Healing From My Adventist Childhood

Content Warning: Self Harm

I was born a fourth generation Seventh-day Adventist, on both of my parents' sides. So it runs DEEP. Up until I was around 13, I went to an Adventist school. I had about 12 kids in my class and I’d see most of them at church too.

This was my bubble. I was a pretty anxious kid, but my parents never really noticed. From a young age, I strived for perfection. I got straight A's, was the valedictorian, and was always the recipient for the “Bible award” at school—literally like five years in a row!

I remember having a huge fear of hell. I never felt like I was “good enough” for heaven, even though I did everything I was “supposed to do”. It was terrifying. I’d pray every night until I fell asleep and was scared of what would happen if I didn’t. I remember teachers teaching us about the last days and running into the wild.

I was terrified. Nobody could tell though, because I was the best kid ever in church and school. When I was entering high school, my parents decided to move me and my twin brother into a private all-denomination Christian school closer to home. It was a hard decision for them, but they felt it was best.

This is where things got weird… I lacked so many social skills. Now I had 25 people in my class (still small, but felt massive to me). I remember being terrified to go to a school that wasn’t Adventist, because I thought that by going to a “Sunday-worshipping school” we were secretly funding the pope and Catholic Church with the tuition money.

I thought that if I made good friends at this school, the Sunday Law would come and they would all know I was Adventist and turn on me. I was 13 with all these thoughts going through my mind. Eventually, I made some friends but always felt I was different. It was super awkward explaining to other Christians why I couldn’t join their sports teams, attend birthday parties on Sabbath, go shopping with them, or even watch a movie.

I feel like I slowly started to deconstruct in those five years. The more I got to know “Sunday worshippers” the more I liked them. I went to Sunday church youth groups and the vibe was so chill. It was crazy of me to think none of these God-fearing people would go to heaven because they didn’t worship on the Sabbath, and I started to doubt this belief I had grown up with. (By the way, I missed my dry grad because it was on Friday night. So sad!)

I got a full scholarship to Burman University in 2017. It was hard to refuse the offer, and I had some church friends going, so I went back into the SDA education system. I was in pre-med and had a 3.9 GPA my first year. I attended vespers, church, was back for my curfew (yes, curfew), and never drank. I applied to work at an SDA camp after my first year.

This was the year when things started to crumble… I had never even been in a relationship during this time. There were a lot of guys who liked me, but to be honest I was scared to get close to them because I thought all they wanted was sex and this scared me haha (thanks purity culture). I also had severe anxious attachment by this point and was showing signs of borderline personality disorder. I was so overworked at camp and my mental health took a dive.

By the end of the summer, I felt dead inside despite being in a religious setting every day. I went back to Burman in the fall as a Residence Hall Assistant. The rules were CRAZY! I could spend a lot of time just talking about the rules I enforced. I remember a bunch of RAs were fired for attending a party off campus (some didn’t even drink). They had mandated “therapy” afterwards, and no one else on campus wanted to hire them.

In my second year, something changed. I had feelings for someone for the first time in my life. I was trying to maintain my GPA, and my anxiety started to turn into depression. I had no idea what was happening. I started vomiting and having severe panic attacks, sometimes even in public. After throwing up my food quite often, I went to the doctor and was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was put on anti-depressants.

This was never talked about in the church, so I didn’t know anyone else who had gone through this. I called my parents and told them what was going on. They told me all I needed was to pray more and not to take the meds. I felt like I had failed God. Even my professor told my to mediate and pray more when I told him why I wasn’t doing well on my quizzes.

I thought I had done everything right. I prayed and was a good Adventist. So why was I getting so mentally ill? I must just be that sinful. Around late fall of my second year, I started to have thoughts of self harm and started acting on them. I wore long sleeves, but eventually others found out and the gossip started. I ended up dropping out for the first time and went home. I had nightmares for a very long time. The same dream, over and over again.

I went to therapy for the first time and learned a bit about the emotional manipulation and gaslighting I had experienced growing up. I started to become bitter and resentful towards my childhood. Eventually I went back to Burman, but I started drinking and smoking weed, even as a Student Dean. I felt like a fraud.

2020 came and I decided to go home. Now while living back home with my parents, my views of the church had shifted. It was noticeable. This was when I started to get into major fights with everyone around me. My dad found a White Claw under my bedroom sink and accused me of bringing the devil into the house. He told me I’m not the spiritual leader I used to be. I went to the ER that night due to a self harm attempt. I went to the ER three times before finally getting a psychiatrist and was put on mood stabilizers.

I started going to the gym and healing. I hadn’t attended church for a while because of Covid, and guiltily realized I didn’t miss it. I decided to drop out of Burman completely and became a personal trainer.

My SDA bubble was “popped”. I met my boyfriend at the gym. We have now been together three years and I live with him (and no, we aren’t married haha). Through dating an agnostic man and coming out of my bubble, I’ve seen how fucked up so many things were growing up. Even now, I can’t sleep sometimes with my religious guilt. My sex life is complicated because I feel a lot of religious shame there, too.

I try to keep a healthy distance from some of my relatives to avoid awkward conversations, but I finally feel free for the first time in my life. I grieve for my childhood, but I've never felt more alive.

I'm still healing and figuring out who I am, but it has been a journey. I'm 25 now, and don’t know a lot of people who have experienced what I have with the church and mental health.

I believe the church has a lot of amazing people and I’ve seen great things. But ultimately, the fundamental beliefs harmed my mental health and fueled my anxiety from a young age. And I can’t ignore that.