Tuesday night, I went to church for mid-week service. I caught Lyft there and back. I was kind of excited as I hopped in my driver’s car and we had a conversation about God, Florida, and coffee and insomnia. I anticipated seeing church friends and acquaintances and learning about God. All of those things happened Tuesday night. So, why the title of this blog post? Keep reading.
I’m tired. I’m tired of church being the only place offered for community. I’m tired of having an anxiety attack every time I go to church, regardless of its size. I’m tired of the difficulty that comes with attempting to connect with people due to social awkwardness and shyness. I’m tired of caring for others, checking on them, and hearing silence in return. Yes, I know people are busy, but for those who claim to miss me but never bother to respond to me, that hurts. And I’m tired of being the bigger person about it. That’s not fair to me and others like me.
I’ve kept a part of myself away from this public blog, in part because of the people who know me outside of the Internet. I am a multiple. I have Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) otherwise known as Multiple Personality Disorder. DID happens as a result of trauma, but not every person who experiences trauma develops DID. I try hard not to let my others out when I am in public, especially when I am in church lest they think I am comprised of demons and every evil thing instead of Holy Spirit and grace and understanding. Listen, I know it’s not easy to accept or understand, but that’s the reality of the situation. How it relates to my main point is this: I have a multiple who is not a believer of the Gospel of Christ. You would think that church would be the best place for a situation like that, right? Um, not so much.
In the midst of worship Tuesday night, the band was singing Elevation Worship’s “Here Again” and all was good until the bridge came: “Not for a minute was I forsaken, the Lord is in this place, the Lord is in this place. Come Holy Spirit, dry bones awaken. The Lord is in this place, the Lord is in this place.” My unbelieving, anti-God alter heard the “not for a minute was I ever forsaken” line and intrusive memories and flashbacks started a conga line in my brain. I wasn’t in control, she was. She walked right out of the room filled with praise and worship to sit out in the foyer, near the closed café, to stare out the window contemplating whether to leave or not. I’m tired of struggling with Christianity because of her (it’s like constantly having an agnostic in your head telling you all the reasons you’re wrong for believing in and following God), but I can’t let anyone at the church know because they won’t understand. And even if they do understand, I doubt any of them are knowledgeable enough to guide me (and the others) spiritually. I feel ostracized and alienated for several reasons, the DID being only one of many, and I’m emotionally exhausted from trying to find community only to come up short every time. I’m beginning to think it’s not worth it.