serve them, I find that I sometimes have too much empathy–as if there is such a thing. Some days there are just too many emotions that swirl around me, like waves on a turbulent sea, and I am drowning in them by the end of the day. Some people call this ability to feel so keenly the feelings of others “being an Empath.” Others find it a really healthy way to be able to connect with others and be present in their lives for healing. When the overwhelming days come, the professional terminology is that I am experiencing “vicarious trauma.” The remedy for that is to pay attention to my emotions, provide myself with self-care activities, and take it easy until my emotional equilibrium returns to a balanced state.

Interestingly, a person who is unable to feel or express empathy for others is considered a sociopath or psychopath. Feeling empathy for others is a very healthy thing, and it is what creates compassion and kindness in the world. Yet many who have been exposed to abuse of any kind for any length of time will form one of two extremes. Either they will lose the ability to empathize with others, or they become overly empathetic with everyone. While the former creates abusers, the latter can lead to being re-victimized. Needless to say, the former is attracted to the latter because an empathetic person is a great target for someone who is manipulative and controlling.

As highly empathetic people, we also have to be aware of this and on our guard more than others, realizing that we attract these types of controlling and harmful individuals just because we are “too kind” or “gentle” to stand up against it when we are being mistreated. It is important that we find the balance in order to stand up and draw the proverbial line in the sand and firmly forbid that those individuals cross that line. Self protection is something we have to learn, and it is best learned within healthy relationships where we are appreciated for our empathy but also respected as individuals with needs and desires of our own.

When I end the day feeling down and depressed about the situations of others around me, I begin to understand that I am taking on burdens I was not meant to carry. When I am feeling the feelings of others so deeply that I cannot focus on my own life and feel the proper emotions for what is going on right in front of me, it is too much. We are meant to be empathetic individuals, but like everything else, in a balanced way. When I find myself drowning in empathy, I will not be able to sleep at night for worrying about the problems of others, or I will be unable to focus on my family at the dinner table due to my concern for the sadness of a client that I saw that morning.

I have to remind myself, and you have to remind yourself, that I am to use my empathy as a tool to provide healing and support for others. My empathy is not to drown me or cause me to become it’s tool. I am an individual person with a life that is colored by love, sadness, happiness, joy, pain and attachment with my own children, and when I am not called upon in a particular moment to be empathetic, I must learn to put aside my empathy for others and focus on my own life and my own emotions. This is part of living in the moment. This is why mindfulness exercises are important for some of us.

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