the belief that nearly destroyed me
“Too hard.”
How many times have you heard that phrase? I’ve heard it a lot. When you wrestle with mental health issues, this phrase and concept especially seems to come up. In church, it was too hard to please God because “all have sinned and fall short.” At home it was too hard to please my family because of my uncontrollable emotional outbursts and overwhelming circumstances. Around everyone else it was too hard to be who they wanted me to be because I hyperventilated and started experiencing painful muscle spasms they all got uncomfortable with. It often felt like every place I turned, especially as a teen, everyone expected me to be someone else.
When I was young I clung to my Christian faith like God was the only life raft there was to save me, but I couldn’t quite get in and so I constantly felt like I was about to drown. I clung and clung, trying to feel accepted by someone as people (peers and adults alike) alienated me because I made them uncomfortable. It was torture. Of course I had a few solid friends and I made a place for myself in church through music, so I was not completely destitute. However, that feeling never went away. All it ever took was one person getting uncomfortable with my awkwardness or hyperventilating or muscle spasms and I was about to drown again.
Everywhere I turned I was faced with “can’t” and “too hard” until it became a belief that trapped me like a victim of myself. My family, my friends, their God made me feel like everything was too hard and no one accepted me as I was. The really aggravating part is that there isn’t a specific person I can blame and hate. Ignorance is the cause. Half truths. Not questioning. Not aspiring. Not knowing empathy. This is what led me there.
Humanity has too long of a history of these traits. Passed down from generation to generation. In church and out of church. What I have been most afraid to share is how people shattered my faith. The faith that I would describe as my life, like my blood and my beating heart is my life. My faith story is indeed painful. It is full of anger and passion, but it is also beautiful. It runs alongside all the stories I have of how alienating mental problems are. It breathes life into all the darkness and loneliness I have been captive to. My faith eventually did set me free. After I left the so called church and threw their theology in a figurative trash can. Then my Elohim called to me. Then the Torah gave me life.
This is hard to share, so I’m signing off for now,
Kelly Ann.
When I was young I clung to my Christian faith like God was the only life raft there was to save me, but I couldn’t quite get in and so I constantly felt like I was about to drown. I clung and clung, trying to feel accepted by someone as people (peers and adults alike) alienated me because I made them uncomfortable. It was torture. Of course I had a few solid friends and I made a place for myself in church through music, so I was not completely destitute. However, that feeling never went away. All it ever took was one person getting uncomfortable with my awkwardness or hyperventilating or muscle spasms and I was about to drown again.
Everywhere I turned I was faced with “can’t” and “too hard” until it became a belief that trapped me like a victim of myself. My family, my friends, their God made me feel like everything was too hard and no one accepted me as I was. The really aggravating part is that there isn’t a specific person I can blame and hate. Ignorance is the cause. Half truths. Not questioning. Not aspiring. Not knowing empathy. This is what led me there.
Humanity has too long of a history of these traits. Passed down from generation to generation. In church and out of church. What I have been most afraid to share is how people shattered my faith. The faith that I would describe as my life, like my blood and my beating heart is my life. My faith story is indeed painful. It is full of anger and passion, but it is also beautiful. It runs alongside all the stories I have of how alienating mental problems are. It breathes life into all the darkness and loneliness I have been captive to. My faith eventually did set me free. After I left the so called church and threw their theology in a figurative trash can. Then my Elohim called to me. Then the Torah gave me life.
This is hard to share, so I’m signing off for now,
Kelly Ann.
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