My Brain Isn't Broken...

I used to be in a church group that was emotionally and spiritually abusive, and very much like a cult. My entire church is NOT a cult — I’m still in the same church today — the group I used to be in, though, was a nightmare. I was there for two years until my mental health forced me out. The group started out as an exciting thing, but it quickly became apparent to me that I didn’t remotely fit in with the people. Several of my leaders were abusive which paved the way for other people, including my roommates, to be abusers themselves. Nobody else saw any problems with the group. They never agreed with concerns I pointed out or acknowledged the horrors I experienced, so eventually I learned to keep my mouth shut to minimize the confusing and unanimous backlash.

I don’t know why, but one particular and influential leader chose me as her target. I think I was chosen because I was the only girl in the group who wouldn’t metaphorically worship the ground she walked on. She believed, and spread that belief to others, that I didn’t seriously want to follow God, that I was too unstable, and that I needed to be stripped of responsibility and purpose. Even my best friend at the time followed in her footsteps and cut off the friendship because of the ways I chose to cope with the abuse (something I only understood after getting out). I was relationally isolated in the house by the girls and then blamed and accused for not having closer friendships. I was gaslighted by the leader and my roommates so much that I lost all faith in myself and believed everything that came out of my brain was automatically wrong. I was punished for having chronic migraines, as my abusers viewed them as a cop-out for a shallow and failing spiritual life. I was rebuked for trying to comfort a girl with Biblical truth; apparently, I did it wrong. I was always the problem, it was always my fault, and I was always the one responsible for fixing things. In reality, I was depressed and severely suicidal, I was manipulated, shamed, and abused, and I did nothing to cause it.

I got out after nearly attempting to kill myself several times. None of my girls knew what to do when I told them I was leaving. They tried telling me that they loved me and would miss me, but I still to this day find that hard to believe considering their actions. On my bad days, I spend a lot of time grieving the two years I lost to that group, or the even the aspects of myself that were lost to all the trauma and manipulation. I grieve the friendships I thought I had in the group and often find myself not believing that any of it happened. It was the worst experience of my life, and I was completely alone for all of it.

I’m in a new group, a better group, where I’m learning that my brain isn’t broken. I’m in trauma counseling and am learning that I’m not actually defective!

Getting out was a life-saving decision that I will never regret. Trying to leave a cult is an unimaginable experience, but there’s a much better world outside that has so much recovery and joy to offer. My name is Kim, and that’s my actual picture. I’m imperfect, angry, and sinful, but I’m also healing and growing, and I am no longer afraid of acknowledging what happened, showing my face, and even ruffling some feathers.

I am proud as hell to say that #IGOTOUT.

~Kim