In The Dying Of The Light

Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been fascinated with the supernatural. Always against the natural order of things and never one to bow down to authority at a moment’s notice. I’ve had a rebellious streak in me since I was a kid and I still sorta do albeit in a more demure and controlled manner. If it weren’t for my fundamentalist upbringing, I’d probably be insane and out doing crazy shit.

My parents grew up as Catholics and when they transferred to the Bible Belt of the United States, they converted to Southern Baptist. My life was a shit show. Thirteen years of my life I went every day to a school that taught Christ-centered curriculum when the faculty themselves lacked any sort of Christ-centeredness about them. Hypocrisy in the Christian church is what turned me off to religion and going to Sunday morning services.

Call it apostasy. Call it whatever. I’m calling it as I have observed and seen from all the crap that I’ve experienced. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of having to feel guilty all the time and shunned and put down because of the how I see life differently than the rest of everyone else. I believe in the magical not only because of an overactive and unquenched imagination but also the desire to be in control of my life and not letting it be dictated by others.

I feel much more welcome out in nature than a church that judges the fuck out of you. 

I couldn’t wait for the day that I’d be done with Sunday school services and having to take the bus every morning to church. It felt routine, uncomfortable, and fake. I didn’t want to be there and no one really cared what happened to you so long as you were present and somehow managed to act like you were one of the Christians.

Funny how I noticed that a lot of the “Sunday school bus kids” were a lot of the lower household income kids that were segregated from the “White-privileged preacher kids” that sat in the shiny, new church auditorium. I could tell how the White preacher kids looked at the mixed ethnicities of Sunday school bus kids. It was disheartening.

I realize now as an adult that the environment I grew up in was damaging to my psyche and my mental health. In the middle of college I developed depression and I’m struggling with it as we speak. I’m not seeing a counselor (though I did when I was still in college) and I’m not on any meds.

It’s difficult dealing with this sort of thing when you can’t vocalize your opinions or concerns to your own parents who would just tell you to “deal with it.”

I’ve heard my parents say before that they would listen to me, but all they could say was “pray, forget about it, and deal with it.” LMAO what the fuck?

Maybe my choice in following an alternative spiritual path comes from the backlash I felt from being in a judgmental, unloving environment. Maybe I want to satiate my inner rebelliousness. Everything about that church-school messed me up and I’m still trying to break away from the chains that bind me.

 

 

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One thought on “In The Dying Of The Light

  1. I can see so much of my own experience in your words. I know for me it’s a constant struggle to try and separate the damaging mindsets that were instilled in me, and then carefully discard those mindsets without doing anymore harm to my psyche. On the surface, it would appear easy to just discard those past experiences, but I believe it’s helpful to absorb and learn from them. Great post 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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