Rip After Dark

I’ve spent a lot of my life searching.

I never felt settled or truly held in the idea of the Divine. And when you feel like you aren’t accepted or valued by God, you tend to live a painful life of loneliness.

When I was no more than seven years old, I remember looking into the sky and letting my mind wander into the stars. I would follow the clouds past the atmosphere, beyond the planets and galaxies, exploring a universe that felt endless.

I knew the world was much larger than me.

And I knew I was a very, very small part of it.

The Fear That Followed

As I grew older and was exposed to many different religions and denominations, I began to feel afraid.

I learned about sin.

About human mistakes.

About what happens “after it all.”

I saw depictions of flames, agonized souls, a bloody and beaten Messiah — and I feared what was beyond me. I was told I should be afraid.

God was described as vengeful. Full of wrath.

I was taught that I was already on my way to hell just for being born.

So, as any child would do…

I shut the door.

I closed myself off from the fear, and my nervous system chose flight.

For the next ten years of my life, I was alone.

Survival Mode

What began as childhood sadness grew into lifelong depression. That depression evolved into intense anxiety that followed me everywhere.

When the nights were especially heavy, I would cry until I went numb — relying on my body’s stress response to regulate itself after the cortisol spikes. I wasn’t living. I was surviving.

I remember:

Begging to be free Years of suicidal ideation Hoping someone would see the depth of my darkness The days of self-harm Regretful impulses Unhealthy coping mechanisms

All of it added to my loneliness and self-hatred.

I created a version of myself I both despised and couldn’t forgive.

And when I called out to something… I got nothing in response.

Postpartum & The Breaking Point

Fast forward to 2025.

I found myself empty, heartbroken, and numb in postpartum with my second child — surrounded again by the demons of ideation.

I love my children. I want so desperately to watch them grow.

But I couldn’t stand living in pain anymore.

So I searched again.

New Age spirituality was trending. I tried self-medication in many forms. I read tarot cards. Lit candles. Built altars.

And still… I found myself back in the same darkness.

I gave up on everything.

Until my husband said he wanted to find a church.

Walking Into Church With Shackles

Now we were sitting in a sanctuary.

He came with an open heart.

Mine was covered in years of shackles.

Every time I stepped into that church, I felt exposed — like I stuck out, like everyone could see that I was confused.

I had a 12-Step Recovery Bible my dad gave me a year before. I read it for maybe a week and barely touched it again.

I came to church spiritually naked — but still with my arms crossed over my heart.

And yet…

The church was filled with the kind of Southern Christians I’ve come to love. Their arms were as open as their hearts. They treated you like they’d known you forever.

What started as a quick visit became our church home.

We got involved quickly.

The pastor teaches the Bible strictly and doesn’t stray. He answers my husband’s curious and unapologetic questions with patience and depth.

Normally, I’m the talkative one. The spokesperson.

But here, I sit behind my husband.

Quiet.

Head down.

Listening.

The Exhaustion of Being Your Own God

I’ve been my own God for so long.

I carried the weight.

I fought to forgive myself.

To love myself.

To find a will to live.

And oh, how lonely it’s been.

There’s a difference between being God and God being within you.

When you are your own god, you are tasked with creation.

Can you imagine being a finite human trying to create the wind and the trees? Trying to fill the earth with water? To bless the land and sea with life?

I tried.

It’s impossible.

But when you acknowledge you are a product of a Higher Power — that God dwells within you — your only task is to carry out.

I am loaded with gifts and talents.

Instead of exhausting myself trying to create from nothing, I’m learning to pull from the Source.

To follow the blueprint.

Faith, Works & Surrender

God is more than me.

I may be attached to the Source. I may have the power to change my life.

But what is life without God?

To lay yourself down and hand it over.

To say, “I can’t do this.”

And to truly believe that Someone else can.

That’s God.

I’ve worked and worked and worked and worked — believing “faith without works is dead.”

But I’ve learned something else too:

Works without faith are dead.

Manifesting and mysticism aren’t separate from the Most High.

But if you’re walking a path where you’ve become your own savior — your own creator — your own god…

I gently suggest:

Stop.

Find your center.

Because being your own god is a tiresome, depreciating life.

And it’s unnecessary.

Thank you for reading.

See you next time.