The Church I Grew Up in Told Me I’m Possessed by Satan
And no, this isn’t just clickbait
It happened a few years ago, at a week-long church camp in California that lots of us from around the country flew out for.
Old German Baptist Brethren, New Conference was the denomination. And yes, somehow it has convinced people all over the country to join it, although they only number in total around 2000. The formal name is a mouthful, but the syllable count doesn’t come close to comparing to the long list of rules and delusions they try to force feed members.
One delusion? Anxiety and depression are not just mental health disorders caused by a mixture of trauma, stressors, genetics, and medical issues. Anxiety is actually caused by unrepented sin.
I developed a lovely laundry list of mental health problems after being put through gay conversion therapy, including anxiety, depression, and PTSD. My anxiety presented itself mostly through panic attacks. Panic attacks are, surprisingly, caused by an indwelling of Satan.
At least according to some of the chaps…
Because one of my main triggers is large crowds, I had panic attacks during a few church services/devotions at camp. I would quietly walk out with a close friend, do some breathing exercises, take a short walk, maybe do a few other coping strategies, and slip back in.
Sometimes, I could even remain seated if I had something to let out some of my excess energy on, like squeezing a hand if a stress ball wasn’t with me (our dresses didn’t have pockets, which made it difficult to keep a stress ball on hand).
I squeezed the aforementioned friend’s hand during campfire skits one night because the loud noises were triggering, but a chap put an end to that, saying the boys would think we were “same-sex attracted”.
We both were, although closeted… (Whoops!).
But point being, yes, a chap limited my coping mechanisms to cater to that delicate male gaze.
Rather than communicating their concerns (missing church for panic attacks) to me, they called up my parents, who live across the country. They told them how they had been praying fervently for my soul, fearing Satan’s obvious hold on me. A few chaps suggested my parents fly out and take me home.
My parents then talked to me on the phone; the conversation centered not on how I was feeling but on Their Reputation Being In Danger (parents of Satan-possessed daughters aren’t often celebrated in the OGBBC world). I told them I was getting better as I became acclimated to the camp, and I didn’t think I would have any more panic attacks the rest of camp. I did have more, but I hid them; I was in full survival mode.
On Monday after camp, the tradition is to all go to the beach and relax for the day. A chap called my parents who called me, informing me I should not go. This chap didn’t want their seventeen year old kid (who was older than me at the time):
- exposed to panic attacks/outpourings of the Devil
- around someone possessed by Satan
Wow, thanks.
So, successfully ostracized and in tears, I stayed, alone, at my friend’s house, while she and everyone else were at the beach. But remember the girl I mentioned earlier? She was several years older than me, and she texted me, saying she had a headache earlier so she stayed home from the beach. She asked if I’d like to come over for pizza. I did, and that night was the catalyst for a strong friendship founded on open discussion, a passion for learning, and free thinking.
It hurt, being told I was possessed… especially since at the time, I was fully Christian (now I’m chilling, deconstructing). But it also taught me two more things:
- Maybe the German Baptist church isn’t such a good thing (a fairly novel thought to me at the time).
- I can adapt to anything.
So in this holiday season, here’s to the strength of all those overcoming the shit ultraconservative Christians have put us through.
For more of the good stuff, follow Fourth Wave. Have you got a story, essay, or poem that focuses on women or other disempowered groups? Submit to the Wave!