May 3, 2011
There is a point in life where you wonder how things became the way you never expected them to be. In the church life was grand at first for me, after all it was a great escape from my previous life of promiscuity and self-hate. As a young adult Rick was unhappy to be home in our little desert town, he lived in Santa Monica with the pastor of our “mother church”. He was happy with the salty air and life of possibilities in the beautiful city, (college, career and success). He went to the school the church ran and he graduated with ambition to reach the sky. He rode his bike everywhere and worked at an awesome place, Koo Koo Roo. Life was his and he was going to live it, until he decided to come home. He had visions about what amazing things he could do but he never expected to be told that education was second to church obligations.
Once he started playing for worship service and eventually leading it, he slowly lost the support and ambition to seek out the career he wanted to. He was discouraged in every way- don’t seek an education in college. The goal was, get a job, almost any job, and pay your tithes. Church activities must be priority and if you’re not at outreach you were looked upon as if you did something wrong. Rick worked his butt off to attend apprenticeship courses, work and do his chores no matter what time he got home-no matter how tired he was. You see he moved straight in with the pastor of our church when he left Santa Monica and paid a good amount of rent. He went through a lot of scrutiny and petty disciplinary issues. Looking back he realized how difficult it was to wake up at three in the morning to go to work, having to drive two hours and spend eight hours working and on his way home he drove to his apprenticeship courses. He would then have to drive home just to make dinner for about seven people and wait up until everyone finished dinner, he was exhausted.
Rick was miserable and I became his escape as he did mine. He admits that although he had a rough time living there at the house he did learn so many positive and life lessons. We both did, we learned how to live and how not to live as well. During our attendance at the church I became miserable and began drinking before and during church-just like old times. I felt stuck in that place and so did Rick. There was this sense of manipulation in which the people in the church would make you feel absolutely “special and valuable” but they also knew how to make you feel worthless and easily replaceable… the pastor included. Rick was often praised for the good job he would do busting his ass then he was completely ridiculed for missing a church function because he had to work. He knew that he was easily replaceable and he was the lap-dog.
I found my way out of the miserable surge of church tragedies and deaths; I drank and put on a happy face. Everything I did for the church was discouraged by the “leaders” and their family members. Every strike of depression hit me and I was shut down, pushed away and talked about. A strike of depression hit me when I confided in the pastor in complete confidence and he found it “necessary” to share most of my family’s business with the “leaders” in the church.
I felt complete depression when I was pregnant with my son and dragged myself to church nine months pregnant and still groggy from Phenergan a medication to keep me from throwing up everything I consumed, even water. (I was on Phenergan my whole pregnancy.) I was miserable, I had nothing to wear and I felt depression like I hadn’t felt before. One morning prior to leaving to church I slipped on a pink sleeveless turtle-neck that hugged my belly tightly; I knew it looked cute and I actually felt somewhat confident. Feeling dizzy at church I walked to the back to get some water to soothe my nausea. I stopped to greet one of the leaders’ wives, a “friend” of our family; she proceeded to talk in a pleasant manner. But what she said next hit me hard and I remember the words sharply, “Your shirt is very tight and the brothers in the church might be distracted. There are men out there that are attracted to pregnant women.” After those words I don’t remember what else she said. I blocked every word she spoke out of my head; I was too distracted by the picture in my head. I pictured my fist plunging into the bitch’s face.
I continually felt complete depression after I had my son; I researched post-partum depression and knew I was suffering from it. However, I was told that Christians don’t get those types illnesses. I suffered through it terribly and had no one to talk to about what I was feeling… suicidal and distant from my beautiful baby.
Things in the church went on like this up until the day we left. Leaving the church was the best choice Rick and I ever made for our family. We have experienced so much, been through so much and learned so much. I believe we would have never had these opportunities to learn if we had stayed locked into that church. I believe we would have never experienced the events that would immediately follow leaving that church.
