This has been an important year for me. I think the themes I took from this year are 1) Control, 2) Knowing my needs, and 3) Finding balance. I'm going to go over some of the high and low points of the year, then explain these themes in relation to my year (and my journey away from the faith), then wrap it up. This is liable to be a long post. If you are strictly interested in my journey away from the faith, skip my year summary and read points 1) and 2) below.
So, January of 2016 started out on a high note. After a year of killing myself at work to be the best at my job and to prove my skills, bending over backwards to learn new skills, volunteering for extra work, working a lot of overtime, and playing office politics a bit, I was in line for a pretty major promotion. I had been passed over for a promotion, but was informed that it was because I was in line for an even better one. Finally, all my work and efforts were being validated. They said it would be just a few weeks. But I felt like I was really coming into my own, and it felt great.
Then February happened. My company had a round of massive layoffs. I was kept on, but many people were let go - including my boss and the only coworker who had seniority in my position over me. Along with them and many others, I waved goodbye to my potential promotion. I was assured I wouldn't be forgotten, but I knew the hope was gone. What's more, I could tell they weren't going to replace my boss. In fact, I took over as essentially the head of my department and my responsibilities increase dramatically - still without a raise in pay or title.
March. As you can see in a previous post, the previous year, my old pastor/mentor/friend was arrested on charges of murder. That was a long, ridiculous journey. He hadn't admitted to it by this point, but over the course of 2015, I became more and more obsessed with a need for answers. After his arrest, things got worse for me. No need to rehash that here again, but it weighed on me heavily this month. A dear friend and previous roommate came to visit me, and I was so messed up from the emotions of the trials added to the additional loss of hope at work after having geared my whole life and identity toward advancing in my career that I could talk about little else with her when she visited.
Later in March, I discovered that a friend of mine from when I was in college (was even a roommate for a short time) went missing. Within a week, I learned that her body was discovered. The details of her death disturbed me and I felt that weight and her loss heavily.
The first quarter of the year was so laden with grief, pain, and loss. I almost quit my job several times. I felt like I was going crazy. I wasn't sleeping well. I was hardly eating. I skipped lunch at work daily so that I could leave a half-hour earlier because I hated being there so much that I'd rather skip a meal than to prolong my time there by a half-hour. But I found it hard to skip lunch if I'd eaten breakfast. It was easier if I didn't start my metabolism. So I skipped breakfast and lunch almost daily.
I only looked forward to my time at the gym with my trainer and my time at violin practice with my tutor. Those places gave me consistency. They gave me a place to excel where work had taken that away from me. Those were my mainstays.
I got tired of everything. Everything was exhausting. I decided that something (everything) needed to change. So on March 31st I decided, "I'm finally going to grad school for psychology. This needs to happen." I discovered that applications were extended till the end of April, giving me less than a month to apply, get my recommendation letters, get transcripts, take and "pass" the GRE (which I'd never studied for before), and have an interview. It was a shot in the dark, but I decided to throw myself in whole-heartedly. I deleted social media and spent almost every spare moment of the month studying for the GRE.
April. I took my test and got better scores than I expected - especially given the short study time as well as my distance from formal study of the subjects. It was still a shot in the dark whether the school would accept me, particularly because my *official* GRE scores arrived at the school two weeks after the extended deadline. Sure enough - I was accepted! The same day, I discovered that my pastor finally admitted to killing Marie. The beginning of my answers. The beginning of some healing, even with the extra chapter of pain that opened.
Earlier in March, I also began seeing a therapist. I was having a hard time managing my emotions. I felt like I was on autopilot and was barely present anywhere. Going to work still felt humiliating and demoralizing. I still wasn't eating or sleeping. I was living, but it was merely "surviving". It wasn't "life-changing" or "mind-blowing" to go to therapy. I didn't gain more insight in session than I did on my own. But it shifted one very important thing for me. She told me to eat. She told me to sleep. Those were the only goals we set. I already had the gym and violin. I was already working towards the hope of grad school. I was already willing to keep working at my job or find another, dependent on if things got better or worse.
I started eating. I slept a little more. The food gave me the energy to "make it" better. It also helped me to set goals at the gym and actually achieve them. Once I got accepted to school, it was essentially a waiting game - gearing up for it all to begin.
In June, I wrote my previous blog entry - the one that really exposed my experience with my experience with my pastor. I recommend reading it. But I posted it here in this blog - this blog would hardly had any traffic. Which was anonymous. No one tied *me* to this blog. It was very helpful to get the words out. So helpful.
In August, I went to orientation for school. It signified the beginning of a new chapter. I terminated work with my therapist just prior to beginning my program. I no longer felt I needed it. I was excited about life again. School began fast and furiously. I dove in and acclimated almost immediately. Guys, I gotta be honest. I don't know about being a therapist. I'm in school for applied clinical psychology. I enjoy the program and I love my classmates. I am absolutely enthralled by learning. But this may be a stepping stone to additional education for me further on. I love learning and I feel like I am in my element. I no longer define myself, my identity, my worth by a job that I happened to fall into.
That said, in August, I also got a promotion. It wasn't a *major* promotion - less than the one I was promised before. But it was validating. And it occurred after I started school - even with a reduced schedule. That made me feel even better.
In September, I decided to "go public" with this blog, particularly the one about my pastor. The reason was, I felt like so long as I didn't share that story, I would hold it, as I like to, as proof that "you don't know me". Stories like that give me power to distance myself from others. Insofar as I don't let people into the parts of my life that are major, defining moments for me, I hurt myself and my ability to really be known and move on. So I shared the post. In doing so, I also "went public" with the fact that I am no longer a Christian - something that my closest family already knew and closest current friends as well. But I worried about other friends. And previous professors who I deeply admire - two who wrote recommendations for my grad school application. Professors whose biblical work and studies I still admire, support, and follow. In one fell swoop, two of my biggest "defining details" of the story I usually keep to myself were public. This was majorly healing. Especially when it turned out that sharing about my pastor helped others who also were stuck in their own healing with that.
In December, I turned 27. This week a coworker (kind-hearted man, a little beyond middle-aged) asked me with a chuckle, "Do you feel older?" I said, "Actually, I do."
This year has been hard. I have felt more "adult" than ever before in every way. It's been challenging and redefining. So, relating this to my themes and journey before I wrap up with a collection of "highs" from the year...
1) Control.
When I was in the faith, one of the biggest impasses I came to at every crossroads (major and minor) was: Who is supposed to act here? Me or God? In the faith, any time I came to a juncture, I'd ask myself or others what I was supposed to do. There were two conflicting answers - both biblical in theme, but colloquial in phrase:
1. Let go and let God. Wait upon the Lord. This was the option where you prayed a lot and waited for God to close doors because it's "not your job" to do so. You are to follow God, listen to His voice, and let Him be your shepherd. You prayed and tried to listen. You interpreted thoughts and wondered, "Was that thought from me? Or God? Or the Holy Spirit of God in me working through my thoughts? Is it valid or no?" You interpreted silence and wondered, "Is God speaking to me? Is His silence an answer? Is He speaking in a 'still, small voice' that I am too dense to hear? Do I have unconfessed sin in my life preventing me from hearing God?" Or you'd interpret events, "Was that a sign? Is this how God is communicating to me or am I being selfish and just reading into a situation because I'm impatient to wait?"
2. Move in faith. Name it, claim it. This was the option where you acted. God doesn't always tell you what to do. In fact, sometimes it's actually a test to see if you will be faithful in moving according to God's will - the will you already know in your heart. In this case, it would be sinful to linger and not move. Even prayer could be a distraction from action (sinful) because you could be using it to keep yourself from acting in faith.
The two options were always at odds. You usually considered both and weren't sure of the proper course of action and felt simultaneously sinful for acting and not acting while you tried to figure out which it was. And in any case, in my opinion, you always went with your gut and called it God (hoping it was true).
Honestly, the outlook as an atheist isn't much different in terms of waiting vs. acting. I waited. I didn't quit my job. If my job never improved and my feelings never changed, it would have been unwise to stay. But I thought it could get better. And to be honest, I needed the money. Luckily, it did get better. A lot better. In this case, waiting served me - at least for a time. On the other hand, when it came to school, I acted. I decided "enough is enough" and I moved forward. I kinda wish I'd been bolder and pursued this sooner. I've been talking about grad school for psychology for years. I put it off - I waited - until my circumstances made it unbearable not to act.
In the end, you *never* know whether it is wiser to act or to wait. You go with your gut. Sometimes you go with your inclination (mine is almost always the inclination to wait) and sometimes you drastically overturn it and BAM. Your life changes.
The difference isn't in the doubt you experience or don't experience about whether you made "the right choice". It's about the locus of control. I've decided this path and I will deal with the consequences. When I let God choose my path, my spouse, and my lifestyle, it didn't fit. Not long term. I'm not a pastor. I'm not married to the men I thought God wanted me to marry. I'm not living in the inner city as a champion for social justice. I don't even lead a home church. It's hard when it doesn't fit, yet "God" chose it for you. You can't complain and you aren't free to change it until you feel prompted by a new juncture or a sense that the "test" is over. I have the freedom to change my life when it no longer fits. Life tests me enough. I never force myself to "endure a test". When I stayed at my job as I hated it, it wasn't for some noble purpose. It was because it served me. It kept me going until it felt better. If it failed to serve me over the long term, I would have left. And I would have been better for leaving it rather than enduring it.
Control is huge.
2) Knowing my needs.
This is kind of related. When you have a God that knows your needs, your heart, and your thoughts better than you do, and you have an all-powerful God that provides, you are never in a position to advocate for better for yourself.
This is one of the biggest and most important shifts for me in leaving the faith.
If God knows your needs better than you do and is capable of providing, if you aren't receiving what you need, that means that God has deemed that you don't need it. If you don't need it but think you need it, you deal with that by praying, crying, toughening up, whatever, but ultimately doing without. Some people feel noble doing so. That nobility and self-evaluation is addictive. Even if it never becomes prideful, the second that nobility becomes a part of your identity, suffering becomes a part of your identity, as the faith indicates it should. You die to yourself daily, you have been crucified with Christ, your "sinful flesh" is dying but Christ lives in you, you are being renewed, you are taking up your cross.
Doing without becomes the norm so much that you are no longer in touch with your needs. Your need to bend over backward to please others and to help them see God through your actions takes precedence over your well-being, especially when your eternity is secure and theirs is at stake. Your need to please God takes precedence over your need to feel good about yourself actually. I mean, you think you feel good about yourself, because you have redefined what that means. Feeling good about yourself means feeling good about your integrity to live the life God has called you to - that nobility, that humility, that suffering. Which are all the same thing. So that even feeling good actually kinda means feeling bad.
I swear to you that there is an addictive high in that mindset. It *does* feel good. Suffering itself can feel so, so good in the faith. Even crying, praying, pleading, and hurting feels good. Recontextualization is the key.
But when it becomes the norm, when your needs are being redefined as "kingdom needs", when you cease to exist (which is an ideal in the kingdom ethic in some senses), you truly cease to exist. Your needs are gone or absorbed into a Whole Kingdom somewhere, while you wither away. And it feels good, but you are truly suffering and you no longer know yourself well enough to recognize the needs, much less to recognize yourself.
It's been a struggle to begin to recognize my needs. This is and will continue to be my biggest struggle as I move away from my faith. It's hard to recontextualize needs within the context of "self" than the context of "the Body/Kingdom". This year has really highlighted so much of that for me.
3) More on this in a later post. I think this will come up a lot more for me in the next year and a half.
So before I wrap up, what about some high lights? You know, apart from liking my job again, getting a promotion, starting grad school, discovering my needs and how to meet them, and shifting the locus of control fully back to me.
I celebrated my 3 year job anniversary. I celebrated my 3 year boyfriend anniversary (and I feel closer to him than ever). I visited my grandparents. My boyfriend surprised me with a trip to see one of my best friends. I turned 27. I've accompanied my boyfriend on multiple flights as he works toward a pilot's license. I got to fly the plane once. I still have a pet squirrel whom I love so dearly. I got all A's my first semester in school. I worked out on a pretty regular basis for the past year and a half. I still make time for hobbies and people. I'm feeling more secure in my faithless-ness and I'm okay with the fact that I still like Christianity and miss parts of my spirituality (some of which I intend to recover even within the context of atheism).
And I'm looking forward to 2017. Even though next semester will be a doozy!
