I was raised in a highly religious Catholic environment - Catholic school every weekday, Catholic church services 3-4 times per week. As a kid I was sickly and was assured that my illnesses were a blessing and dead children get to go to heaven. I didn't have any aspirations because, why would I? I was going to die as a child anyway, and that was good. This led to things like disordered eating (God says that fasting is good so I'll do it all the time), self-harm (God says that suffering is good so I'll do it as much as I can), and constantly letting people take advantage of me (God says that doing things for others and giving things to others is good, so I'll do it as much as I can).
This isn't even going into the criminal activity. A well-respected priest repeatedly sexually assaulted one of my sister's friends. Her family is highly religious, and the area Bishop negotiated with them, getting them to not press charges and completely silence themselves so as not to scandalize the church. I was one of about 10 people who knew about it, and I was told to never tell anyone (Obviously I did but I never named any names.). The priest was never punished for this and continued to stalk her even when she went to college in another state.
After leaving highschool I was fucked up. I was disappointed that I was alive, and to make it worse I was actually getting healthier and stronger. I felt that I was becoming more "corrupted." Obviously getting healthier was a sign of that - being seriously ill was a gift, and suddenly it was snatched away from me. God was mad. I attempted suicide a few times but wasn't very good at it.
I studied microbiology at a prestigious university but eventually dropped out because all that studying was gettin' between me and Jesus.
I went to several therapists, all of them local (and therefore they knew who I was and what schools I had gone to, and used that as leverage.). They generally advised me to chat it out with Jesus, which made things worse.
Then I spent a couple of years studying engineering at a different university, but I hadn't gotten any better. It took a "friend" trying to rape me one day for me to finally get to see a therapist who didn't want to use religion as a tool to help me.
After several months of regular appointments with her I finally spilled the beans about my history with religion. By this point I had completely broken down: Even just looking at or walking inside of a church scared the shit out of me. I had nightmares every time I slept. I didn't want to believe in God anymore because it was destroying me, but I felt like that wasn't an option. She was the only one who ever told me that it was okay - in fact, she reassured me that I needed to abandon my religion for the sake of my sanity.
Last year I cried at my grandfather's funeral not because I was sad that he died (I was, but I saw it coming so it didn't have much of an impact.), but because I was so afraid of the church and the priest and the words that were being said.
Currently, I consider myself to be a staunch atheist. I have to be a staunch atheist. And I love every moment of it.
Religion is my abusive ex.
Edited by Suou, 07 July 2012 - 06:53 AM.
