Highs (and Lows) of High School Ages 15-18 (Part 5)

CW: SA, SI, Depression, Purity Culture

A bit of Background

The Deckerville First Baptist church was in the middle of a church split when we first started attending. Context of the church split, a mother had approached the new lead pastor Jed Willis about her son who was “living in sin.” What was this man’s sin? He was living with his long-term girlfriend. Jed gave this individual an ultimatum of “stop living with her” or “you aren’t welcome here” and the individual left. Along with many congregants that felt like this was overstepping the church’s role in the individual’s life.¹

Where We Left Off

I think the best point to jump off here was our move to Deckerville First Baptist. As kids we weren’t really given much of a reason for our move (see my last post), but I held some optimism about the switch as Ken and his family would be there. My parents had slowly been inching their way of the Bible Church and into Deckerville First Baptist. The way they had been doing this was by having me attend youth group at the First Baptist Church and not at Deckerville Bible Church (DBC). At the time DBC had a fairly active youth group and they went on a lot of events (like just hanging out and watching ELF), bible quizzing tournaments, and swimming trips. My parents told me that all of these competitions and fun events were taking away from the true purpose of youth group – learning more about god and scripture. So away I went to Deckerville First Baptist (DFB).

One again I didn’t totally mind, and I got to hang out with Ken and his family. And I’d known them from childhood up. Though I will stop to comment here that any friendships with kids at the Bible Church would be curtailed by me leaving the youth group. Attending another youth group marked me as an outsider in the church.²

When my mom was told to publicly apologize for her “lack of forgiveness” at DBC we completely flipped to the Baptist Church. I would like to point out this was another bridge burned, and at this point any social relationship I would have had with any of the kids at the previous church were now completely gone. I didn’t have a way to keep up with them or connect with them outside of church (No phone and limited access to internet). As we moved into this new church there was a clear clash of culture between two separate worlds. It was a 50/50 split between the homeschool kids and public-school kids. While that sounds really “normal” it really divided the youth group with neither side really engaging with the other (at least from my POV).³

Jed’s teaching style I would describe as dogmatic, formal, and verbose. I was certainly learning doctrine and scripture, but I had to sort through overly descriptive and formal language in order to “learn” anything. Jed’s focus was scripture and bible teaching, and we rarely discussed anything relevant to our lives as teenagers. Questions about how to handle life or how to talk to a suicidal friend were never discussed. Instead, we had systematic studies of the bible book by book. Which is theoretically useful, but not to a teen just trying to make it through day-to-day life. His Sunday sermon series were also similar. I can particularly remember a series on the book of exodus moving verse by verse through the book. We listened to hours of descriptions of about the jewels on the priestly garments and the symbolism of each one. While this type of deep theological discussion can be relevant in certain circles it’s hard to directly apply something like that to your life.

And I was certainly going through some shit both theologically and emotionally. I could have used some direction and real-life application. During this time, I started doubting my faith. I’ve mentioned before that I was saved honestly before I had good memory of it. How could I trust other’s word that I was saved. I walked myself through the “Roman’s Road” and fervently reached out to god using the words I was taught – “The Sinner’s Prayer.” But I was so worried if I was REALY saved? Did I really mean it when I said those words?

“Dear Lord Jesus, I know that I am a sinner, and I ask for Your forgiveness. I believe You died for my sins and rose from the dead. I turn from my sins and invite You to come into my heart and life. I want to trust and follow You as my Lord and Savior. In Your Name. Amen.”

Billy Graham’s “sinner’s prayer“

My church and my family gave conflicting messages about salvation. Messages on how we needed to make sure we were believing the correct beliefs and theology needed to save us. Right after messages about how the gospel message was so simple anyone could understand it. My anxiety latched on to the sermons about making sure that you had the right beliefs to be saved. I can’t tell you how many variants of the sinners prayer I prayed in my teens. I would hear messages about how when we were saved god fills us with the holy spirit filling our life with the “fruits of the spirit.”⁴ But I didn’t feel anything. How was I to know I had conformation of my salvation? And anytime I felt like I sinned I felt like that was proof that I wasn’t truly saved. I was told that if I was saved god would walk along side me always giving me a way out of my sinful behavior.

“There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”

1 Corinthians 10:13

I couldn’t escape from the idea that I wasn’t saved. I was wicked and my thoughts⁵ were evidence of that. However, the more I tried to control my thoughts the worse they got. And with the worsening intrusive thoughts I used those thoughts as evidence to confirm just how wicked and deprived I was to god. It was a horrible cyclical cycle that I couldn’t break free from. Reach out to god for salvation. Fuck up in some way. Use that as evidence of my lack of faith and feel and ton of shame and guilt. Start to doubt myself and my salvation and repeat the process all over again.

Lori Alexander. Please note the focus on holding every thought captive. My parent’s own theology would match up solidly with “The Transformed Wife”

I was deeply depressed and suicidal. I was miserable and didn’t see a path or a way forward. In my last post I talked about the family circumstances my parents were going through. My mom and dad were both dealing with depression following my sister’s accident, and they didn’t have a lot of mental energy to be there for us. I will add that my dad was almost completely absent from my life during my high school years. He tried to hide from his pain and depression through his work. My mom turned to her faith again. Working towards the correct Christian response to be thrown out from her church and faith community. I’ve read enough from my mom’s writings to understand she was also suicidal and depressed during this time.

I’ve already written a decent bit on this period of my life. See my recent post for CRHE’s “Day of the Homeschooled Child.” The answer to my depression and SI that I was given was to push deeper into my faith and to find scripture that could resonate with my struggles. Medication, therapy, or psychology were never discussed as viable options. I was also told that my sexual thoughts and desires were sinful, but that god forgave me for my sinful thoughts and desires. I just needed to work on forgiving myself. That minor bit of good advice (forgive yourself) was enough to keep me from doing anything permanent. Even though much of the rest of this conversation about depression only added on to my guilt and shame. ⁶

I discussed my youth group and how Ken and his family attended the church but even that came to an end. One of Ken’s siblings was in a relationship with another member of the youth group. When Ken’s dad refused to give permission for marriage for the couple they went to Jed to discuss this. Jed suggested they elope and ignore their parents advice. Apparently the male member of this relationship was also physically and emotionally abusive, and that was a large factor in why the father refused to bless their relationship. After Jed’s ill-timed advice the family decided it was best to leave the church and find a new place to worship.

This drove a wedge between our families as well. Ken’s dad was in my father’s wedding, and they had known each other for years. But my father sided with the pastor of Deckerville First Baptist and tried to persuade Ken’s family to return to the church. Whether my dad knew about the abuse or not I really don’t know. But after this confrontation they never hung out together after this incident. Once again a church was prioritized over relationships and people. I still saw Ken after this but was only able to visit every other month or so.⁷ ⁸ Ken’s family moved on to a “Gospel Hall” where he would eventually meet his wife. And we stayed at the Baptist church.

On the homeschool side, my time as a part of the Caro homeschool group was completely done. My parents attended two separate “co-op”s after that time. Only one of which I was allowed to participate in. One of the co-ops only had classes for younger children (not in high school). The other co-op was a monthly social event with a minor focus on public speaking.⁹ And there were a few kids around my age that attended this group. Though once again the monthly structure of the event made it hard to maintain or foster relationships with other kids.

My academics were good initially in high school. As I approached higher levels of math and science, I was unable to complete my work. I tried hard to make it work; but without assistance from my family or a teacher I was unable to grasp much of my chemistry, higher math, or Spanish. My final year of high school my parents allowed me to attend a career center and take “Health Occupations” as a way for me to have a heads up in college.

I’m glad they did push me to attend. As this was the closest I had to a traditional school environment, and it did help me learn how traditional testing and learning took place. I was also allowed the independence to drive myself to school. And for the first time ever I had the opportunity to go to a library or store without someone over my shoulder. I wasn’t horribly rebellious. The worst things I did was buy a M rated game, check out DnD “Forgotten Realms” books, read the “Powers” comic series, and read harry potter.¹⁰

I can remember the year “Deathly Hallows” released as a book (Summer 2007 for those curious).¹¹ The book itself was horribly forbidden. But all I wanted to read at this time were the books set in the DnD universe.¹² I had a Forgotten Realms book and my dad turned it over and saw the “Wizards of the Coast” logo. After that all “Wizards of the Coast” books were hard “NOs” and I was forbidden from reading them. Before this time, I had got halfway through the Dragon Lance series before being given a hard “NO” and chided for even considering the books. Ironically, they were recommended to me by a fundie librarian my parents knew. I guess they just weren’t fundie enough for my family.¹³

When it came time for me to leave the nest my parents did try to get me out there to find an occupation that would work for me.¹⁴ Especially my junior year of high school they really pushed me to consider what would work for me; and they did take time to set up PSAT testing, job shadowing, and took me to a college fair. Dad took the only road trip I’ve ever been on with him, and we visited Liberty and Pensacola Christian College.¹⁵

Such a weird experience. I’m glad my dad took me. But he had a very set mentality for how the experience was going to happen. No deviation from his schedule was allowed. Liberty was having a concert with two of my top artists at the time, Toby Mac and Switchfoot, and I really wanted to attend. Dad insisted we visit PCC for multiple days in order to get the true college experience. This was non-negotiable. And we missed the concert at Liberty by one day. We also HAD to attend church at Liberty on Sunday. And I could clearly tell my dad was unamused by the “secular music” (Switchfoot) played before the service and the casual nature of the service. We also took one day to interact with Liberty as compared to multiple days spent at PCC. The large environment and student body overwhelmed me, and I didn’t feel like I would be welcome in their nursing program. I think they had one AMAB person graduate the year before. And I didn’t want to be the only AMAB person in my graduating class. It was also abundantly clear which college I was suppose to be attending. My dad’s social cues and body language were very clear. Liberty was too “secular” and way too expensive.¹⁶ ¹⁷

Later my Junior year of high school, we took a family trip to rule out Cedarville. Also stopping to visit Ken Ham’s creation museum on this same trip.¹⁸ Overall, I enjoyed the college campus and was impressed with their nursing program. But I was still under the impression that the $20,000+ cost per year was not viable.¹⁹

However, my family completely stepped away from supporting my higher education endeavors my senior year of high school. I was left to navigate the process of applications and putting my transcripts together for colleges. My mom adamantly denies this, but I had considered multiple “secular” colleges my senior year. Every time discussion of a college outside of fundamentalism came up, she would push back reminding me that college professors and the people attending “secular” colleges would push me away from my faith. And where and how would I find interaction with Christian individuals if I were to attend these types of colleges. Message received, mom, no secular colleges for me. /s

My mom and dad considered splitting during my senior year. And they would fight frequently, at least when dad decided to be present. Work is such a convenient excuse for why you can’t be home. My mom was suicidal; my family was a mess. Apparently also during this time multiple individuals had threated to call CPS unless we moved out of our house. The black mold and hoarding had swallowed our home, and it truly wasn’t a healthy environment. I don’t think it helped that losing her kids to CPS was a deep-seated fear of my mother’s.²⁰

I kind of gave up searching for colleges and settled into the idea of attending PCC. I had already applied there my junior year of high school, and I hadn’t pulled my application yet. I never applied to a college outside of that.²¹ I wasn’t receiving direction or help from my family (they were either too depressed or too busy fighting to help), and I was focused on finishing out high school and my career center classes.

I quietly finished out my school year. Thanks to my grandparents (on both sides of the family) I received a laptop, and I sat down and waited for my college life to start. I had applied to a couple local jobs, but no one wants a temporary worker who can’t work Wednesday Nights or on Sundays. Honestly the summer was a blur. I worked for a couple of local berry farms (strawberry and blueberry) and off and on for my dad. Then August arrived and I was off to Pensacola Christian College.

Positive Memories

You’re going to notice it’s pretty similar to my last post. My PSP was my friend this point in my life. I had even been allowed to purchase a new PSP after the disk drive in my old one died. That sucker played opossum for a couple months and then me and my brother figured out that it was still working. Me and my brother spent hours playing Metal Gear Peace Walker together (Local wireless functionality of the PSP. We still didn’t have anything more than dial up).²²

Books, I used books as a way to cope with my depression. Hard to remember how much life sucks when you are deep in book 2 of 14 in the Wheel of Time series. My senior year of high school I also had unfettered access to the library, and I started checking out Manga and comics. Something I was never allowed to do before that time.

Music. I really started to try to actually listen to non-Christian music for the first time in my life. I was really into Christian rock in high school, and this bridged right over into bands like Breaking Benjamin and Three Days Grace. I only had limited access to music though; I would check out from the library while my mom was distracted and hide the CD’s between my books on the way out. Oooh so rebellious sneaking out my Rascal Flatts and Breaking Benjamin CD’s. (Our library had a pretty limited CD collection, but it was still a nice break from the constant CCM²³ in our house. My PSP also functioned as an MP3 player, and I could listen privately to the CD’s (after I ripped them).²⁴ ²⁵

My times spent with Ken and another kid from Deckerville Bible church.²⁶ Both of my friends were really into hunting. I have some good memories spent hanging out in a hunting blind waiting for a deer or goose to come by.²⁷ ²⁸

After my junior year of high school, I worked at a boy scout camp in northern Michigan. My mom wasn’t happy about it, but she consented and let me go. This was probably my first taste of independence. The work was hard, but I met some kids my age and was broadly exposed to culture as a whole. Many things that I was shielded from my whole life. My love for System of a Down comes from one of the kids I worked directly with (Thanks Alex, you really were kind to a sheltered little homeschool kid).

Retrospective Thoughts

My family was going through a lot as a direct result of the teaching and beliefs that they had been taught and the faith communities that they were a part of. My mother’s health both physically and mentally suffered because of the beliefs she held. I honestly didn’t even touch on my mother’s physical health, but she suffered multiple miscarriages throughout this period of my life. She was told by multiple doctors that she should have her uterus removed for health reasons, and violently fought against that idea. She was unwilling to surrender her reproductive organs even if she had cancer.²⁹ Something I attribute to the quiverfull theology she had been taught. Even though her body was incapable of producing children she refused to let go of the idea that god could still potentially work a miracle and grant her another child. If she removed her reproductive organs, she would be lacking faith or trust in the divine.³⁰

She deeply fought against any type of medication or treatment for her mental health even while acknowledging that she was unable to care for her children in this depressive state. I have both sympathy and anger towards my mother over this topic. True emotional neglect and medical neglect occurred for many of her children during this time, and she knew it was happening. But her faith demanded that she avoid any type of tradition treatments for psychological aliments. She was both a victim and a perpetrator of harm.

You’ll notice there is very little criticism of my father here. It’s not due to his better behavior but rather due to his complete disappearance in our lives. Some of this was unavoidable due to the long hours of farming, but he also intentionally avoided the house and would spend his off hours at his father’s house instead of with his children and his wife. What I do remember of my father from this time is a man characterized by his emotional distance and sharp unexpected outbursts of anger. Slinging degrading and abusive words towards his wife.

The times when I needed my parents the most was where when they were the most distant from me. I can remember a feeling of closeness for my parents in my single digit years of life, but that feeling quickly disappeared as I got older. I needed their academic and emotional help as a teen, and they were too busy fighting their own emotional battles to be there for me.³¹

I also criticize and point to theology that taught me that I was a broken person completely and totally deprived. I also know that the theological concepts that told me that I could control my every thought led to a lot of obsessive-compulsive behavior in my teens. And any theology that allows a child to believe and expect suffering as part of their life is bullshit. A child should never believe that pain is a deserved and needed part of their life (from a parent or from a deity). All of these concepts led me to a really rough patch of my life where I believed I was a wicked deviant in need of punishment from my god. Where I would obsessively try to reach out to my god for help and for salvation from my depraved nature. Feeling more shame and guilt when this cry for help failed to help me control my “wicked” mind.

Highs (and Lows) of High School Ages 15-18 (Part 5)

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