Real Pain

Not that it would ever be any other way, but I must warn you that I'm about to get very real.  And, it's going to be a touchy subject that most people don't like to talk about.

Painful Church Experiences

Preface:  If I survive this season I am in right now, this is one of those posts I want to have as a reference.  I know that this is an area where God will or won't.  If I don't fall completely away from God and church, this will be one of the areas where I will undeniably be filled with praise.  It's also worth saying that the odds just don't seem in my favor right now.

Let me tell you about the first three years of my time in church.  I was there.  If the doors were open, I was there.  If there was an event, I was there.  I didn't miss a Sunday School class, sermon, meal, or bible study. 

It wasn't always easy.  I was incredibly quiet and struggled to make any meaningful relationships outside of a couple staff members.  People weren't overly welcoming, but I continued to just show up.  Sure, I left disappointed a lot.  It was hard to see small groups of people standing around after church or bible study talking and being friendly only to walk silently to the car with my husband. 

Even though I had a tough time understanding the bible study or sermons, I continued to try.  I took in very little and for reasons I couldn't understand at the time.  Later on, I'd learn what the issues were and why bible intake was/is so difficult.  In all fairness, I was one of so very few new Christians trying to understand material which was so far above me.  A strength of this particular church is teaching deep, biblical truth.  A weakness is teaching deep biblical truth with the assumption that everyone has at least a basic understanding of the bible.  Regardless, I continued to be present.

Things started to unravel slowly for me near the end of my third year when my first Sunday School class changed.  The teacher went to another class, along with many of the members.  After giving the class a try, as well as several others, I finally gave up.

During this time, I also found myself rolling from one toxic friendship to another.  Some of it was your typical women not playing nice together.  Looking back, I think this was the point I learned that professing to be a Christian doesn't mean anything to some people and "I'm only human" or "I'm just a sinner" is the go to excuse for bad behavior inside the church.  (I know, that one is going to sting a little for some people.)

There were a handful of relationships that were outside your typical squabble.  In each of them, I think the person was incredibly broken and chose to prey on someone they saw as weaker or less than.

I had the confidant who took it upon herself to publicly humiliate me with details of personal trauma I had shared with her.  Another was just straight up crazy and took pieces of my past and shared them with others as her own.  Another confided in me that she was cheating on her spouse, tried to get me to lie for her and then turned on me when I let her know I could not be a part of her sin.  Each of these could be a blog post all of there because there was certainly more crazy surrounding the relationship.  Oddly enough, none of them are in this church any longer.

Then there was the mother of all toxic relationships. 

In the fourth year of being at the church, a mental illness diagnosis would rock my world.  At that time, I had a few relationships but only one close friendship.  Through the next 18 months, this person would do her best to position herself as my one and only friend.  She became so enmeshed in my life that I couldn't see the relationship as toxic.

I can't go into a lot of detail because heaven forbid she read this and get upset (even though I've not mentioned names).  So nobody thinks it's one of those "gosh everybody gets hurt by somebody, so maybe you should just get over it already," I'll give you a little more info. 

When the relationship finally ended, it took other people to end it.  In one day, this person went from being what I thought was my best friend to being an abuser.  I know, abuser is a strong statement.  Anyone who knowingly uses some one's mental illness to their advantage and for their own pleasure, they are an abuser.  (in my opinion)

What this person did was beyond comprehensible.  I'm not even sure it was legal.  I'm not sure it's legal to force someone to go or stay somewhere they don't want to be.  I'm not sure it's legal to use fear as a means of getting away with things that are blatantly wrong.  For nearly three years, I've struggled to understand why and how and what all she did.  The relationship ended in a way that did not make a final conversation possible.

Let me just share with you that the relationship ending when and how it did was absolutely right.  I had people step in and take care of the situation the best way they knew how.  Please know that I am appreciative of that.  I alone could not have removed myself.

Some of the wrong doing, the horrible abuse of trust, was done inside the church.  Again, I can't go into details.  But, I can tell you that there are many rooms in the church that I cannot step foot in because it is still too painful and elicit flashbacks.

I'm sure without more detail, it's difficult to understand why this one relationship would cause such a struggle for me with church or the people in it.  But, it has.  Today, it still causes me to withdraw and be afraid to get close to anyone.  It probably makes no sense to you how that can cause me to let myself be vulnerable one more with anyone. 

This person used my illness (by the way, I hate referring to it that way) to take advantage of me.  Understandably, I think there was/is a hesitancy by everyone involved to share my diagnosis with anyone else.  In fact in nearly two years, I can't say that there have been more than a couple additional people who I've been able to share this with.  Some people know a little, but not the diagnosis.  I understand, everyone involved wants to protect me and others. 

But that has put me on complete lock down.  To know me, understand me or be able to help me at all, you'd have to know the extent of my issues.  To be of any good at all, you'd have to know my diagnosis.  Without that info, I'm constantly hiding who I really am.  When I'm in the deepest, darkest struggles, I can't even walk out of my house.

Do you see where this is going? 

Toxic relationships and fear of trusting anyone has made church difficult.  Having to withhold who I am or what my life is really like has made church nearly unbearable, especially in the tough times.

Church is where you should be able to go and be yourself.  You shouldn't have to fear people.  You should be able to share openly the struggles of your life. 

I'm falling apart here.  My husband is a mess.  Our lives are a web of depression, anxiety and loneliness.  I'm barely surviving each day and often pray there's not another one. 

There's so little help, so few who know the depths of our pit.  YES, we look good when we have chance encounters with people.  (I'm well trained in making misery look good so nobody see the truth.)  But things are NOT ok.  I'm NOT ok.  I don't have what I need to make it through this alone.  As much as I appreciate the one or two people who do know, they aren't even enough to help me get through this time.