Ministry Major Malaise

I wish that I could write a post that fully shows how much depression sucks. I wish that there was a way I could let you take a peek into my world and what it’s like living in this world. A world where you don’t trust anyone, lest of all yourself. A world where it’s like you’re reaching and grasping for something, a shred, a spark, but perhaps it just doesn’t exist. A world where it feels like a game of Jenga, and that you never know if the next block being removed will cause you to wobble, collapse, or stay sturdy.

But yet, I’m taking a break from writing about depression to try and write about something else. Because it all interlinks together. It all fits together, somehow, someway. It all overlaps and it’s all a part of the same puzzle.

I’ll be honest, I haven’t talked a lot about my week at IHOP. How it completely shattered my faith. How in so many ways, it screwed up how I view God. How it completely broke me. How it played mind games with me. How I went on such an emotional roller coaster. And frankly? I feel stupid! HOW could one week, “onething”, affect me so deeply? It was just a week, for God’s sake! There’s no reason it should have shattered my faith so badly, that it should have so badly demented how I see God. There’s no reason, and I beat myself up constantly for it. I know who God is. I know logically, I know all the facts, but convincing my heart to believe what my head knows is a struggle.

I find myself on the brink of self injury. Why, you say? Your scars are fading. You’ve been free for so long. Why would you throw all that away for just a few moments of solace, of false serenity, of bittersweet relief? IT HELPS. It lets me out of my inner hell, my inner demons, for just a little while, and that is help enough. It’s not worth it in the long run, but sometimes we do things that aren’t worth it in the long run just because we don’t know better. But no, how dare I ruin God’s temple. How dare I screw up the gift God gave me. How dare I turn to myself! I’m a pathetic excuse for a Christian because allegedly His blood was enough so I don’t need to shed my own. (You will see how this relates, I hope, and this paragraph isn’t just random).

I’m struggling to keep my head afloat. I’m struggling to keep normal sleep patterns, eating patterns, living patterns. I find myself escaping to books, video games, TV shows, and movies just to try and get a break from my brain, from my crazy self. And what I hate the most? Several years ago, I’d turn to God. Several years ago, I’d pray. Several years ago, I’d find refuge in my faith. And now I don’t. Now my faith, the very thing I’m studying in college, the very thing I desire more than anything to do with my life, is what is scaring me and plummeting me deeper into the pits of despair. I find myself angry at God: angry at Him for allowing that week, angry at Him for allowing all the hellish moments of my life. Then I get angry at myself for getting angry at God because who am I to be so angry at Him? I find myself angry from events at old churches that shook, shattered, and tore my faith to shreds. I find myself furious of what people do in the alleged name of God, the horrible hurtful things they do – some intend to hurt, some because people are just sometimes dunderheads.

And yet, I hurt myself. Because I see how I am not worthy. I see how I am a bad Christian, and maybe all those terrible lies I believe in reality are true. Maybe there’s a reason I went through those various church and ministry-place-related struggles, because they’re the truth. Logically, I know that’s a bunch of bullcrap, but who said my brain is always logical?

And worst of all, I’m terrified. What if I make some mistake in the ministry? What if I totally screw someone up, shake their faith, tear their soul to shreds? How would I ever live with myself? What if I mess someone up as badly as I was messed up? Am I being rational? Am I irrational? Would I have these fears if it were not for how badly I’ve been hurt “in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?” What would church pastors say to me? What would fellow Christians say to me? What would atheists say to me?

It’s difficult. I’ve been hurt in so many ways, by so many people. And an age-old saying is “hurting people hurt people.” What if… what if I hurt someone? What if my hurt ruins someone else? Is it just a vicious cycle that will never be ended?

hello darkness my old friend

Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again
Beause a vision slowly creeping, left it’s seeds while I was sleeping
And the visions that was planted in my brain stil remains
With the sounds… of silence. 
– Simon and Garfunkel

I recently came across some details and information that hit me hard. And once again, it traps me in darkness and silence. I don’t want to be silent about it, but for now I have to be. And once again, I’m talking with the silence. Once again, my voice goes unheard. And I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know how to feel about that.

Details about the past that made me angry, hurt, and confused have left me feeling even more so. While the queestions are answered, the anger rages. WHY is this person still allowed in a position of authority in the church? WHY hasn’t anyone spoken out? The answer is simple – if they do. they will be hurt. And I clinch my fists in anger and rage because, just like I was when all this shit hit the fan when I was 18, I am helpless. I cannot do a goddamn thing about it, and it breaks my heart. More people can be hurt, but I have to stand there wordlessly and watch it happen.

I’ve been asked with all the shit I’ve dealt with within the church, why I am still a Christian. Why I’m not an outright atheist. Why I even want to go into the ministry.

I know that there are people hurt by the church.
I know that there are people who are standing there in the sounds of silence, unable to speak for fear of what might happen.
And I know that there’s another side.

I also have a side passion, but that doesn’t fit with this blog entry so I will blog about it later.

One day… I will leave the sounds of silence.

I said, sometimes I hear my voice and it’s been here…
silent all these years. 

Someone’s waiting to love you

To all the unloved;
One day, you will be loved. One day, you will break free of the vicious cycle of abuse. One day, you will find hope, peace, comfort, and joy again. You may scorn now. You may feel like no one could ever love you. If the people who created you can’t love you, how could anyone? If your boyfriend beats you, why would you deserve any better? You may scoff and feel like you’ll never truly be loved.
I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep, feeling lost and unloved. I know what it’s like to be alone in the world, to have no one but yourself to look out for you. I know what it’s like. I’m no stranger to abuse.
But I also know there’s another side. I know that there’s another way. And you don’t have to be here forever. There are people who want to love you, if you just let them. There are people who want to help you. And if your abuse is “just” emotional? Emotional abuse hurts too. There is never any “just” for abuse. Here is a PSA I did on emotional abuse last fall for a class.
If you are a teenager and a victim of child abuse, please get help. It doesn’t matter if it’s happening now or if it happened in the past, if you’re still feeling unloved and in danger, seek help. Check out childhelp.org . If you are being abused by the ones that claim to love you, young or old, check out thehotline.org
You don’t have to live this way forever. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing to deserve it. And one day, you will find someone that is waiting to love you.