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Religious Abuse... Damned to Hell
“The end was contained in the beginning. But it was frightening; or, more exactly, it was like a foretaste of death, like being a little less alive.”
--George Orwell, 1984.
This is what I thought of when I read that 59% of Americans believe in hell. (That’s from a 2009 poll by The Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. A Fox News poll puts the figure at 74%!)
It struck me that this is a serious political issue, as well as one of children’s rights, and one that needs to be understood in the light of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD.
What exactly does it mean that the majority of folks in my country actually believe that they face the possibility of being tossed into a lake of burning hellfire at the end of their lives, where they would experience the excruciating symptoms of being burned alive for eternity? What does it mean that the majority of folks in my country believe that the universe is governed by a tyrannical despot capable of devising this form of torture for beings that he has created and then tempted into damnation?
Honestly, I can’t even imagine taking these propositions seriously. I can’t even imagine going through a day with the possibility of an invisible judge breaking my arm at midnight for some potential trangression on my part I may have even inadvertently committed during the day. I can’t imagine waking up in the morning and looking out the window on a beautiful day, realizing that somewhere beyond the green hills and clouds lies a sulfurous penal colony filled with the screams of the damned—some of them my family and friends!—and knowing that there is a great creator who takes equal proprietary pride in this nightmare underworld. I can’t imagine wishing such a retaliatory, over-kill horror on even a known predator. How do any of these believers—these one-out-of-six of my fellow Americans—ever have a nice day?
Actually, I do know how they have a nice day. I know what it’s like to be completely dependent on a paternal co-creator and guardian who is grandiose, sadistic, and terrifying. I understand what it’s like to scramble to make sense out of a stream of incoherent, inconsistent edicts, because one’s survival requires an unquestioning faith in the madman who issued them. I live with the aftereffects of assuming a guilt that should never have been mine, as the only way to balance this unbalanced power equation. Fortunately, I was able to outgrow and outlive my perpetrator/human father. For fundamentalist believers in hell, there is no way out, and the post-traumatic adjustments that a child must make to accommodate the unthinkable must form a lifetime of disorders for fundamentalist believers, which then become codified into holy writ.
Belief in hell and its creator are profoundly traumatizing. They comprise an unacceptable ideology that must be accepted by the faithful. That, in a nutshell, is the definition of trauma: the unacceptable that must be accepted. And accepting the unacceptable is what causes Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD. And, as George Orwell so presciently put it, living with this kind of trauma is like “being a little less alive.”
How, specifically, might PTSD play out among the faithful? Let’s take a look at some of the syndromes:
1) Hypervigilance. Wikipedia defines this as “an enhanced state of sensory sensitivity accompanied by an exaggerated intensity of behaviors whose purpose is to detect threats. Hypervigilance is also accompanied by a state of increased anxiety which can cause exhaustion.”
My first thought is “How useful for the patriarchy!” How easy to sell doctrinal hellfire survivors on terrorist alerts, and especially when those terrorists are characterized as infidels. And for what exactly would the person with hellfire PTSD be so vigilantly scanning the environment? What are the perceived sources of threats to life—or, rather, to afterlife? Soldiers with PTSD are hypervigilant about being ambushed. Women and children who have been vicitimized are scanning for perpetrators and assailants. But what about these folks believing in hell? They must be eternally vigilant for temptation, erring on the side of paranoia.
Which brings us to a related symptom of PTSD:
My first thought is “How useful for the patriarchy!” How easy to sell doctrinal hellfire survivors on terrorist alerts, and especially when those terrorists are characterized as infidels. And for what exactly would the person with hellfire PTSD be so vigilantly scanning the environment? What are the perceived sources of threats to life—or, rather, to afterlife? Soldiers with PTSD are hypervigilant about being ambushed. Women and children who have been vicitimized are scanning for perpetrators and assailants. But what about these folks believing in hell? They must be eternally vigilant for temptation, erring on the side of paranoia.
Which brings us to a related symptom of PTSD:
2) Constriction
In an effort to minimize risk of retraumatization or reduce anxiety (see “hypervigilance” above), the survivor attempts to control her environment. She may restrict her activities, pass up opportunities that involve too many unknowns, avoid social contact. She will choose the unpleasant familiar over opportunities and changes that involve risk, however slight. Constriction refers to the narrowing of her experience that results from hypervigilent choices.
For anyone who sincerely believes in eternal damnation, avoiding this punishment must obviously be a top priority. There must be diligent, ongoing attention to the maintenance of a reassuring balance of goodness in one’s moral bank account. Constriction, in this instance, would be the result of avoiding any activity that might incur debt in that account, however unintentional. And here we have an explanation for religions that ban dancing or theatre, as well as a rationale for rigid gender roles and brutal child-raising practicies.
But constriction for the faithful goes beyond that. The greatest temptation to sin lies in freethinking. The constricted thought of the orthodox is well documented, and the political dimensions of this constriction are chilling. Voting along church party lines could be interpreted as a form of constriction. Black-and-white thinking with good-versus-evil moral codes may keep one out of hell in an afterlife, but they are set-ups for fascist propaganda that leads to the creation of hell on earth. Which, sadly, is still a preferable option, and possibly one that provides a measure of catharsis… which we’ll get to later.
In an effort to minimize risk of retraumatization or reduce anxiety (see “hypervigilance” above), the survivor attempts to control her environment. She may restrict her activities, pass up opportunities that involve too many unknowns, avoid social contact. She will choose the unpleasant familiar over opportunities and changes that involve risk, however slight. Constriction refers to the narrowing of her experience that results from hypervigilent choices.
For anyone who sincerely believes in eternal damnation, avoiding this punishment must obviously be a top priority. There must be diligent, ongoing attention to the maintenance of a reassuring balance of goodness in one’s moral bank account. Constriction, in this instance, would be the result of avoiding any activity that might incur debt in that account, however unintentional. And here we have an explanation for religions that ban dancing or theatre, as well as a rationale for rigid gender roles and brutal child-raising practicies.
But constriction for the faithful goes beyond that. The greatest temptation to sin lies in freethinking. The constricted thought of the orthodox is well documented, and the political dimensions of this constriction are chilling. Voting along church party lines could be interpreted as a form of constriction. Black-and-white thinking with good-versus-evil moral codes may keep one out of hell in an afterlife, but they are set-ups for fascist propaganda that leads to the creation of hell on earth. Which, sadly, is still a preferable option, and possibly one that provides a measure of catharsis… which we’ll get to later.
My point here is this: PTSD is a neurophysiological phenomenon, tied specifically to survival. The brain switches into a different mode of functioning when confronted with trauma, or when dealing with the aftereffects of trauma. The amygdala, which is the more primitive part of the brain (sometimes referred to as the “reptilian brain” because of its early evolution) is the command center for meeting survival needs. The cortex, the more recently evolved part of the mammalian brain, deals with logic and reason. According to research, the connections from the cortical areas to the amygdala are much weaker than the connections from the amygdala to the cortex. What this means is that the reptile brain can and does trump the cortex. When triggered by PTSD, the amygdala begins to take control (because it believes survival is at stake), sending impulses that bypass the cortex and also overriding signals from the cortex. In other words, there’s no reasoning with folks if their agenda is a response to trauma. What started out as an evolutionary advantage for the species may well turn out to be the mechanism of our extinction via Armageddon.
Teaching people to believe in hell is diabolically ingenious. It can wire them for active PTSD for their adult lives. It impairs their capacity for logical thinking. And, of course, indoctrinating (traumatizing) children with this belief before they are able to think for themselves is ridiculously easy for adults, especially if they are the parents.
Let’s look at a third syndrome associated with PTSD:
3) Dissociation
Dissociation refers to “partial or complete disruption of the normal integration of a person’s conscious or psychological functioning.” This occurs when the mind is desperate to distance itself from an experience that is too much to process… like, say, the thought of being burned alive for eternity by one’s own creator.
Dissociation can take various forms. One can feel outside one’s own body or experience (depersonalization), or disconnected from one’s surroundings (derealization). One can become numb or forgetful. And here’s an arresting bit of information from a study on maternal PTSD: Adult dissociation when coupled with a history of child abuse and PTSD can contribute to disturbances in parenting behavior, such as exposure of young children to violent media. Could this explain how adults terrorized by their own indoctrination into eternal damnation feel justified in imposing it on their children? Is sending their kids to Sunday school actually a post-traumatic compulsion?
Let’s take a closer look at depersonalization and derealization.
Depersonalization, defined as the subjective experience of unreality in one’s sense of self, can be a relief. In fact, depersonalization is the desired outcome of many recreational drugs. In the face of a terrifyingly unjust cosmos, depersonalization could lead to abdication of personal responsibility for one’s fate… and all that would follow from that. What constitutes moral idiocy or criminal insanity in a universe manifesting premeditated cruelty and injustice?
In fact, the entire notion of sin stems from a kind of universal depersonalization. The notion of sinners does not take into account the effects of organic brain damage, the disease model of addiction, and a host of research into trauma and its effects, especially on children. People who sin are simply bad, deserving of lakes of fire.
Derealization, a state of dissociation in which the outside world is experienced as unreal, is even scarier. And here, I believe, we have the explanation for the Rapture. Some Christians actually advocate acceleration of the destruction of the environment, because, according to their ideology, the end of the world will bring all them that must closer to the Rapture, when the true believers will be united with their savior. Traumatic beliefs about hell can result in brutal indifference to beings and worlds that are seen as existing apart from ideologies of salvation. Gays, lesbians, and transgender offspring of evangelical families can testify to the stunning cruelty of this dynamic.
Here’s the fourth syndrome:
Teaching people to believe in hell is diabolically ingenious. It can wire them for active PTSD for their adult lives. It impairs their capacity for logical thinking. And, of course, indoctrinating (traumatizing) children with this belief before they are able to think for themselves is ridiculously easy for adults, especially if they are the parents.
Let’s look at a third syndrome associated with PTSD:
3) Dissociation
Dissociation refers to “partial or complete disruption of the normal integration of a person’s conscious or psychological functioning.” This occurs when the mind is desperate to distance itself from an experience that is too much to process… like, say, the thought of being burned alive for eternity by one’s own creator.
Dissociation can take various forms. One can feel outside one’s own body or experience (depersonalization), or disconnected from one’s surroundings (derealization). One can become numb or forgetful. And here’s an arresting bit of information from a study on maternal PTSD: Adult dissociation when coupled with a history of child abuse and PTSD can contribute to disturbances in parenting behavior, such as exposure of young children to violent media. Could this explain how adults terrorized by their own indoctrination into eternal damnation feel justified in imposing it on their children? Is sending their kids to Sunday school actually a post-traumatic compulsion?
Let’s take a closer look at depersonalization and derealization.
Depersonalization, defined as the subjective experience of unreality in one’s sense of self, can be a relief. In fact, depersonalization is the desired outcome of many recreational drugs. In the face of a terrifyingly unjust cosmos, depersonalization could lead to abdication of personal responsibility for one’s fate… and all that would follow from that. What constitutes moral idiocy or criminal insanity in a universe manifesting premeditated cruelty and injustice?
In fact, the entire notion of sin stems from a kind of universal depersonalization. The notion of sinners does not take into account the effects of organic brain damage, the disease model of addiction, and a host of research into trauma and its effects, especially on children. People who sin are simply bad, deserving of lakes of fire.
Derealization, a state of dissociation in which the outside world is experienced as unreal, is even scarier. And here, I believe, we have the explanation for the Rapture. Some Christians actually advocate acceleration of the destruction of the environment, because, according to their ideology, the end of the world will bring all them that must closer to the Rapture, when the true believers will be united with their savior. Traumatic beliefs about hell can result in brutal indifference to beings and worlds that are seen as existing apart from ideologies of salvation. Gays, lesbians, and transgender offspring of evangelical families can testify to the stunning cruelty of this dynamic.
Here’s the fourth syndrome:
4) Freezing, or immobility
This is about helplessness. This is a survival instinct that kicks in when flight or fight are not options. In the freeze response, the body is flooded with the same neuroendocrines as during fight-or-flight; it’s just that there is not the discharge that occurs with fighting or fleeing. This can set the stage for something called “dysregulation,” where the energy mobilized by the perceived threat gets trapped in the nervous system by the freeze.
Dysregulation means the body holds onto stress and has trouble letting go, with the result that the trauma survivor feels both wired and exhausted at the same time. In lay terms, the body’s transmission has broken down. The person suffering from dysregulation has difficulty shifting from high arousal to low arousal, shifting back to neutral, or into states of joy or contentment. Chronic anxiety and depression are states of dysregulation, and dysregulation can result in religious obsessions… or traumatic re-enactment.
This is about helplessness. This is a survival instinct that kicks in when flight or fight are not options. In the freeze response, the body is flooded with the same neuroendocrines as during fight-or-flight; it’s just that there is not the discharge that occurs with fighting or fleeing. This can set the stage for something called “dysregulation,” where the energy mobilized by the perceived threat gets trapped in the nervous system by the freeze.
Dysregulation means the body holds onto stress and has trouble letting go, with the result that the trauma survivor feels both wired and exhausted at the same time. In lay terms, the body’s transmission has broken down. The person suffering from dysregulation has difficulty shifting from high arousal to low arousal, shifting back to neutral, or into states of joy or contentment. Chronic anxiety and depression are states of dysregulation, and dysregulation can result in religious obsessions… or traumatic re-enactment.
5) Compulsion to re-enact
This compulsive seeking-out of situations that resemble the trauma is usually not conscious. It’s an attempt to gain closure, and may provide a temporary sense of mastery or even pleasure, but ultimately it perpetuates chronic feelings of helplessness and a subjective sense of being bad and out-of-control… which feed the compulsion to re-enact, setting up a vicious circle that, without intervention, is likely to end in tragedy.
How might this work when the PTSD derives from a traumatic ideological belief in an eternity of hellfire? Okay, this is pure speculation on my part, but might the re-enactment compulsion take the form of creating rigidly hierarchical, patriarchal structures that replicate imagined scenarios of Judgment Day? Or waging wars against infidels to project an overwhelming fear of sinfulness onto some “other” who can then be appropriately punished (exorcised)… and the more fiery the punishment the better? Are the infernal weapons of modern warfare some subconscious attempt to gain godlike control over the dreaded hellfire?
The fact is that belief in a literal hell, however ludicrous to us non-believers, constitutes a traumatizing belief. Spending one’s life attempting to appease a tyrannical and fickle creator/destroyer who insists on being worshipped as a loving father is also profoundly traumatic, and especially if it dovetails with one’s experience of an abusive parent. PTSD, as we know, compounds.
What does it take to confront and heal PTSD? Usually some kind of intervention, because of the way the amygdala operates. The person with PTSD has a brain that is insisting on external causes (temptation, sin, etc.). Out of touch with the logic and reason of the cortex, this part of the brain lacks the capacity to examine its own process. Just as alcoholism is referred to as “the disease that insists it’s not a disease,” PTSD is the syndrome that insists it’s not a syndrome.
Unfortunately, these hellfire believers are highly organized and their churches are deeply involved in the funding of political parties… which means influencing or even dictating the party platforms. They are well beyond appeals to logic.
Is there any form of intervention at this point that might be effective against this army of believers hell-bent to not be hell-bent?
I think there is, and I think the key is children’s rights. Children have a right to grow up free to develop their own relationship to the world and to the energies of creation. They have a right to grow up free from religious doctrines teaching intolerance and terror. Research shows that fundamentalist teachings about same-sex orientation lead LGBT youth to suicidal ideation and self-harm.
Unfortunately children do not have political clout. They will never have their own party, or even their own PAC. They are the most universally exploited population on the planet. There was a national database for stolen cars years before there was one for abducted children. Certainly, an initiative defending their rights to spiritual self-determination would be daunting. Daunting, but effective. As lesbian-feminists, we can begin in our own communities, wherever churches are in coalition with other organizations. We can begin by including it in our own analyses, making it part of any human rights platform. We can make sure that it’s articulated when we work on anti-bullying campaigns. We can educate people that religious freedom does not include the right to spiritually abuse.
And in doing this work, we can also take the opportunity to look at our own beliefs about an afterlife. Is our end also contained in our beginning? Personally, I find purpose, peace and morality in an observation made by feminist sociologist and novelist Charlotte Perkins Gilman:
“Eternity is not something that begins after you are dead. It is going on all the time.”
This compulsive seeking-out of situations that resemble the trauma is usually not conscious. It’s an attempt to gain closure, and may provide a temporary sense of mastery or even pleasure, but ultimately it perpetuates chronic feelings of helplessness and a subjective sense of being bad and out-of-control… which feed the compulsion to re-enact, setting up a vicious circle that, without intervention, is likely to end in tragedy.
How might this work when the PTSD derives from a traumatic ideological belief in an eternity of hellfire? Okay, this is pure speculation on my part, but might the re-enactment compulsion take the form of creating rigidly hierarchical, patriarchal structures that replicate imagined scenarios of Judgment Day? Or waging wars against infidels to project an overwhelming fear of sinfulness onto some “other” who can then be appropriately punished (exorcised)… and the more fiery the punishment the better? Are the infernal weapons of modern warfare some subconscious attempt to gain godlike control over the dreaded hellfire?
The fact is that belief in a literal hell, however ludicrous to us non-believers, constitutes a traumatizing belief. Spending one’s life attempting to appease a tyrannical and fickle creator/destroyer who insists on being worshipped as a loving father is also profoundly traumatic, and especially if it dovetails with one’s experience of an abusive parent. PTSD, as we know, compounds.
What does it take to confront and heal PTSD? Usually some kind of intervention, because of the way the amygdala operates. The person with PTSD has a brain that is insisting on external causes (temptation, sin, etc.). Out of touch with the logic and reason of the cortex, this part of the brain lacks the capacity to examine its own process. Just as alcoholism is referred to as “the disease that insists it’s not a disease,” PTSD is the syndrome that insists it’s not a syndrome.
Unfortunately, these hellfire believers are highly organized and their churches are deeply involved in the funding of political parties… which means influencing or even dictating the party platforms. They are well beyond appeals to logic.
Is there any form of intervention at this point that might be effective against this army of believers hell-bent to not be hell-bent?
I think there is, and I think the key is children’s rights. Children have a right to grow up free to develop their own relationship to the world and to the energies of creation. They have a right to grow up free from religious doctrines teaching intolerance and terror. Research shows that fundamentalist teachings about same-sex orientation lead LGBT youth to suicidal ideation and self-harm.
Unfortunately children do not have political clout. They will never have their own party, or even their own PAC. They are the most universally exploited population on the planet. There was a national database for stolen cars years before there was one for abducted children. Certainly, an initiative defending their rights to spiritual self-determination would be daunting. Daunting, but effective. As lesbian-feminists, we can begin in our own communities, wherever churches are in coalition with other organizations. We can begin by including it in our own analyses, making it part of any human rights platform. We can make sure that it’s articulated when we work on anti-bullying campaigns. We can educate people that religious freedom does not include the right to spiritually abuse.
And in doing this work, we can also take the opportunity to look at our own beliefs about an afterlife. Is our end also contained in our beginning? Personally, I find purpose, peace and morality in an observation made by feminist sociologist and novelist Charlotte Perkins Gilman:
“Eternity is not something that begins after you are dead. It is going on all the time.”
Kids don't become traumatized by reading about hell in the Bible (where, really, it's not much of a thing). They become traumatized because the rest of society insists that they are the "other people" hell happens to. If it didn't work that way, straight cisgender kids would be just as prone to religious PTSD as LGBT kids.
Also ...
<i>Children have a right to grow up free to develop their own relationship to the world and to the energies of creation. They have a right to grow up free from religious doctrines teaching intolerance and terror.</i>
Part of me is in complete agreement with this. The other part remembers that "kids' rights" can cut both ways. If atheists like me can say that certain commonly accepted religious beliefs amount to child abuse, then believers can say that damning a child's soul to hell by not teaching them about Jesus is child abuse.
And the believers are the ones with all the power.
Spiritual abuse is real, and I want to be sympathetic; I do. I've known other survivors of spiritual abuse who have struggled to put their lives back together after the tyranny of certain organized religions and religious leaders. But perhaps you need to find another term for your issues with hell because even mentally healthy people are going to struggle with you calling it ptsd.
I understand your perspective... or at least I think I do. I was raised with violence in the home. And... I work a lot on issues surrounding LGBT child suicides, and the belief in hell as a punishment for being queer can be as terrifying as getting beat up for poor grades. Lack of sleep, eating disorders, panic attacks, intrusive memories, living utterly dissociated lives... In other words, PTSD.
My PTSD was also compounded by other trauma, but I feel like I'm stuck in an actual hell right now. I have panic disorder and depression as well. For a long time I thought these feelings were due to my sinfulness and were proof I WAS going to hell. If I was a good person I would be feeling good, right.
I feel like my nervous system is completely shot. I have all the symptoms you describe.
Just want to add for people like Grace that there are incredibly effective and very accessible, "fast acting" energy therapies that are used to eliminate PTSD. EFT, or emotional freedom technique, is one of the most well known and maybe the safest, because a bad therapist (there are so many) can't do such great damage if they are clueless or malicious. And you can also do it for yourself, even through learning it online. There's no reason to live with PTSD with these affordable/free/safe tools available!
Oh and ps, Carolyn, not to take away from brilliance of analysis but I think you meant 6 in 10. I personally was surprised it was less than 60%. I would have guessed 3 in 4. But I bet improvement compared to the past.
Adriene - the movie you mentioned was it called A Thief in the Night, made in the 70's? I saw that movie as a six year old and to this day I do not like the 70's fashion or other imagery associated with that movie. Horribly traumatic for a child, my church also taught that thr rapture would happen just like in that movie. Anytime I could not immediately find my parents I got scared that I had been left behind. I am not against all religion but when they are extremist in their teachings is when it is bad news.
Trauma is something that happens inside you. If two people stub their toes, and one's toe breaks and the other doesn't; that person has a broken toe. A toe doesn't care if it broke in a car accident, a plane accident, or by being stubbed against a bed. A break is a break, and it's determined with an x-ray. The doctor doesn't ask you, "How did the injury happen?" and then send you away because "that's not a broken toe, I can tell because of what happened." No, he must diagnose the broken toe.
Or another analogy; if you get a nail in your tire, you don't fuss about where the nail came from. You just get the tire fixed.
Your steps are to get help with your trauma; making sure that you get a trauma therapist. If you cannot do that, please get the book Complex PTSD, From Surviving to Thriving, by Pete Walker. That's the best "second choice" if you can't find a good trauma recovery therapist who knows that religious trauma syndrome is a real thing.
But in the meantime, please don't minimize your trauma. Trauma is the thing that happens inside of you, it's not the severity of the event that caused it. If you're traumatized, you're traumatized. If your leg is broken, it's broken.
I wish you all the best in life. Take care of yourself. Despite what you've been taught, you matter. Your feelings are valid. Your needs are valid. You are valid.
It's not at the assertion that you made, because you can't make it. If you have anything better than a self-referential circle jerk of horribly translated ravings collected over thousands of years, carefully refined and curated to instill hopelessness only to supply a solution to the problem it just made up, then please cite it because I'd be interested in seeing it. (Hint: I just described the bible. That's an interesting collection of myth, folklore, and terror, but it's not credible).
What is real is the effect of telling children that sometimes unending knowledge, mercy, and love is not enough to save that same all-knowing, all-merciful, and all-loving entity from creating a place of eternal torture, creating imperfect beings (original sin, you know), then putting those imperfect beings into eternal torture.
That's disappointing. Knowing that I have to share the earth with such foolishness disappoints me greatly.
I’ve also battled a porn addiction for many many years, sorry if this is an overshare, but it also feeds into my PTSD. I keep doing my own “life review” almost daily and drowning in shame and guilt.
At this point, I am a second year medical resident. I see people suffering and dying and I can’t stand not knowing what happens. I know it’s illogical for me to entertain ideas that have zero basis in reality, but they seem impossible to turn off.
First I'd like to say that even though I don't think you grew up in evangelical Christianity, you have done a great job elucidating how that affects one, and you've done so with so much empathy and obviously rigorous attempt at putting yourself into our shoes. So thank you.
I grew up with a fear of hell that was instilled in toddler years. I was taught about hell and helped to "ask Jesus in my heart" at four. I remember my "conversion" in detail. I was exposed to content put out by Child Evangelism Fellowship which ran "5 Day Clubs" in neighborhoods, out of people's homes, in the 80s. I was 4 in 1981 and my family hosted one of these 5-Day Clubs and I was listening. I remember the FEELING of, "Oh. I didn't know I was bad. I thought I was a good girl." I remember the DISMAY I felt at finding out that Jesus was tortured to death for MY sins and would have undergone such a death even if I was the only person alive. I felt deep shame that I was that bad. I was terrified by the concept of hell. I had little exposure to fire, but enough to know that eternal conscious torment in a lake of fire was unfathomably terrifying. But I was also terrified by something I think most people don't understand: the prospect of being separated from my parents for all eternity, as well as God. At 4, the idea of separation from all of your attachment figures is a kind of terror that can't be quantified. And to be made RESPONSIBLE for that is....I don't have words. I'm looking for the words. I need the words. I'm crying as I type that. And another level of the harm is that I knew my parents would agree that I deserved that; they are the ones who told me that I was that bad/sinful. My salvation was only ever comforting right after I said the sinner's prayer. But of course I said it thousands of times over the course of my childhood. I needed to make sure I "meant" it, and this of course meant different things at different developmental stages. All of this is attachment trauma. Constant, unrelenting attachment trauma.
I explain this by comparing it to a 4-year-old being taken to a horror movie and cautioned that they need to repeat a little rhyme and "mean it" if they are to avoid the occurrences of the horror movie happening to them. And in fact, I was shown a movie that was essentially a horror movie at that same age. For a number of weeks our church showed a segment of an awful movie called, "A Thief in the Night," that was an early interaction of the "Left Behind" content. It was about the "End Times" and included a scene I can remember vividly where people just disappeared suddenly, leaving cars unmanned, electric razors buzzing on countertops, and family members frantically trying to find their raptured family members. Another scene etched into my memory was of a bloody guillotine where Christians were beheaded for their refusal to deny Jesus Christ in the face of persecution by the government. They didn't show a head being lopped off, but they showed everything but and there were matching noises of the blade falling, something falling into a basket (if memory serves) and the reactions of others. CHILDREN were in this scene and it was implied that they took would undergo beheading. These concepts were terrorizing. And the worst thing was that, again, the responsibility for handling this was mine and mine alone. The solution to the problem was that I be saved. And being saved was my responsibility.
This week I learned some new terms in my research that I'd like to pass along to anyone else who stumbles upon this post and is in some way invested in understanding the experience of someone like me. One term is hermeneutical injustice. It's a term coined by Miranda Fricker and is a type of epistemic injustice. These are words to describe the experience of not having words for one's experience. Just having these terms is healing me all by itself. As Wittgenstein said (in 1922!), "“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” I can and do appreciate therapy, but without the right words, so much of my experience has been invisible. "Illegitimate grief" as I've called it elsewhere.
There is so much I could say about this. I'd love to dialogue about this more. I'm working on an writing project myself and conversations like this are so helpful.