My counselor and I were discussing how I tend to exist in a fight-or-flight state, as well as how I bottle emotions until I erupt. She was explaining how it’s important for me to recognize my emotions and manage them lest they negatively manage me. She stepped over to her bookcase and pulled a workbook off the shelf. She proceeded to tell me she thought it would be a good idea for me to work through the book, reading the material and answering the questions. Instead of focusing on what she was saying, though, I was fighting through the internal tension that manifested as soon as she pulled the book from its shelf.

Upon first glance, the workbook resembled dozens of Bible studies I’d done through the years. A simple, paperback 8 1/2 x 11 book with blank spaces on the inside for answering questions made my stomach tighten with knots. All I could concentrate on was the dread I was feeling and wondering if the book was going to cause me to feel the shame I’ve been working so diligently to overcome. I feared not having the right answers or what might happen if I questioned the material.

When she finished talking, I told her how I was responding to the sight of the book. She proceeded to read parts of the Table of Contents and Vocabulary section aloud to assure me there was nothing religious in the book. It was simply a tool to help me name, claim and manage my emotions. I agreed I would purchase the book and do the work.

Hours later, all I could think about when I considered going to the store to buy the workbook was the names of authors whose biblical studies reduced me to feeling like a worthless piece of shit. I thought about the groups of women I sat among who turned on me when I began questioning what I’d always believed. I thought about all the loss and heartache I’ve dealt with since leaving church two years ago.

I finally took the plunge and purchased the workbook. It took a few days, but I eventually started reading and answering questions.

It’s been several weeks, and I’m only working on chapter five. I struggled through the first four chapters and experienced quite a bit of anxiety as I realized how much of a negative impact religion had on how I viewed emotions. In fact, I finally recognized that religion taught me to judge my emotions instead of teaching me to validate and manage them.

Later, as I was discussing my findings with my counselor, she mentioned that my reaction to the workbook had been much like that of someone with PTSD.

Is there such a thing as Bible Study PTSD? I don’t know. But I have heard of Religious Trauma Syndrome and Post-Traumatic Church Syndrome, both of which I can relate to in almost every way.

What does this ultimately mean?

It means that I made the correct decision in stepping away from church, in taking a break. It means that the fundamentalist religious background I experienced as a child took deep root within me, and deeply-rooted beliefs take quite a while to unearth and sort through. It means that attempts to shame, manipulate, or otherwise convince me back into a belief system or church attendance no longer hold the power they once did. It means the work I am doing is healing work and that the anxiety will eventually subside. And it means I will slowly, but surely find my way off the fence and out of the lukewarm spew.