Losing Our Religion #deconstruction #stagesofdeathanddying #kublerross

 

That's me in the corner

That's me in the spot-light

Losing my religion

Trying to keep up with you

And I don't know if I can do it

Losing My Religion

In my mid-twenties, during the height of my fundie experience when all was still rosy, I spent a scant amount of time as a youth counselor for my church's youth group.  In that, I met with, got to know, and became close with several young teenage girls and boys as we traveled and fellowshiped together.  For a short season of my life, that little group was of high import to me and one that now, after fully deconstruction, I look back with fondness at the inside jokes, cherished memories, and experiences we shared.  Of recent, I have had the good fortunate to re-connect with several of them via the famous Facebook and am rather pleased to see that the majority have made the difficult but empowering decision to separate themselves and leave the fundamentalist religion of which they were forced to comply.  Through the leaving, I am now seeing them define and discover their own selves apart from what was forced upon them with much celebration and encouragement on my part.

Thus, as one that will always hold in my heart that of big sisterly affection for them and because a social media post or direct message never seems to fully impart what I wish to say, I decided to write this blog sharing the journey I have taken in my deconstruction path.  Now, I must clarify, that these individuals have not remained 15, 16, 17, but rather are all fully grown adults in their thirties, maybe forties, and thus I do not clearly know where exactly they are in their deconstruction and healing.  However, be that as it may, I feel strongly that I must share my story to help not just my once upon a time "youth group younger siblings" but perhaps a reader who discovers this entry may find it useful for their own journeys.

Officially and also unofficially, I left Calvary Chapel on a Sunday in 2010, as described in this entry, On The Day I Left Calvary Chapel, not ready to admit fully to myself, feeling the freedom within to have the ability to realize, that I was actually walking away.  Those first early years stumbling away were fraught with their own struggles, mostly due to an abusive, undiagnosed schizophrenic (most likely) husband, who I finally got the wherewithall to kick out in 2013.  After that, I was finally able to start the process of deconstructing, not just from Calvary, but from the myriad of abusers that had bull-dozed their way into my life and taken control.  For whatever reason, throughout 2013 and 2014, it was then and only then, that I was finally able to find people online sharing their stories of leaving Calvary Chapel and the abuse from such they had experienced.  My search led me to a website titled, "Calvary Chapel Abuse Recovery" where I poured through stories upon stories of those sharing their truths about what they had experienced, most seemed worse than I had experienced, tales of child abuse, sexual assault, and more.  With tears streaming down my face, I felt both vindicated but also guilty.  Yes, I had been a victim of Calvary Chapel, but, at least what I could see at the time, I had not experienced anything of such paramount.  This caused me to lessen my degree of suffering and not want to share my story, my voice, at first.  Through this website, I was led to the podcast, Drunk Ex-Pastors, (hosted by two former pastors of Calvary Chapel), and through that was able to connect with others whose experiences were less drastic and similar to mine.  Finding these like-minded kindred spirits helped me to finally share my truth and find healing in my journey. 

As I traveled through this journey, something I found on the Calvary Chapel Abuse Recovery website stuck with me, that of the stages of death and dying put forth by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, something I had been exposed to during college.  But, as I looked through it with eyes of a struggling, deconstructing lonely ex-Calvary Chapelite, I found new power to the truths therein.  Physical death is not merely the only thing pertinent in Kubler-Ross's stages, but also the death of other such losses, such as belief, relationship, or career.  Before I set forth, I want to express that the process of these stages does not fall in a linear fashion during healing, but rather the road through is one full of ups and downs, backwards and forwards. 

Because of you

I never stray too far from the sidewalk

Because of you

I learned to play on the safe side, so I don't get hurt

Because of you

I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me

Because of you

I am afraid

I lose my way

And it's not too long before you point it out

I cannot cry

Because I know that's weakness in your eyes

I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh

Every day of my life

My heart can't possibly break

When it wasn't even whole to start with

Because Of You

Denial:  For my part, this phase wasn't formulating because of anything political, but rather closer to the core of my being.  As I walked the walk of a Christian throughout the years of 2008-2010, there were several red flags of warning that kept waving themselves in my face try as I might to squash and ignore.  As early as 2004, the church seemingly began to, ever so slowly, decree what information and knowledge sources we, as believers of the Calvary Chapel god, should ascribe to, these were either conservative based Christian media, networks, and news-based, or even more insidious, consume only that material which is written and endorsed by Calvary Chapel leadership.  Furthermore, I had church members warn me of reading and watching such content as what would be the classics of literature and film.  I was made to feel shame for my favorite all time film, The Wizard of Oz, for that very reason! Lastly, due to my diagnosis of Bipolar, I was finally adventuring into the world of recovery, at the time both secular and religious, and as I grew in the depth of relationship with my variety of recovery friendships, my Calvary Chapel friendships were falling flat and feeling more and more empty.  This, too, I did my best to shake off, by reminding my red flag waving self how blissfully pure it had been and was, I mean, yeah, it has its ups and downs...red-flag waving self, you can just be quiet, I'm not listening.  However, my red flag waving self, having an advanced education and background in critical thinking, could not be silenced and finally I allowed her to align with myself again, which led me to that fateful Sunday in 2010.

Anger:  Oh, my god, yes was I angry!  Angry at the years wasted in my twenties following lies when I could have been enjoying the beauties that life fully offers outward, angry at the abuse that I and others had experienced, angry because I still felt silenced, unheard, alone in my revelation.  Like I shared, in those early years after departing, still trying to proclaim myself as Christian, yet feeling increasingly shame and anguish, struggling in an increasingly abusive marriage, I found no other sources online or in person that could concur with my assertion that, maybe just maybe, I had been involved with, gulp, a cult.  (Technically, I wasn't, but yet I assert that the definition of cult needs to be updated in light of the reality of what the fundamentalist christianity has become, but that is a blog for another time, perhaps this entry may be sufficient: The Christian Right Needs To Die!!) The Exvangelism movement had yet to take root and my friends, Jason and Christian, had yet to begin their Drunk Ex-Pastors podcast journey.  So, my anger was left unheard or explained away, I wanted so much to rescue my saved friends from being saved, for them to see the light too, and to have that sweet connection we once had shared. But alas, nothing doing, I was left alone in my heart-ache.  

Bargaining: This one is a heavy load when it comes to my journey of deconstructing from fundamentalist Christianity.  It contains everything from "This can't be reality, come on, let's just act like its as good as it once was" to the sufferings of one leaving and having to struggle over the guilt over not attending church, not reading their bible, not having their morning devotionals leading to worries that every bump in the road of life is based on their not being faithful in their Christian imposed duties.  It's the place you find yourself when you first walk away and looking around, realizing you are all alone, well, maybe, maybe, it's not that bad, all my friends are still there, position.  It's heavy, it's dark, and when also faced with the growing realization that your wedded bliss is anything but and you are quickly becoming the stereotypical battered wife, it leads to the depth of despair of the next stage.

Depression:  The dark and lonely stage and for me had to be overlooked due to my more pressing reality of dealing with my often psychotic and abusive husband.  It was not until I expelled him from my house and life on that fateful Oscar Sunday 2013, in a performance that should have received an academy award, that I was slowly able to start recognizing, admitting, and beginning the healing journey.  It came slowly, through loving friendships(non-Christian) who came along side as I went through my divorce and supported me with laughter and a loving hand when I awoke screaming in terror, finally finding websites and a podcast that proclaimed a truth similar to mine, and others who shared similar stories shared over hours upon hours-long coffee dates.  It came in quiet moments of my life, reading alternate spiritual books wherein I realized the sweetness of the Christian Holy Book, the Bible, as just that 'A spiritual text not THE', the moment when I realized it wasn't literal but figurative and actually heard a part of the mind controll break off and fall away "Crack", the moment when my PT Cruiser broke down yet again and I realized that this wasn't happening because of my sin, but merely because bad things and good things happen in life regardless of our actions or circumstances.

Acceptance: Finally, I found myself at this stage, through all the struggles of the last four, lots of laughter at the absurd craziness of the shared experiences of fundamentalism and, more so, Calvary Chapel, and the tears over realizing I am not alone.  At last, as the tears fell away, a smile formed of peace.  I look back now at those happy, gleaming faces of friendships of memory I shared in the golden moments of Calvary with gratitude.  I hold in my heart those I called friends still a part of that worldview, even though I disagree and despise some of their understandings and practices, still, on my end, the love remains regardless of action.  With that, I have peace and release them unto the journey they have been brought to this life to explore and behold.  

Finally, once again, these steps weren't always linear, but were often mired in a mixture of one another, sometimes simultanously and other times overlapping, but continuing forth, healing was actualized. 

As I write this, I don't want to presume to know fully what others have experienced or have suffered, specifically those I once counseled in our little youth group, those who were once pastor's kids (PKs), or youth group pastor's kids, or by parents' who just thought the whole fundie thing was swell.  Even more so, I am a white, straight, cis-gender woman and cannot fully understand the suffering of one with another alternate identity.  Yet, I do have empathy increasing based on my own experiences and sufferings.  In that, I can say that there is hope, that whatever the path may lead, belief in the divine or not, real love and peace is found in such an increasingly abundance outside the confines of fundamentalist Christianity that the struggles of deconstructing are worthyof all the pain.

If you or someone you love has recently left a fundamentalist religious organization or is suffering in anyway, please feel free to reach out: cafegirlproductions@gmail.com or comment below.

Check out my buddies' podcast: Drunk Ex-Pastors

Do you have religious trauma disorder? https://woventraumatherapy.com/religious-trauma-quiz

Trying hard to reach out

But when I tried to speak out

Felt like no one could hear me

Wanted to belong here

But something felt so wrong here

So I prayed I could break away

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly

I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky

And I'll make a wish

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Out of the darkness and into the sun

But I won't forget all the ones that I love

I'll take a risk

Take a chance

Make a change

And breakaway

Breakaway

For more of my deconstruction journey:  My Religious Trauma Story

Johnny Depp/Amber Heard, Part One: My Thoughts TW: domestic abuse, Intimate Partner Violence

 

You are not alone, your abuse is real, you do not deserve to live this way, you have done nothing wrong. 

Because Of You

I lose my way

And it's not too long before you point it out

I cannot cry

Because I know that's weakness in your eyes

I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh

Every day of my life

My heart can't possibly break

When it wasn't even whole to start with

Yesterday, June 1st, 2022, was a day of victory not just for Johnny Depp, but for all victims of intimate partner violence/domestic abuse, specifically that of cis-male survivors perpetrated by their cis-female counterparts. 

By now, I have shared numerous times that I am a victim of IPV, specifically from my ex-husband, but also from previous romantic entanglements as well as, some degree, family, friends, colleagues, and church.  The degree of which occurred in my relations pertaining to my abusers is not what I want to further share at this moment, have in the past, but don't dwell on or over-share because it's not what defines me.  However, I do feel it significant that I accept my past history in order to be an authentic outspoken advocate for domestic abuse as well as a support of those also suffering so that they can reclaim.  With that, I have an active facebook group, Survivors Of Emotional Abuse, with group members of all genders have come together to share and support one another in their journeys towards healing.  (I also have a group pertaining towards spiritual abuse for similar purposes.)  Through these conversations and connections, I have been able to witness firsthand the stigma and invalidation cis-male victims of female perpetrators have experienced once leaving the relationship.  The disbelief that a cis-male could be the victim in a domestic abuse relationship is difficult to perceive and therefore discredited.  More often than not, the woman perpetrator proclaims herself the victim, and as we have seen with  Amber Heard, society, in general, believes her and vilifies the male victim.  

As seen in the chart above, the percentage of male victims who have reported their abuse is lower than female victims.  However, this does not mean that women are abused more often than males, rather, this reflects what has been reported.  

Long before the abuse becomes physical, many other tactics are implemented to control, subdue, dominate, as well, there is a cycle to the abuse: tension building, violence, honeymoon, finally, calm.

In each phase, the abuser uses the tactics described above as a means to ensnare and keep their victim hostage.  During the honeymoon and calm phase, the victim is expected to forget the abuse and forgive, thus done, the abuser once again has the power and the cycle continues.  

As seen in the chart above, the prevalence of abuse used from cis-female to cis-male appears to be higher in the non-physical in a variety of ways than physical.  This facet has been shared with me by my cis-male friends that have experienced domestic violence from their cis-female partner or spouse.  However, this does not signify that cis-female to cis-male is never physical, but may be demonstrated in different ways than in cis-male to cis-female.  As we have seen documented in the case of Johnny Depp vs. Amber Heard, there were elements of physical abuse used throughout the tactics of manipulation.  

TW: All the Times Amber Heard Admits to Violence / Hitting Johnny Depp Audio Recordings

The reasoning behind abuse often given is that the perpetrator wants to hold power and dominance over their victim.  This week I read an article by a woman claiming that Johnny Depp could not be the victim because his older age and role in society puts him in a higher place of dominance than Amber Heard.  Evidence shared during the trial proves otherwise as well as Johnny Depp's re-telling of his history of violence perpetrated by his own mother.  (Johnny Depp reveals childhood abuse from ‘violent’ and ‘cruel’ mother and says drug-taking was to ‘numb feelings’)  In addition, a person's status in society may not resemble how they interact and behave within the confines of private relationship.  The reality of past trauma, possibly not dealt with, affects how a person reacts to current relationship instability leading them to become the submissive, fearful victim.  

In conclusion, I do not believe that Amber Heard set the #MeToo Movement back, however, I believe Johnny Depp brought it forward by revealing to the world that cis-males, "Men" too can be victims of intimate partner violence.  That said, if you are a cis-male victim and believe you are an IPV victim, here is a resource: https://www.facebook.com/mentoomovement/

You are not alone, your abuse is real, you do not deserve to live this way, you have done nothing wrong. 

Breakaway

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly

I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky

And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change

And breakaway

Journaling Through The Years: Episode 10: Sadness & Nostalgia & A little...

Golgotha Temple

Sitting in a strip mall restaurant, looking over the sunlit concrete ocean of parking lot, the cars filled with people busying themselves in their evening activities, post-work, what's next for them, home, bars, soccer practise, I shudder to think, bible study...The exterior of this moment with its plasticity and cemented exterior brings to mind a former life...I find my mind filling with old memories of myself, in a different time, a part of me that I wish not always to remember, a time when I wore loose turtlenecks to hide every ounce of my horrible flesh, a time when my insides felt rotten and I hated the sight of me, a time when from the pulpit the Pastor preached about my degradation and waited while I bowed my head in submission, a time when I sacrificed myself, my own desires, interests, passions, and creativity, for the good of the whole, but in doing so, lost all sense of purpose in life...a time when a forced smile masked the depression and pain inside, a false constraint so much like the turtlenecks I wore...a time when looking pretty on the outside was more acceptable than self worth and evaluation on the inside, when all that mattered was that you conformed to their interpretations of the Bible(or face the ostracizing effects) in so doing, peace and joy was promised but never obtained...

As I recall this time of my life, I'm filled with anguish not so much for myself but for those still trapped inside. It is for them, then, that I begin this story. However fiction it may be, beacons of truth will shine through, reveal the darkness pretending to be light, and bring freedom to those enslaved to the deception.

Because Of You