Being 'Mental'...Part Of Faulty Chemistry Or Are The IFB Correct?

                       

, If you were to look at several photographs from my childhood, you would sometimes see a girl with a face that reflects dark emotions: a mix of sadness, flatness, empty of spirit and purpose. 

I've had several counselors, psychologists and doctors, ask me when did I first feel depressed? I tell them that I cannot ever remember feeling not depressed. I suppose there were times of happiness, I'm sure there were but the feelings of depression were always close by.

The research seems to point to chemical imbalances within the brain. Sometimes these are triggered by a trauma but in my case, I think it's been hereditarily passed on.  I may have mentioned how my mother was suffering from mental illness. A lot of it worsened with her oncoming dementia which overtook her in her elderly years but before that, when I was very young, I remember her acting erratically, paranoid and I sensed that there was something 'off.'  

My father, I am sure had some sort of anxiety disorder. He was constantly uneasy, on edge, abusive and controlling. His mother, the only grandmother I ever knew, was suspicious and irritable yet she didn't seem to have the same percentage of angst.

They say children learn what they live. It's absolutely true. I am sure that I felt much negativity due to the atmosphere at home. If that is how I grew up, it stands to reason that my moods would be negative. My dependency on people (a learned behavior-my mother was terribly over-protective)and feeling stigmatized by the 'normal' people outside of my family taught me to withdraw into a shell.

  I still prefer the shell. I am able though, to put on my sociable self and mix when needed, however that is not something I usually choose to do. Invite me over your friends' house and I will have anxiety attacks until the visit is over.

Why bring all this up? Because so many of us in my family have real stability problems. Some, I know is learned, traumatic ...yet, some must be inherited. 

When I was part of the IFB cult, I was taught that mental illness is always caused by:

1. Sin in my life, or
2. The Devil

There was never an in-between.

 Now, I have to say that after my second marriage, when I was first converted, I was quite happy.  I had a peace about me that could only have come from knowing my burdens were carried by Jesus and He blessed me in many ways.

The problems arose later when I realized that there was a strong faction of men within the church who were involved in less than godly behavior. That was years after my conversion, as I matured in my faith.  I believe when you grow in faith, God opens your eyes a little more to strengthen you . The more trouble I experienced, the closer I clung to His word.

When my ex-husband became a pastor and then began to little-by-little become a controlling deviant, there was no doubt, I swallowed much of my sensibility. I became an automaton. A praying, obedient-to-my husband, automaton .

Eventually, the old shadow of depression came back over me. I kept begging God to show me what to do. To make my husband more attentive. To help us with our home. The crying continued secretly, for years. I knew that if I thought there was something wrong with my mind or that I blamed my then husband, I would be accused of being unfaithful to the Lord or possibly demonically possessed. So, I blamed myself. I kept my feelings repressed...hidden-and waited.

One of the things I had to come to an understanding of in my process of recovery, was the knowledge that God was forcing me unto another path. I wasn't supposed to be boxed-up in some megalomaniac's dream. I was supposed to follow a simple plan. It had nothing to do with control or a man's power over me. It had to do with breaking free, acceptance and the love and understanding of a good man .

Depression is still in the shadows. My life is far better now then how it was just a few years ago. Sanity, I found, is an understanding of insanity. The knowledge that sometimes, the Lord gives us a heaviness in our heart that will always haunt...always crouch in the dark. Acknowledging that I have a 'mental' problem has helped me to deal with resources for recovery. Counseling and medication, education...yes, and prayer! I see these now as helpful ways to heal that God has made available to me.

It's no wonder that there are so many sick-minded people filling the pews in IFB churches. God is trying to show freedom and yet, those involved in IFB thinking are full of imprisonment. If you weren't sick when you joined up, you would be in time.

Now that I understand that the way I am is not a lack of godliness or some demonic scam to control me, I can recognize that I am a fallible human being. A woman who is able to see my past as a series of misunderstandings, mistakes and vulnerabilities but is learning to forgive herself as God has forgiven me. The trauma I have felt, the pain I still deal with at times are all part of who I am. It is also what keeps me close to my Lord.

Memories Triggered About Homeschool

I want to take a moment and say for the record that I am not against homeschool. I think if a  parent feels they can do the job and the child is progressing, then everybody is happy. It is when a parent is put under much pressure to do the job by her church, her husband and the 'Christian homeschool community' that it becomes a prescription for disaster. 

I've been reading a book recommended by an online friend called 'I Fired God.' by Jocelyn R. Zichterman.
It's an interesting account of a woman who grows up in an IFB home and marries an IFB educator.
I'm not done with the book yet. My time is limited....BUT, I can certainly say that her accounts of abuses, people whose philosophy she followed and types of extremes she lived under, are all things I can relate to a great deal.

I just finished the chapter about her homeschooling with her children. The books she ordered and the curriculum she used was ALOT like what I tried with my children. Her story made me remember how inept I had felt, how I started making excuses about why my kids were having difficulties and the lies that caused resentment toward my ex-husband.


I was thrown in to the homeschool world in the late 1980's. My older daughter was pulled out of middle school when there was some question about what she was being taught in a family living class. Just like that, one day, after school had dismissed for the summer, I was told by my then husband that I HAD to pull her out of school so she would not be corrupted by the world. Eventually, her younger sister would also become a homeschooled child.

I was in a state of panic but my several years of IFB training taught me not to argue but to submit totally to my husband's wishes. After much prayer I started to look into curriculums. I threw together what I could and at the time, Mike did help (if you want to call it that) by forcing them to listen to his loooong, drawn out lectures Eventually, the teaching became my job...my sole job.

As the additional children came along, the homeschooling expanded. I became a bit more knowlegable of how education at home-the IFB way- was to happen. I pored over workbooks and old textbooks that would employ the least modern way to learn. I went from catalogue to book sales and even tried some outside resources.

My oldest, Missy, had the opportunity to graduate out of a Christian high school and move on to art school . However, the challenge was just beginning for the rest of them. I was reminded again and again that homeschool was the only way I could really be right with God, from the pulpit and at home. At this point, I surrendered willingly to the idea that I would always have to do this and so I tried hard to make the most of it.

I had two things going against me in this never-ending project: my now ex-husband Mike and my inability to get past the burn-out I was feeling. I would very often have all the children seated after breakfast, we'd start our lesson,s then Mike would come in and start pulling kids from the table to help him work. My son and his younger sister seemed to be the ones who were pulled day after day. When I protested, Mike would tell me to pack up their schoolwork for them and he would oversee their studies in-between landscaping. THAT never happened.

My children began to officially struggle and I felt helpless and trapped in a no-win cycle. I began to dread homeschooling my children. I knew it would take increasing amounts of the energy I lacked. I wanted to hide and not feel guilty about it.

That is one of the most anguishing feelings I had. I knew I was failing the whole teaching thing yet my depression began to keep me from functioning. It was hard to keep the house clean and orderly. The kids weren't learning much and when we were public, Mike would take credit for what little they did know.

Looking back now I think maybe that was the moment of awakening...hearing him tell people how great we were doing and how we successfully homeschooled all our children. What a lie!
The guilt I carry for somehow opening the door to this type of life is something that haunts me. I know that I was programmed by the church and by my ex-husband. I know I began to shut down emotionally. I felt used and I was depressed. My children and I have paid dearly . I know I should be angry...There is a part of me that seethes deep down but at present I am at a loss to reach down and pull it forth.

I am eternally grateful though that that part of my life is over. I strive to put it behind me but it isn't easy.

A Belated Witness To A Tragic Loss Of Innocence

  There is a brokeness I feel as a mother because I was so terribly blinded to so many things. I know...it's not my fault, I didn't know all the dangers surrounding my children. I thought for so long that I was the 'good mother.' I thought that I was doing all the right things...but my failures to see objectively the problems that the IFB had caused and the lifestyle spawned from that ideology, well....what can I say except that hindsight is 20/20?

I was doing alright. I managed to move through the days still rebuilding, still struggling BUT moving forward...even if ever so slowly. At times, I almost feel like a 'normal' person and can enjoy who I am. Then, there are those times when a past problem catches up to you and you are barraged with memories and feelings of guilt and confusion. All of the sudden, the candle is blown out and you feel like you are groping in the dark once again.

This happened to me today.

I spoke with someone that was very close to me today. I won't say who as she may be embarrassed or offended that I would write about this conversation. I don't know if she will ever read this blog, yet I want to insure her privacy.

This young woman started recounting her first time as a molestation victim. She was only about 12.

I listened earnestly, trying to understand how it is that grown men can be so sick...so wicked.

The young woman discussed how this awful situation ended up lasting a very long time....maybe 2 years? How she was introduced to alcohol and drugs and very soon learned to numb herself so as to be able to cope with her nightmares day to day.

Her parents had no idea what was causing the changes in her personality. Her mother knew something was wrong...but what?
No one would say anything...there was a sense of estrangement but no details ...no confrontations.

Years had passed and the woman always searched for the father figure she lacked in her own life. The romantic interests in her life were all older men...much older. Her father you see, was also leading a double life it seemed and she couldn't talk to him.

The father of this girl spent many hours away from home. When he was home, he ignored her and she soon felt as if she were nothing. Her greatest fear was that if he found out what had been going on, she would be blamed and called a whore or a slut.

I cringed with each moment recounted because I knew that healing had to begin by her purging the poison and having a witness to that purge. I was that witness and I felt both saddened and hopeful . Hopeful because I rejoiced in this young woman's ability to confront her demons, yet sad that her mother was not able to see the dangers engulfing her young daughter's life. The mother might have been able to save her from the torment she went through if she could have only KNOWN!

I was remembering how hard it was for me as my children were growing up. I was doing all the work as the babies kept coming. I busied myself so much that I didn't see the dangers lurking in my own household. Before I knew it, it was too late and the corruption in the household had taken hold .

It took an act of God to get me to finally just to begin to see!
That is why I have not lost my faith in the Lord.
I sometimes feel like Joseph...sold into slavery yet being led carefully to a powerful position . He made a difference!

I pray I can do the same.

Some Places To Connect And Articles To Read

Religionscell Blog

In My Secret Garden

Sheldon's Story

Defeating Dragons

Darkness Of Child Sex Abuse

These blogs tell a common tale that must never be forgotten:

The IFB cult is scarcely Christian...

It is run amok with aggressively arrogant men who lack empathy and love for their neighbors and families.

Sure, these authors have been hurt. Some of them gave up on the whole idea of Jesus Christ along with the buildings and dogma they left behind.

I can understand this, I don't happen to subscribe to that thought. Many women, myself included, were ravaged over the years in what started out as seemingly good.

...We have a warning to give out and compassion for those still within

the belly of the dragon.

We still have an important story to tell.

Honesty Wins Over Fear

 A few years back, I had to go through a major change. I had to face my fears, start telling the truth and attack lies against me with pure honesty.

No, it wasn't easy.  There is something quite humbling about looking at my face in the mirror and realizing that until the truth is told, I would be held captive by my own conscience.
I took small steps toward that end. Confessing my faults to another, letting God take them for me.I had to leave behind the old way of dealing with things. I had to learn to step through the fear.

That is what this blog is all about. I'm sharing to improve. To tell the truth about my feelings as a survivor of spiritual, sexual and emotional abuse.As I share myself with you-the reader- I learn to let go of the sadness and the rage inside . Maybe I can encourage someone else...maybe not, all I know is that it has been healing for me.

One thing for sure, honesty IS the best policy. I can look my soul-mate in the eye and know that I can share my faults and my fears with him and even if he were to be angered or disgusted, I could still face what comes because truth is my ally.

What's the big deal with honesty? Well, when you get a taste of it , you realize you want more.Truth is beautiful!

I'm also bringing it up because it's important to understand that when a man is sick enough to rape or otherwise molest a child, he must shoulder the burden of his decision for the rest of his life.
When dealing with a narcisstic personality, truth is never good enough though. Something may make the offender look bad so he tries to cover it up. He tries to divide and manipulate, yet he never thinks of simply being truthful. This is all a part of the twisted world the offender lives in.

The other day, it was brought to my attention by two different family members, that my ex-husband and his bride had a baby.It was supposed to be a secret, yet the story began to trickle out. It wasn't bothersome to me that he remaried, and under different circumstances, having a baby would be a blessing, yet I am afraid of what will happen to their child. Will she also be abused?

These are the kinds of questions that I cannot answer. I can only hope for the best.
What also concerned me was that the man contacted some of my adult children and made them promise not to tell me or my youngest about the new arrival .
 Divide and conquer! You see, the attitude has not changed. The dwellers of the dark like corners with no light in them.
The offender's guilt causes him to run when no one pursues and to cover himself up with secrets and lies. If a man is in an honest, healthy relationship, would he not shout to the world that he has a new member of the family? Would he cower and worry about what I'm thinking?
Of course not.


The only thing I can say at this point is, I hope for his child's sake he will change his ways, come clean with his new wife and repent . The truth will set you free!

A Place To Check Out

Out Of Darkness, Into Light

Climbing Out Of The Hole

There are feelings that I get at the times I have to face my fears. The first is anxiety, then my defenses spring to action. Lastly, I summon my courage in order to face my fears. I learned in my recovery that the fastest way to rid myself of fears is to face them head-on and be honest with myself and others.

I admit that I hate to hear from people from my 'old life.' I feel that many were fair-weather friends. When my ex was busy defaming me, most of them jumped on the bandwagon it seemed.

There have been a few...very few...that took the time to contact me and apologize for siding against me. They offered their help and seemed sincere. May God bless them for that.

I am aware of some that look at me as a curiosity. Maybe they want to play as if they care but what they are really after is a good story! Some have no lives, so they want the dirty details.

I have decided that if anyone from my 'pastor's wife' days wants to talk to me, I will be friendly but guarded and give them a chance. However, I will not surround myself with people that are insincere. Surrounding myself with those who feel the urge to pry or those who have been known to get ugly in the past will no longer be allowed into my life. This is taking care of myself.

Whether the abuse is spiritual, emotional, physical or sexual, as you recover, it is essential to work on yourself a little everyday. Find what your comforted with. Meditate on your blessings and give God the burdens. Yes, it IS difficult but it will change you in time. It took years to learn a pattern of submission and how to live with abuse so there will be no easy transformation. You must consciously live your life day-to-day and resist the urge to settle into a half-life. If you don't take time for you and expend that energy on other pursuits, especially those that other people around you want you to do, you will become totally exhausted .

The first time I had a breakdown was when I was overworked and didn't have anyone to help me.
The second time I was teetering on the threshold of breakdown #2 was when again, I was overworked and pressured.  I was married to the pastor yet he refused to ever help me with anything. I was too intimidated to ask for help.  I have learned that self-care must take precedence. How can I be a 'good' anything without rest?

Such is the vicious circle of abuse. You are worn down by the abuser. You feel emptied, numb and hopeless. You then begin to ignore your own needs and abuse yourself . Then everything starts all over!

I cannot tell anyone what to do. All I can tell you is what seems to be working for me . There is no sin in loving yourself in order for you to climb out of the dark place you've been. Meditate on the good. Be grateful for the small things and always give yourself credit for trying.