I wrote this in January 2019 as an “offering” at All Souls Knoxville.
You’ve probably heard the story of the elephant who can be restrained by a thin rope. As an adult, the elephant can obviously break free, but the rope has been on its leg since it was very small. And when it was small, the rope was strong enough to hold it; so in its mind, it cannot escape, even though now it is far more powerful.
My spiritual upbringing was an odd and confusing conglomeration of extreme fundamentalism, fairly healthy conservatism, and skepticism. One the one hand, I was told to “just read the Bible, believe it, and do what it says” and on the other, “think for yourself.” Ask questions and use your intellect, but don’t really question anything too deeply because that’s rebellion.
My mind heard and absorbed many messages — some of which were deliberate, some of which were implied, and many of which were contradictory. And while I do not blame the conservative evangelical environment I grew up in, in it I heard a subtle — and not-so-subtle — message that this was the only true orthodox set of Christian beliefs. Oh, there was some false humility — you know, “obviously nobody has it completely right” — but there was always an unspoken “… but we are the closest.”
In school, I was bright but painfully introverted. I excelled in some classes, but found myself struggling in others. I do not have an official diagnosis, but I believe that I have a mild form of autism spectrum disorder. My brain was different from most other people’s. I was wired to both think deeply and also to take seriously what I was told from authority figures.
I think I would have ended up healthier if I had either embraced this worldview completely, or had the courage to leave. But I didn’t leave — I believed I could not leave, because like that elephant, that rope of shame held me there.
I heard that I was greatly gifted and blessed; and to whom much is given, much is required. I heard that my friends and family were going to hell if I didn’t do something about it. I heard that I had to be a strong and confident leader. I heard that Christians are never worried or anxious. I heard that other spiritual communities were unfaithful to the true gospel. I heard that meditation and self-help were avenues for Satan to deceive. I heard that scientific knowledge was good, but there was only one way think about creation and climate. I heard of God as loving and kind, but also as a stern taskmaster who is poised to punish the slightest deviation from doctrine. I heard that I had to let go and let God, and that He would keep from harm.
I felt shame that I couldn’t live up to the expectations.
I felt shame that I couldn’t intellectually reconcile the beliefs and doctrines that I was handed.
I felt shame that I had convictions that didn’t match my community.
I felt shame that I felt shame.
I didn’t even know I was feeling shame. I didn’t even know I was feeling anxiety. (It wasn’t worry, of course, because Christians don’t worry.) I just thought I was stressed, and assumed that everyone else just handled stress better than I did. I just needed to do better. I felt shame over that too, of course.
Eventually this caught up with me. The body and mind can only handle cognitive dissonance and a constant fight-or-flight state for so long. I went into a period of deep depression for nearly ten years before getting it somewhat under control with medication and therapy. Even that was only the beginning of the journey of unpacking and healing.
Depression, of course, comes with its own shame and stigma. Many people equate depression and sadness — as in, “What do you have to be depressed about?” Which makes about as much sense as “What do you have to have cancer about?” Neither one is something you choose. In fact, my wife and I independently thought it would have been easier if I had cancer — because people respond to that with compassion and understanding.
I have heard “Depressed people just need Jesus” or “Depression is caused by lack of thankfulness” or “You just need to pray and read your Bible more” — which is hard to hear as someone who has tried — often desperately — to be a faithful Christian for over 40 years.
As Doug mentioned last week, healing from trauma, shame, or depression is a journey — probably a life-long journey. For me, breaking free from that rope has only been possible with the love and unconditional acceptance of my family (especially my wife), good friends, and the community here at All Souls. Thank you.