It Seems This Way

It seems this way.  What I mean is that every day about this time I get depressed and I don’t understand why exactly.  I’m generally happy – not super happy, but a content happy.  I enjoy my home.  Love my home in fact!  Yet this darkness invades my soul like a chaotic mix of dread and anxiety.  Images pop into my head that are not healthy.  I think dark thoughts about hurting myself but quickly push them away.

I decided to write today because I have a burning desire in my heart to get out an emotion that is as old as me.  That emotion is tears.  It seems that I cannot cry when my heart is hurting.  I wonder of that is because of the torture I went through in the cult, being told how horrible I was, and then judged if I was really sorry about how bad I was.  The reality is that I wasn’t being bad.  Is asking a question bad?  Is wondering about something that someone said a bad thing?  In my case only if I showed any expression on my face.  The explicit use of expression was a violation of the cult leader.  Only approved expressions were allowed.  So whenever I was caught making any other expression than the approved expressions I was invited into a “session” with the leader and his wife.

What would happen is that he would point out a flaw in my expression and put a name on it such as, “being critical”.  I would deny the accusation because I honestly was not being critical.  I may have squinted, I may have wondered about a statement but not critical! Regardless, scripture was thrown at me like darts at a dart board.  Scripture about how bad I was and was being.  Scripture about needing to repent.  I did not ever, the many times this happened, ever believe I was wrong.  I did know however that unless I confessed to being wrong I would not be allowed to leave their presence.

So I did what any normal person did, I said I was sorry.  That never worked.  This is where she came in:  Judge, jury, and prosecutor!  I have memories of hearing endless statements that I really was not sorry.  That I was not truly repentant.  Even when I cried it was not enough.  I had to be broken, and broken is what I became.  Eventually I sobbed that I was so sorry.  Not saying sorry as in I made a mistake, but that I am a sorry individual, a real mess.  Only then was she satisfied that i was truly repentant.

It makes me sick now that those people who claimed to care had such hold on me and brought me to the point of no hope.  I didn’t know anything about religion, so I got sucked in easily.  I was needy and they are narcissistic.  I use present tense because they are still alive, still sucking the life out of people under the guise of a church and “real” christianity.  I left them long ago, but the loathing of self is still present.  It is almost intolerable at times, like in the evenings.  A lot of my abuse happened in the evenings.

Therapy is helping.  Maybe being open and writing about it more will help.  You see I am quiet even though I am an extrovert.  Silence is the only thing that kept me alive in many of the cult situations.  But I don’t have to be silent any more.  I don’t know how to share myself.  I don’t really know how to socialize, or make friends with people.  I prefer the safe zone.  Safe is where I keep my feelings inside and my tears too!  But not really because I am crying to be heard.  I feel better just writing this out.  I shall endeavor to be silent no more.