Pandemic Revelations
We have had more than enough time to experience, observe, and live life in the pandemic. And there are plenty who would say they are different now than when it all started. And with each unique story we still find threads of commonality.That has been my story; entirely unique and utterly familiar.
During the twilight of isolation and with the extra hours added in the day, I noticed a pattern of daily spiraling thoughts leading eventually to a complete abandonment of my world view. Perhaps this is foreign to some and all too familiar for others. With the extra hours added to the day and conveniently finding myself in an in-between phase during the pandemic, I gave my time and attention to the thoughts I had shelved and claimed I was “too busy” to tend to. And when I say spiraling thoughts specifically I was sliding into a crisis of faith. Sliding is an understatement. Sliding insinuates some sort of friction even if minimal. A better metaphor is I, doused in oil, was jetting down a slide lathered in room temperature butter. Delicious and terrifying.
Childhood Religion
As a backstory, I grew up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or more commonly known by its less verbose name the Mormon church. For those who don’t know the Mormon church is a high demand or a religion that asks–demands–a lot from its members. Depending on your environment and the family you grew up in, it’s for many a hard religion to leave. Not because the leaders explicitly make you stay, but because when you’re a part of that faith that requires so much from its members, it becomes your complete identity. Abandoning the faith means abandoning your whole identity. And these were the oiled up,buttered up thoughts slicking through my brain that lead to questioning what I have always known. I won’t dive into my entire faith journey in this specific post– there will be plenty explaining that– but overall I had come to realize little by little that my personal principles and the teachings of the Mormon church clashed dramatically. I grew tired of the mental gymnastics, of justifying the Mormon church’s double speak; The cognitive dissonance was draining. Between the Mormon church and my principles I finally chose my principles. It only took me 24 years!
Therapy
I started therapy the moment I solidly knew I wanted to choose my values and leave the Mormon church. And with time to reflect it appears that my therapy experience wasn’t the norm. During this time I was set to move to Spain, but with the VISA process as a massive obstacle and COVID’s tendency to drag things out, I didn’t know exactly when I would leave. My therapist and I discussed this and we both decided that we will try to collect as many tools in my healing toolbox before I embark on my next adventure. And I did collect those healing tools. I still to this day value and try to apply what I had learned with my therapist in this in between phase. And I want to be very clear, I am so grateful for my therapist and I am a strong proponent for therapy if it is available to you. However, and this probably goes without saying, I did not completely “recover” as a post Mormon. We both knew our sessions couldn’t last forever and there is only so much you can learn in therapy when there is an end date. Since moving to Spain I have come to realize I am still deconstructing. And that healing after living my entire life in such an intense environment isn’t a quick fix.
Spain At Last
When I knew the exact date that I would leave, we reflected on all that I had learned and my therapist and I parted ways. And I felt good! Perhaps even mostly healed from my time in a high demand religion. I finally arrived to Spain and was ready to leave Mormonism behind me! But then little things started to happen as I adjusted to life in another country: I felt a need to “please” my constantly dissatisfied roommates, I had a tendency to over confess when meeting new people, even minor conflict in the apartment would throw me back to my lowest lows on my Mormon mission I served when I was a young adult, I noticed anger rising when I would sit and think of what I and my loved one’s endured to “be a faithful member”. With time it became glaringly obvious that I am not healed. And all of this still happens. I am still healing. The wounds were fresher than I thought. There is still anger and heartache for my childhood religion. It has been painfully clear the ways my upbringing has hindered me and my development. And it’s all still there. I’m not writing from the other side; I am in the middle of it right now. And I’ve decided that’s ok. Undoing the damage the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has done is not instantaneous. I will be gentle with myself. It’s ok if it still hurts. My life has been the most fulfilling it has ever been despite the pain. And though I am not sure how, I am determined to see how growing up in a high demand religion and then leaving it is a superpower.