Ursa... Yes, the thread is called "Virtual Echo Chamber". Rants welcome! :D

Okay, I've been trying and trying to post this comment, but only got error messages yesterday.

@UrsaMinor: I was referring to stalking the entire UF site, lol.

@DesignO:

Tragically, youth is wasted on the wrong people. If I only knew then what I know now.

@UrsaMinor the keenest sense of loss is when you take a look at that amazing 20-something person walking down the street and know that you will never have a look in because of your age.

Hi elivent!

Don't worry about how long your post was. It was interesting, and somewhat familiar-sounding in lots of ways. Good on you for getting out at such an early age - some people can't break out until much later, or at all, they just justify the bad treatment in some way. The question you ask is not an easy one to answer though. Anger like that just doesn't disappear. Depending on your circumstances, you may continue to have reasons to get angry, especially if your mother and sister are still involved with, or desiring community with, religious groups that encourage them to make the group their most important priority to the exclusion of family, wider community and even reality.

Some things I found helpful:

- working out who you're angry at. Undirected anger is very frustrating because you can't get a handle on it. Are you angry at your parents? Yourself? "Jo" and the other church leaders who manipulated you and your family? The people who stood by and watched? Outsiders who didn't help you? The institute of religion itself? All of those are possibilities. Knowing who you're angry at gives you something to aim at when you're trying to get rid of the anger. Once you know the who you can start on the why, which in my experience is a much more helpful place from which to decide how to deal with it. Do you have access to a good counsellor or psychologist? Or a trusted friend who you can talk about anything with? I found that both of those helped a lot in first of all working out that I was angry, and then working out a direction to point the anger at. Sometimes the anger can't be expressed to the real target in any way that will be helpful, but you can work out a different way to direct it.

- find a way to fight back, or undo some of the damage. I've done that in lots of different ways, starting with working on making sure that I'm not a wreck myself. I got counselling, educated myself both formally and informally, even did things like apologise to some of my extended family for having behaved like a prat in the past. I refused to be a permanent casualty myself, and then I found ways to help others. Learn about the things that make you angry and participate on forums, or write letters to the paper, or join groups which advocate for the abolition of religious bias in government institutions, or work for good standards of education for all children, or help out other people who have been affected by religion in a negative way, or just be there to be a voice of reason in the life of your sister and your mother. Whatever works for you. It's sometimes frustrating and difficult, and you may not see the results yourself, but maybe something you say or do will affect somebody's life for the better. I must admit there's quite a lot of satisfaction in knowing that you have helped someone to disprove the label that they are hopeless and bound for doom without the religious scaffold :-)

I don't know if any of that is helpful, but that's what I found helpful to me. Good luck, and welcome to UF.

@LRA:

Didn't you actually start a rant/vent thread a while back, called "Echo Chamber" or something like that?

@elivent:

Were you stalking the entire forum, or just me? I've haven't had my own stalker since I came down with a severe case of middle age.

a compulsive read. I really hope you find a way to deal with that anger. what YOU believe is very important. keep talking it through.

@fredjs: You know, the validation of their beliefs is an aspect that I always forget about. But it can almost feel like I have a responsibility to say *something*, because if they do happen to be willing to actually listen and test their views to see how they hold up, isn't that better for them in the long run? But I guess that would be comparable to how they feel like it's better for unbelievers to hear about the consequences of not being saved in the long run. It really isn't up to me to decide what's best for people, much though I may have to repress the urge to try sometimes. :(

@elivent:

Glad you've found some insight here! This is one classy and intelligent group here.

When it comes to debating, I'm on the fence. On the one hand I see debating believers as a validation of their beliefs holding at least some modicum of credibility but I don't agree with that. On the other hand it can have value when the believer is truly willing to listen and consider your position. Much if not most of the time this is not the case and the believer simply uses the debate as a consistent declaration of things they cannot know and that do not have evidence in support of their position. In that sense it ceases to be a debate at all and can turn into a frustrating pissing contest. It's a roll of the dice until the discussion is underway.

LRA you're the only person who says that...

XD

Well, if you want to vent, then by all means do! You'll get lots of rAmens! from the UF gallery.

:D

Holy crap, so many responses! Thanks so much for reading, all of you, seriously.

@Kodie - Haha, I'm totally a forum noob when it comes to actually posting things.

@Elemenope - Thank you!

@JonJon - Thanks - it ended up being a bit more scattered and convoluted than I had hoped, but it was a huge relief to post this. Also, re: denominations, yeah...I would put those two at the top of the list of ones to stay far, far away from...for really any reason. *shudder*

@Mark the Pilgrim - Thank you, but dear god, don't compare me to you guys! I can discourse at length on personal experiences, but when it comes to writing something intellectual and concise on philosophy or biblical scholarship...oy. You guys are leagues beyond me.

@fredjs - I'd love to hear your story. I definitely have a problem with speaking before thinking when I'm around family and they happen to be pushing something on me, whether it's leading a dinner prayer on a visit or sending me a book about "one man's incredible journey towards faith". I'd like to hone my debate skills so that I can approach it reasonably and without the emotion that tends to make things escalate unproductively.

@UrsaMinor - Hello! I've definitely been enjoying reading your posts. I guess you could consider me an ex-UF stalker now. The only times I really feel compelled to keep quiet about my views are when I'm with family, because the slightest thing can set off an emotional maelstrom, and sometimes I just don't have the energy for it. Aside from that, I'm definitely getting bolder about letting people know where I stand, which is pretty darn empowering. Also, your "I'm a Baptist/Catholic/dental hygienist/whatever" - I loled.

@Custador - I very, very much hope that someday I'll get to the point where I can let it go. I think I've come close to letting religious views seriously harm important relationships, and honestly, I just don't think it's worth it - unless the other person refuses to drop it. But really, I don't know. This post was very cathartic for me.

@LRA - I'm definitely getting the "understand and supportive" part of this community! I like your coping method, too - I've vented with the friend who went through the AoG part with me, but haven't talked about it much outside of that. It's just been too big and too pervasive for me to really be able to step back and write anything about it until now.

Oh, boy! Do I know about anger toward the church.

Here's what I did: I vented. I vented some more. And then I vented some more. (Often here at UF.) Then, when I felt ready, I decided to start engaging Christians on their turf again in a safe way. Now, I regularly contribute on "Jesus Needs New PR"-- It helps me remember that Christians are people, too! (LOL! That was a joke, JonJon.)

When I want to no-holds-barred rant about stupid fundy dumbf*ckery, I come here, tho. I find the UF community to be understanding and supportive.

:D

First of all, welcome to UF.

I read your story with interest, and while I cannot claim to have had similar religious experiences, I do have experience in dealing with the residual anger from pretty seriously abusive situations. I'm not going to lay out my life on an internet forum, but suffice it to say that I spent a long time as an angry, angry young man because of some very, very bad things that happened to me in my youth.

Ultimately, I had to let it go. I got to nineteen before I ever discussed my issues with anybody; when I eventually did share it with somebody (a girl I "dated" for all of about a week) it all just came out in a great torrent, I cried for about an hour out of sheer relief of being able to talk about it, we had fantastic sex and then I fell asleep. When I woke up the next day, the thought was already clear as a bell in my mind that I had to stop being angry and obsessing over things in my past that were not my fault and that I could not change; I finally realised that I was hurting myself as much or more than those things ever hurt me, because I was so obsessively angry about them. That day I let the anger go. It wasn't even an effort, it was just time to let go so that's what I did.

I know that not everybody can do that on demand, but I hope that when the time is right for you, it will happen for you too.

Welcome, elivent! If you've been lurking much, then you probably already know more than you care to know about me. :)

How do you deal with the leftover anger? Do something constructive. If you are in a position where you can be an out atheist, do so. You never know when somebody nearby might be going through something like you did and need somebody to talk to. Be a visible role model if you can. You will also help to combat stereotypes about atheists by showing that we're mostly just decent, ordinary people.

This is not to say that you have to wear a tee-shirt proclaiming your lack of belief, or have "Atheist" tattooed on your forehead, or inject the fact that you're an unbeliever into every conversation whether it's relevant or not. But when it is relevant, make it known in the same tone that you would announce "I'm a Baptist/Catholic/dental hygienist/whatever". This isn't about being in-your-face and making sure that *everybody* hears you're an atheist whether they like it or not, it's about declining to remain invisible just so that others can be comfortable. Don't accept the status quo.

I'm sure other people will have other suggestions, but that's the way I approach stuff like this.

Hi, elivent. Thanks for posting this. I may have to follow suit.

It's OK to feel upset towards Christianity and you have personal reasons to validate those feelings. I feel like this quite often (although I hold a greater dislike for Islam) and even though I can be hot-headed and speak before I think when it comes to responding to those pushing irrational nonsense on me, I'm learning to know when to pick my battles and try the 'catch more flies with oil than vinegar' approach when possible.

I'm basically saying you can't change the minds of those you care for when it comes to their beliefs and you shouldn't try. Instead, you can influence them and when they get too pushy, push back and stand up for your principles. Hard is it might be, sometimes walking away and focusing on the now is the best option.

Read it all the way through! You give Nox, Ursa Minor, Kodie and me a run for our money when it comes to long but interesting posts! So I second JonJon's motion that you post more often.

But I wasn't ever a Christian, so I've missed out on the anger stemming from deconversion. Although, the attitude of Christians has pissed me off. Particularly when I live outside of England and being expected to justify my non-belief to closed minded people. I don't mind debates, but debating with the stubborn sucks. The fact that some people thought I was stupid and somewhat immoral was irritating too.

"The first church that we started attending was an Assembly of God, and it was bad."

When I read this, I winced, and thought to myself: "Oh no..."

"This is how we ended up with the Seventh Day Adventists"

And then winced again.

The more you know about contemporary US denominations, the more you should sympathize with this story.

You're an excellent writer. I hope you post more!

Welcome to the forums!

I didn't read it yet, but I'm an authority on these matters - it was definitely ridiculously long. :)

I will read it now. When you edit, you don't have to admit your mistake, just fix it and no one will know. Hello, new person, elivent!

Well, I’ve been putting off doing this for quite a while, and I think the time has come to finally just write all of this out.

I’ve been reading UF for a long time – since well before Daniel moved the site to its own domain, actually. I’ve left maybe three comments in all that time, mainly because 1) hanging around here, I’m constantly being made aware of how much I don’t know, and 2) I’m incredibly shy. Like, really, really shy, which is much easier to admit on the internet than in person, so. I’m doing this now, however, because religion has been such a huge part of my life and my desire to get my experiences out there and discuss them is finally trumping my desire to remain a lurker forever. Actually, I could be wrong about this, but I think maybe once way back I did introduce myself, though not with much detail.

So…I guess a little bit about me? I’m 23, and an ex-English/vocal performance major (unfortunately, I only made it through 2.5 years of university before a series of family deaths and bad depression derailed it. I do plan on going back, but I’m going to have to be really sure of my direction when I do). I spent the first fourteen years of my life in Massachusetts and the last nine in Minnesota, though I remain a staunch New Englander and make sure to set aside regular time for bouts of ocean/forest/seafood-related pining (okay, it’s an exaggeration, but…not by much). If not for religion, I actually would say that I had a pretty lovely childhood, though things did change pretty dramatically when we moved. I should probably start as far back as I can, though, and I apologize in advance if this gets really, really long.

My family has been religious for as long as I can remember. Before I started kindergarten, my earliest church-related experiences were actually along pretty fundamentalist lines – going door-to-door with my parents, passing out tracts, and being That One Kid in the neighborhood who tried to evangelize to all the other kids (fortunately, I grew out of that part pretty fast). Right before I was to start school, my parents decided to move to a neighboring town, and we started attending a nondenominational sort-of-mega church. From that point on, one of the biggest defining feelings I had about church was, I don’t want to be here. It feels strange in retrospect – church should have been one of the places I felt the most comfortable. In the earlier years, I had friends there, was great at memorizing verses for Sunday school, and totally made it all the way to the highest honors in Pioneer Girls (sort of a Christian Girl Scouts program).

For some reason, however, none of this really made any sense to me. Like many of you who have come from religious backgrounds, I remember reading the bible when young and asking questions that were brushed aside or answered completely unsatisfactorily. During services, I would literally feel like I was suffocating (whether it was early claustrophobia from the crowded sanctuary or just sheer terror of a god that supposedly saw and kept track of every single good and bad thing I did, I really don’t know), and could never seem to find enough breath to sing along with the hymns. I had “accepted Jesus into my heart”, of course, but only because it was What You Did. I never felt any kind of presence outside of my own mind, no comforting arms of the heavenly father or any indication that anyone or anything was listening to my prayers at night.

My mom had a home daycare at that point, and alongside the religious at-home education that she tried to give all of us, she and my dad also did their best to give us a healthy appreciation for – and basic understanding of – science (I know. It doesn’t really make sense to me now, either. She was horrified when I decided that there actually was something to this whole “evolution” thing). She was always much more heavily invested in religion than my dad, something that’s continued to this day, in fact – but her fervor has always overridden his much more tolerant, relaxed approach. Religion has been her comfort, a response to a life that, on the whole, has not treated her kindly.

Aside from attending church and having to do bible studies as punishment when I misbehaved, however, religion didn’t involve soccer, reading, nature hikes, or my friends, so I didn’t think too much about it. By then, I had pretty much accepted that I was a faulty Christian, lacking whatever it was that made god deign to speak so personally to everyone else. I thought that maybe I still had a shot at getting into heaven if I kept trying, because surely god would understand that I was doing my best, but “trying” eventually turned into “looking like I was trying”, and, after one particularly harrowing youth group retreat where the speaker taught us all about the one sin that god couldn’t forgive (apparently, it’s losing the urge to seek him out. I KNOW. Utterly traumatized, since I actually believed it) I ended up concluding that I was probably irredeemably hell-bound.

Holy run-on sentence, Batman.

Anyway, things continued in that vein for quite a few years. As I got older, the views of my friends from public school became more and more interesting to me – many of them were nonreligious, Unitarian Universalist, and pagan. I didn’t really drift away from my church friends so much as become cut loose – they all attended a private Christian school, and between them discovering sexuality (I was a bit slow on that. Y hello thar, sexual repression) and bringing their school cliques to church, we all simply stopped trying. Sunday school and youth group became incredibly painful to attend.

So that pretty much brings me up to The Move. You know how they say that one of the worst possible periods to move a child in is during the transition from middle school to high school? Yeah. They’re right. At least for me, anyway.

We moved during the middle of my eighth grade year to my grandpa’s house on the south shore. That was bad enough, and much though I adore the area now, I was severely depressed and borderline suicidal for about six months. We started attending a Vineyard church down the road, and after a few months there I ended up going on a week long mission trip with the youth group, whom I hardly knew at all. It was…interesting. We went to Juarez, Mexico, to do VBS (vacation bible school, for those who don’t know) for the kids, and though I was deeply moved by the pretty terrible conditions people were living in, it did seem to me like some actual aid – supplies, help with building houses, etc. – would have been much more helpful to the people than a series of silly little programs. Looking back, I think this church was actually a lot more intense than I remember feeling like it was; at night, there would be these really bizarre bible studies for those of us there, and then special groups would be picked to go perform “exorcisms” on various buildings. I only went on one, and we ended up sitting in a circle in someone’s living room, holding hands, praying, and trying to purify it from all of the evil that had doubtlessly occurred there. I did hear some things from other kids about some “pretty serious spiritual warfare”, as one guy put it, but yeah. Mass hysteria, I think.

The only time I suspected that something even remotely supernatural had happened to me on the trip was when, during visits around the village, we encountered a child who was very sick, and for some strange reason I prayed that the sickness would pass into me. When I later threw up, I was initially impressed, but since I didn’t get sick in any other way, I chalked it up to a combination of heat exhaustion and dehydration.

Oh man. This is getting immensely long. I’m so sorry if I’m including all kinds of things that are irrelevant or just plain boring. Bear with me, guys. The crazy is on its way.

When we moved out to MN, for me, things got much, much worse. I was on and off of antidepressants through high school, was totally antisocial except for a couple of friends, and sowed the seeds for what would later become an abusive relationship with a guy that lasted through most of my (somewhat pathetic) college career. The first church that we started attending was an Assembly of God, and it was bad. Honestly, I can hardly type this without seeing red.

Here’s how it went down:

My mom found the church, and started going with my sister before dad and I got involved. I don’t know what happened, but the fairly liberal, nondenominational teachings of our old church got thrown out the window. Suddenly it was all about THE END TIMES and a bunch of other ridiculous, utterly fear-based manipulation tactics. My mom started attending meetings with names like “theophostic prayer”, and insisted that we do the same. She started “speaking in tongues” – not just during church, but at home. To our dog. To me, that was freaky shit.

Then I met Jo (not her real name). Or rather, we met Jo. When my mom really started putting the pressure on for me to start attending more than just Sunday sermons, I convinced my best friend to come with me to youth group, which was headed up by the pastor’s wife. And boy, did she latch on to us. We had no idea that we were so vulnerable. She was young, beautiful, seemingly successful – someone that it was easy for us to look up to. At first.

As soon as she found out that we were into fantasy, every meeting was about how epic spiritual warfare could be, and how real and present it was in our day to day lives. The stories of her past were gripping: abused at home, out on the streets, cults, drug abuse, witchcraft, you name it. And though we started out skeptical, we ended up swallowing everything she said. When she said there was a “demonic stronghold” on the west side of town (apparently this was like a…demon fortress? I don’t even know), we went there and prayed. When she said to watch out for certain people at school or work, we convinced ourselves that they were possessed. I’m still so embarrassed and ashamed to admit this, but she had us eating out of the palm of her hand. Suddenly fantasy was our reality, we were pulling away from our other “sinful” friends, and demonic danger was around every corner.

It couldn’t last forever, though.

The culmination of her work on us was a book burning.

Yes, I know.

She convinced us that everything we owned that made mention of magic, any music that could have been “satanically inspired”, and, worst of all, the 120 page fantasy story that we had started writing together by hand, needed to go into the fire.

And it did. It all did. Hundreds of dollars worth of books, and the incalculable personal worth of our original writing. We tossed it all in with an ecstasy bordering on insanity, convinced that we were purging ourselves of everything that would keep us from complete fulfillment in god, and safety from the apocalypse.

The afterglow lasted about a week, and then things changed. What we had done slowly began to sink in. Probably sensing something, Jo changed our theophostic prayer sessions so that they were one on one with her, rather than together. When I voiced my concerns that what we had done mightn’t have been the best thing, she told my best friend that I was beginning to harbor evil spirits. She told me the same thing about her, and when we started comparing stories, we began to get really doubtful about her motives. Why would our mentor try to turn us against each other? Two of our friends also confronted us about the way we had been acting, and ever so slowly, we began to back away. I’m pleased to say that no matter what Jo did from then on to try to keep us in the fold, the trust had been utterly broken, and we were done with it.

It took a little longer for the rest of my family to leave; they hadn’t had the bizarre, intense experience that I had. When it got to be too much for even my mother, though, she backed out and started looking for a new church.

This is how we ended up with the Seventh Day Adventists, whose brand of bible code seminars and apocalyptic rhetoric seemed downright mild-mannered compared to the AoG. Their health message was what really drew my family in, but by that point, I was so completely mistrustful and disillusioned that it was all I could do not to throw a fit every Saturday before church. I bore up under it through the rest of high school, though, simply reading the bible during sermons so that I wouldn’t have to listen, and flatly refusing to join any kind of youth organization. This church was owned and run by one very wealthy, very extensive family, and recently my mother actually sent in her letter of resignation. I’m pretty proud of her – it took a long time for her to get past her intense desire for community and religious support, but she’s finally seen all of the issues that plague this church, as well. My sister is still a member, however, and I’m equal parts sad and worried for her. She’s incredibly intelligent, but so much more indoctrinated than I ever was, with no really bad experiences to shake up her faith or make her really question anything. She’s also attended solely SDA schools since middle school, so I can’t help but wonder what will happen to her when she gets out into the real world. I try every now and again to push her towards some critical thinking, but she can be pretty resistant to it.

Anyway, the rest of my story can be summarized pretty simply. When I moved out and could have whatever books I wanted – as well as the ever-essential internet access – I started researching biblical inconsistencies and reading as many deconversion stories as I could. Which led me here, where the community seems awesome and people are so, so knowledgeable, and it’s well past time that I actually got involved.

So now I’m a proud atheist, but I have a question for any of you who have had bad experiences with religion:

How do you deal with the leftover anger?

I've been out for several years now, and I still go through phases where everything even remotely Christian infuriates me. It really isn't something that I want.

Anyway, thanks for reading, if you made it this far. I really appreciate it. And sorry again for the length and ~drama~ of it. I hope it was somewhat coherent.

Edit #1 - Wrote "sewed" instead of "sowed". *headdesk*