unravelling

This week I started sorting through emails connected to our previous church. It wasn't much fun. Early messages to the senior leaders, a husband and wife team, reveal a trusting, affectionate, effusive version of myself. Knowing now what I didn't know then, I struggle to read these emails. "Protect yourself", I want to scream. "It's not safe".

Back then, I don't hear. I write and share my heart and my love, wading into the swamp. I'm trapped without ever noticing the prison bars. I keep on loving and giving until I have nothing left to give. I work as the 18-25's leader for two years. By then I am exhausted physically, emotionally and mentally. The male leader persuades me not to visit a doctor. Some weeks later I remember crying during a planning meeting. Within days, the female leader visits me. Gently she explains that she believes God is asking her to give me the opportunity to step down from my position. I am so worn down I agree and leave...no sick pay, no job, no support. Just exhaustion and brokenness.   

But still I don't realise. Another staff member visits me after a meeting with the leaders during which she has been shouted at for 'an offence'. She is heartbroken, exhausted and frightened. I recognise myself after a similar incident. A few weeks later the male leader talks to me about this other woman. Cautiously I ask questions. "I'm not a bully" he snaps. "I really want to believe that's true" I reply. He marches away and does not talk to me for four months.

And I still don't understand. I am wretched. Desperate to make amends. Eventually I am allowed back into the fold. Then they offer my husband a job. On the verge of announcing this role to the church we meet with the male leader. I raise a few concerns about the work load and the meeting doesn't go well. Within 24 hours the job offer is withdrawn. I am heartbroken, blaming myself and suffering increased anxiety. We attempt to recover, but struggle. Most people don't know what has happened and we are forbidden from telling them "to protect the church". I worry that people will notice I am not quite right and I will get into trouble. I start antidepressants because I am now experiencing constant hyper vigilance and anxiety as post traumatic stress begins to develop.

Then I start my counselling course. I meet other Christians and explain my story. My tutor affirms me, cares for me and occasionally he says "I feel angry on your behalf". This is a revelation. Angry on my behalf? Something has happened to me which deserves your anger? Light begins to break through but I do not ever wish to leave my church. I have loved the people that make this church for twenty years. I still love the leaders. My children are so happy here. It cannot be right to leave. 

I read a book about adult and workplace bullying. It describes everything that I have experienced from these leaders and the environment they have created. Cautiously I start to speak to a few people who I think might help without stirring gossip. My biggest hope is that, if we pray and speak the truth in love, things could change. I do not believe these leaders mean to bully. I believe that if I can help them to understand what is happening they will be shocked and sad and will do everything to ensure nobody experiences bullying again. I trust them.

I never get to speak the truth in love. Instead my friends "speak the truth in love to me". 'You are wrong' they say. 'He has spoken to us, he doesn't understand your hurtful accusations'. 'Why won't you spend time with him?'. 'You are being bitter and divisive, you are deceived'. 'He is God's appointed leader and as such you must honour, respect and submit to him'. One friend arranges to meet with me for coffee. She has borrowed the book about bullying. I haven't seen her for three months which is unusual but I am looking forward to catching up and discussing the book. It becomes a nightmare. 'My friends have been speaking' she says. 'We are worried about your behaviour'. 'It is not right that you are talking about things'. 'He has made mistakes, but you need to let things go'. I am terrified, I am experiencing emotional flashbacks and feel as if I am in his office being shouted at. I tell her I am frightened, but she doesn't appear to believe me. I panic, I say things she doesn't like in an attempt to get her to understand. I swear.  She tells me she has to leave, I apologise. I ask about what we do to sort this out. She says she has to leave. Looking back, it was a horrible experience for her too. She has never spoken to me again.

I see a friend at the school gate. I am upset. She says she has seen the other friend and she knows what has happened. Later that day I receive a text from yet another friend saying that I probably shouldn't visit her the next day as she is worried I am going to behave badly. I am sobbing on the floor, I feel as if my world is falling apart. I have never felt so frightened or so desolate. The husband of the lady from the coffee shop replies to a message from my husband saying that I need to be able to receive feedback from people. I send an email to apologise. A message in response says it does not go far enough. I wonder how we got here? I begin to realise that no one believes me. I am emotionally unstable, over-sensitive and untrustworthy. Why would anyone believe me over a dynamic and charismatic church leader who has built a church of hundreds?

A couple of days later my husband receives a text from one of the elders, another close friend. In the light of recent events he is asked to meet with the elders. In the meantime he is asked not to be part of the worship team. 

We write a letter. I visit my doctor and we increase my medication. We never attend a service at that church again.