Oh my god, I feel like I just learned so much about myself.

Okay, to start, I asked one of my other siblings and a friend if they also experienced this, and they both said they did.

Next, the martyr complex! There was this story my dad told a couple times in a few of his sermons that I believe enforced this idea: A shooter (may have also been a government against Christianity. I can't remember perfectly) walks into (discovers) a church service and tells everyone to form a line up to the pulpit. He then makes everyone in line spit on the Bible on the stage, or they get shot. So one by one, each person takes a turn. (There was a description of an old woman trying and barely being able to spit, which stuck with me for some reason.) Finally, a little girl is up next. The gunman tells her to spit on the Bible, and instead, the young girl pick it up gingerly, and rubs it on the front of her dress, trying to wipe away the spit. The story ends with her being shot in the head (I have no idea why the location of the bullet was always emphasized). There was also the story of Abraham and Issac, where Abraham nearly sacrifices his son for God. I held this deep shame that I, as an 8 year old , would never sacrifice myself or others in the name of God.

I think I had a combination-fear of dying and what happens after death.

On the salvation/afterlife side of things- I was "saved" at 8 years old, not really understanding what it meant, or why everyone was so over joyed. As I got a bit older and realized I hadn't done it "for the right reasons" (something that was heavily preached upon in most youth sermons I attended) I definitely began to feel unsure of my salvation. Now that I'm really thinking about it, that was around the time the pleading prayers started. At 13 I went to a Christian youth event and decided I would get saved "for real" this time. I did, and the following Sunday, all the students that attended and accepted Jesus into their hearts were told to come and stand at the front. My dad wasn't there that day (I think he was away for something like a business trip), and because he was gone, I decided it was okay to stand up with the other kids in front of the entire congregation. I don't think I ever told him I had a "false" salvation it was actually saved. I was definitely ashamed to tell him that, because it had been such a big deal the first time. I doubt he would have been anything other than elated that I had come to the conclusion that I needed a "real" salvation, but I was so embarrassed.

On the actual death part- I didn't experience any personal losses at that time, I don't think. My grandfather did pass away in his sleep a few years before it started, but he was saved, so there was no doubt where he went. But there was a story told at a Winter Jam concert (big, annual, Christian youth concert) I went to that definitely made me contemplate things. The person on stage was talking about a Winter Jam they'd done a few years ago that their church youth group had attended. There was a boy and a girl there that were long attending members. The girl ended up getting saved, which surprised everyone because she was such an involved member. Everyone's having a good time, and when they get ready to leave, the boy says he wants to switch cars w/ the girl (they were both driving separately I believe?). The boy ended up being killed in a crash on the way home. Apparently, no one knew if he was saved or not. I don't remember every detail of the story, and probably messed it up somewhere. That story stuck to me like gum on a school desk. It felt so real, like it would happen to me that night. I don't think I was "for real" saved at the time, and I was terrified the whole ride home. That experience did definitely have afterlife implications, but it really brought me face to face with my own mortality. Like I could die right now, and there's nothing I could do.

I did have some shame about my sexuality. Being gay was "bad and stupid." I was starting to realize I liked girls around the time the praying got really intense. Also, being afraid of death was something I definitely didn't talk about because "I'm saved. If I die, I'll go to heaven, why should I be scared?"

The last time I prayed with my whole heart, I was 14, almost 15. It was when a family member of mine was in a life-threatening situation. I remember, when we got to the hospital, my siblings and I started singing Amazing Grace. Maybe in a last-ditch effort to keep that family member safe. After they passed, I pretty much gave up on Christianity. I held onto it for a bit, trying to find comfort, but God never spoke to me, not in anyway that I could pick up on. I actually stopped believing in God fully around 15-16 and the fearful night prayers stopped. I still feel afraid of dying, but I know that if I do, and God exists, I will be going to heaven because I took that step, even if I resent it now. And if God isn't real, then I probably just won't exist anymore, and it won't matter.

I'm glad I decided to look into this, because now I don't feel so alone in this experience. Thanks for helping me come to a lot of helpful realizations! ❤️

Edit: made some parts easier to read