One Day at a Time
By Hannah ~
I was born to two twenty somethings who weren’t ready to have a baby at all. They found each other in a small Baptist Church, both coming from difficult lives.
I think they bought the idea that Christianity increases your chances of a better life.
Anyway,my first seven years were spent in dresses and skirts and we didn’t have Santa or the Easter bunny and we definitely didn’t trick or treat. It was a lonely, quiet early childhood and I didn’t fully trust any adult around me.
Why would I, with so much focus on rebellion and disrespect and “me versus you” parenting.
Age eight, I went to a tiny Christian school. It was more exciting than homeschooling with Abeka and Bob Jones textbooks. I lived my super sheltered life constantly hearing about people who weren’t saved, were going to hell, demons, more hell. We couldn’t even play pranks on April Fools because it was Atheist Day and pranks often involved lying.
I towed the line, often couldn’t sleep at night from a multitude of anxieties and I tried to please my parents when I could manage it.
I went to Bible college ,met a good man and married him. I guess I probably would have kept on living the evangelical fundamentalist life except for two things
After a bout with depression, I finally went to therapy in 2018. It took about a month for everything to come crashing down and it scared me how my airtight religion of 35 years just couldn’t stand up to any close scrutiny on the internet.
I grieved.
Built a special bond with my co-survivor, my brother. My kids went trick or treating for the first time this year and I was sad for the neighborhood community experience I missed out on as a kid. All that needless fear for all those years. It feels really good to feel part of the human race.
I’m living one day at a time.I guess I’m a hopeful agnostic at this point,though I haven’t announced that to anyone except my best friend.
I’m living one day at a time.
That’s enough for me.
I think they bought the idea that Christianity increases your chances of a better life.
Anyway,my first seven years were spent in dresses and skirts and we didn’t have Santa or the Easter bunny and we definitely didn’t trick or treat. It was a lonely, quiet early childhood and I didn’t fully trust any adult around me.
Why would I, with so much focus on rebellion and disrespect and “me versus you” parenting.
Age eight, I went to a tiny Christian school. It was more exciting than homeschooling with Abeka and Bob Jones textbooks. I lived my super sheltered life constantly hearing about people who weren’t saved, were going to hell, demons, more hell. We couldn’t even play pranks on April Fools because it was Atheist Day and pranks often involved lying.
I towed the line, often couldn’t sleep at night from a multitude of anxieties and I tried to please my parents when I could manage it.
I went to Bible college ,met a good man and married him. I guess I probably would have kept on living the evangelical fundamentalist life except for two things
- My brother is gay and
- Trump came on the scene in 2016.
After a bout with depression, I finally went to therapy in 2018. It took about a month for everything to come crashing down and it scared me how my airtight religion of 35 years just couldn’t stand up to any close scrutiny on the internet.
I grieved.
Built a special bond with my co-survivor, my brother. My kids went trick or treating for the first time this year and I was sad for the neighborhood community experience I missed out on as a kid. All that needless fear for all those years. It feels really good to feel part of the human race.
I’m living one day at a time.I guess I’m a hopeful agnostic at this point,though I haven’t announced that to anyone except my best friend.
I’m living one day at a time.
That’s enough for me.