r/ReligiousTrauma

Hey iedereen ik wou even een verhaal met jullie Meedelen van een jong meisje dat in een periode geraakt werd door zware waswasa -odc en dacht dat dit een straf was van God. Ze had voor deze periode een hele goeie en sterke relatie met Allah, na de waswasa herkende ze haar eigen persoon niet meer, ze heeft spijtig genoeg beledigen gedaan naar Allah toe en woorden van kufr uitgesproken, deze periode duurde bijna twee jaar, ze dacht al die tijd dat dit een bestraffing was van Allah, ze was very weg van religie, zware depressie, zelfmoordegedachten, ging bijna niet naar buiten en sprak hier nooit met iemand over. Na bijna langer dan een jaar in deze periode te zitten was ze hier echt ziek van, een dag in haar kamer wist ze niet wat haar bezielde en ze heeft moge Allah haar vergeven gezegd dat ze Allah wou vern\*etigen. Ze besef de later pas wat ze zei, sommige geleerden zeggen dat er voor het beledigen van Allah geen vergeving meer is en deze persoon een ongelovige is en misschien zelf de doodstraf moet krijgen. Deze periode is nu al twee jaar geleden maar ze heeft plots flashbacks, ze wil terug keren naar de Islam naar Allah en tawba verrichten in de hoop dat er voor haar nog hoop is. Maar Momenteel voel ze zich zeer slecht, ze is bang van de hel en dat Allah haar terug keer niet zal accepteren, ook was tijdens de periode haar gedrag tegen over Allah niet correct, nadat ze uit de periode kwam kom ze niet geloven wat ze allemaal zei en hoe ze haar zelf in deze situatie heeft laten mee slepen zonder hulp te vragen. Ze is bang dat ze in staat van kufr zal sterven wegens de uitspraken en de meningen van sommige geleerden. Wat kan ik haar aanraden te doen? Ze heeft het gevoel dat ze onvergeefelijk is….

Date Posted (Pacific time): 2026-08-17 02:37:19 AM

Direct Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/islam/comments/1vqnlk4/beledigen\_van\_allah/

but I know I can’t. I know I’ll probably almost break down right then and there. I hate it so much…

I also know even if I do make it through the service I’ll feel like I “have” to go or else God will hate me.

im not particularly Christian anymore but I just want the community, the vibes. dress up kind of nice, the ability to go somewhere and hear a nice message about God and go how feeling good about it.

but deep down I know I can’t, o shouldn’t had I probably won’t. I just so desperately wish I could without it shattering my mental peace

I had a really shitty experience at a Christian camp, and I honestly don’t know how to feel about it even now.
I was told that I was in a cult.
That I was brainwashed.
And then they got a kid to tell me that I was a lesbian and that if I prayed those feelings away, I wouldn’t be damned to hell.
That part really messed with me.
The leadership eventually addressed the whole “cult” accusation, but it was way too late.
And the whole lesbian/hell thing?
That was never properly dealt with.
I still don’t understand how something that serious could happen and then basically be left unaddressed.
I’m not posting this to attack Christianity. My faith is important to me.

Let me start off by saying that I (35 F)grew up atheist. Family wasn't religious. Science was king... heck.. I even have a degree in a scientific field! That was until I discovered Islam, and it changed my life for the better... in a lot of ways, in some ways... not so much.

My newfound faith has given me a sense of peace and purpose that I have never felt (other than the sense of purpose gained from being a mother to my two children) in my life! My health is better, and my mental health has greatly improved.

I have been Muslim for a little over a year and a half now.

So that's a little context... now onto the moral dilemma...

I was a new revert to Islam of around 5 months before I worked up the courage to tell my parents. I sent them a long message (perhaps in hindsight, it wasn't the best way to go about it) stating how I had taken my Shahada and I was prepared to answer any questions/concerns they may have , etc etc.

Within half an hour of me sending that message, my father turned up at my address, pretended to be calm (it was a ruse for me to let him in) proceeded to give me a lecture about how Islam is evil etc etc and said some really disgusting things about how I'm putting "his granddaughter in danger because those people can't be trusted" amongst many other racist and vile things and slapped me around the face and left. I've not seen or spoken to them since, I did speak to one of my sisters (who's very much close to my parents) until about 8 months ago, but I soon realised everything I was venting out too her was being filtered back to my parents, so I cur contact with her too. They also cut contact with my children! (NEVER AT ANY POINT DID I SAY/CLAIM THEY COULD NOT SEE THEM FYI) which has devastated them.

To add in, my parents are extremely racist and the types to believe every false , far right claim that is fed too them.

Anyway...

Fast forward to about 2 weeks ago, I get a call from a withheld number...

I answer

It's my sister...

"Dad has cancer"

Me : "oh..."

And I hang up the phone.

I've not attempted contact.

I could forgive my father for abandoning me, but I can't forgive him for walking away from my children...

Am I the A'hole here?

I was prescribed ketamine to try to help with my anxiety and chronic pain, but I ended up abusing it pretty heavily over the last week and used almost my entire month’s supply.
I was trying to avoid relying so heavily on Xanax, but unfortunately when the ketamine wears off, I end up needing Xanax just to get through the anxiety and physical symptoms. I’ve been dealing with what I believe may be “K-cramps,” horrible body pain, intense anxiety, and really awful existential thoughts. It has become a vicious cycle and I feel physically and mentally exhausted.

I took my last large ketamine dose (800 mg) almost 24 hours ago.
I’ve also had some pretty bad PTSD episodes during sessions as well
Last night I ended up taking about 5 mg of Xanax because I was struggling so badly with the cramps and anxiety and was desperately trying to sleep.

I also have severe agoraphobia, so the thought of going to the ER or anywhere physically absolutely terrifies me plus I can’t really afford it. I’m scared of being stuck there, scared something is seriously wrong with me, and I have a lot of fear around dying and existential/religious thoughts and trauma that make everything feel even more overwhelming.

I spoke with my psychiatrist yesterday and was completely honest with her. She told me that she doesn’t manage Xanax tapers and unfortunately didn’t know who I should contact for one.

I have maybe a month’s worth of Xanax left if I were somehow able to stay around 2 mg/day, plus a small amount of 0.5 mg Klonopin. I’m now sitting here trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do, and I know trying to design my own taper isn’t necessarily safe.

I’m trying to find out what type of doctor/service I should be looking for.. addiction medicine?, a psychiatrist who specializes in benzodiazepine tapering, a detox program, etc. and whether anyone has been in a similar situation

I feel absolutely awful and physically debilitated right now. I also stopped the ketamine because the side effects have become completely unbearable but the after effects are awful as well.

If you’ve been through something similar, I’d really appreciate hearing what kind of medical help actually worked for you or how you got through it.

I’m also horrified about a clinic because they seem to just rip people off everything while not going slow as well as the fact I have a whole house hold and buisness to run from home. I’m really shooken and lost

Hi everyone, I wanted to share a story with you about a young girl who went through a period plagued by severe *waswasa* (intrusive thoughts/OCD) and believed it was a punishment from God. Before this period, she had a very strong relationship with Allah, but after the *waswasa set in, she no longer recognized herself; sadly, she uttered insults against Allah and spoke words of kufr (disbelief). This period lasted nearly two years, during which she constantly believed she was being punished by Allah. She became estranged from her faith, suffered from severe depression and suicidal thoughts, rarely left the house, and never spoke to anyone about it. After more than a year of this, she was truly tormented by the situation; one day in her room—in a moment where she didn't know what had come over her—she said (may Allah forgive her) that she wanted to dstroy Allah. She only realized later what she had said. Some scholars state that there is no forgiveness for insulting Allah, that such a person becomes a disbeliever, and might even face the death penalty. It has been two years since that time, but she is suddenly experiencing flashbacks; she wants to return to Islam and to Allah, and to perform *tawbah* (repentance) in the hope that there is still hope for her. However, she currently feels terrible; she is afraid of Hell and fears that Allah will not accept her return. Her behavior toward Allah during that period was also inappropriate; after emerging from that phase, she could hardly believe the things she had said or how she had allowed herself to be dragged into that situation without seeking help. She fears dying in a state of *kufr* because of those utterances and the opinions held by some scholars. What can I advise her to do? She feels that she is beyond forgiveness...

I’ve been shutdown for a while now. I’ve been able to cry pretty much everyday for about 4 months now but I still get triggered. But crying is pretty much my only form of expression. I can’t get angry and if do it just bring more numbness. It’s like my ‘anger’ really isn’t anger because if it were I would be experiencing it in a different way. I wouldn’t just try to get angry to get over it. I would really be angry, and it’s hard to know what that looks like. Anytime I try to work on myself the manager comes in and tries to make it perfect. I’ll feel guilty, so I’ll do more and it just makes me feel terrible. My OCD made religion like a cult for me. I don’t really know what to do to be honest. I just feel pressured to get better and lord knows I’ll feel guilty I’m not doing enough and force myself to do something and just feel worse. I literally have the worst trigger I feel like I’m gonna pass out and have some aneurysm. There’s like an audible buzz in my brain and I’ll experience mental inflammation. What makes it all worse is that the suffering probably means nothing. There’s no more extra reward for it like I used to think. God isn’t gonna give me extra points or really do anything. But I always kinda hoped it would. I don’t know what to do. I got hip surgery a couple weeks ago and haven’t been doing much but I know the moment I can walk again my dad will just get pissed off im not doing anything and its gonna cause more stress. Im only 19 but the past 5 years of my life have been pretty poor due to religion. I just never said anything until I couldn’t take it. So many different people I became. So many lies and feelings of guilt to make myself Christian. I either need to suffer or need to perform. No in the middle. It’s not even my life anymore, doesn’t really feel like it ever was. My whole life it’s kinda felt like that. It was never debilitating though, religion is what really destroyed me at around 14. That’s when I told myself I knew who I was. Everything was black and white and I always had to be best and dedicated to the practice. I don’t know what to do I never really feel free at all.

I was a minister in the Church of Christ back in 2021. I got fired because I asked the church not to judge me for not coming into services while there was a risk of spreading COVID. They put up with it for a time, but they were definitely too influenced by the propaganda and got rid of me for putting "fear over faith." I was kind of a unicorn in that denomination, preaching on things like BLM and writing articles on how the delusional MAGA/Q Anon supporters fit the symbolism for having the mark of the beast by listening to the false prophets who encouraged them to worship the nation state/caesar.

Since then, I lost my mind. Kinda literally. I was taking Vyvanse to kind of correct my system--I had schizoaffective bipolar disorder and taking antipsychotics in the past was giving me some extreme avolition that made doing my daily tasks kind of difficult. I always felt like I was exhausting myself and not getting enough work done. I had ADHD, so my doctor didn't mind giving me the prescription. It resulted in a psychotic break, and my old Self was lost in April 2021. I eventually became homeless because of the church taking my livelihood from me, and holding down a job has been absolutely impossible with my symptoms. I know God's there, and He has continued to provide for me. But I am wondering what theological implications my story has. Did God judge me for standing by my beliefs and not going into worship? I don't think so, but there's an argument for that. Is He using me as an example of continued faith in the midst of suffering? Is it all just time and chance that have resulted in this? I rack my brain about such things. I'd like to hear your take on it, too. I know that'll be weighted by whatever your beliefs are on the sovereignty of God, but I'm still trying to figure it out myself.

If you want to know where I am today, I posted the following in [r/schizophrenia](/r/schizophrenia/) earlier.

The judge denied me for disability last year. I've reapplied, but the process takes so damn long. While schizophrenia isn't supposed to be progressive, it sure as hell seems to be in my case. I'm way more cognitively impaired these days. Everyone is shocked that I was somehow denied. I've tried to keep jobs. The longest I ever last is maybe a month. My memory and focus are terribly screwed, and I deal with constant voices who can be very funny but can also be terribly annoying. Avolition has never been worse. My mom set me up in an apartment and my dad pays some bills, but I'm so broke. I need paper towels, toiletries, cooking utensils, etc. and my mom and dad are not really able to just hand me money for that type of stuff all the time. I need new clothes; I've gained too much weight, and my shirts are all a little too tight. It just sucks being alone in the world and without any real way to take care of myself. I'm always relying on others, and I hate it. I don't want to come off as a beggar, but if anyone wants to DM me for my Cashapp to send me a few bucks that would be really cool of you. I'm thankful to have a roof over my head, but I'm still really struggling. My suicidal ideation has decreased as of late, but this still frigging sucks

I'm Christian, and since I was young, I believed that Jesus was coming back one day, so I tried my best to be what people call a 'good girl'. I do that until today. But on my 11 years old, I fell in love with my best friend, a girl, and I couldn't prevent it. I didn't confess her yet.

That doesn't matter, but anyways, today I was watching Tiktok, and on my fy appeared one of those videos about God, saying that Jesus Christ was coming back, remembering the sins and things, then I remembered.

Being homosexual is considerated a sin.

Since that, I only think about going to h3ll, to suffer for eternity for liking someone with the same gender as me.

I believe God is real, I believe the Paradise exists, I believe H3ll exists, I believe I'm going to H3ll for not being straight.

I do not want to go to H3ll just because of a stupid crush on a girl.

I’m 49F. My therapist just suggested I have religious trauma. It had never occurred to me that religion harmed me, really.

I grew up in a relatively conservative Christian denomination. We went to church twice a week and I was taught that god knows our every thought.

My whole life I have chased away every negative thought I had, concerned that someone knew everything I was thinking. Not surprisingly, I have pretty severe anxiety. To this day I have a voice in my head judging me harshly. I kind of thought everyone had the same experience until I discussed it in therapy and then brought it up with a few friends.

Does anyone else experience this? Any tips on moving past it?

It is so messed up that parents teach their kids that they are so horrible that a man had to be brutally tortured and killed to ‘save’ them.

I want to become a singer, because it’s been my childhood dream, but I don’t think that my mom would be happy about it. She’s clearly told me that she would be upset if I became a singer, and I don’t know what to do about that 😔😔

To have faith in God is kinda hard to be honest. But here was a period in my life last year where I needed God to show up for me, but the kind of faith I needed to have I felt was a lot.
Many times I wanted to give up, I had to gaslight myself to believe the unbelievable. Things that defy logic. I thought “Why should this thing happen, it’s not right. What are the chances”. I was basically more naive than a child. And I consider myself more of a realistic person so it was really hard.
Day after day went but absolutely nothing happened. Even when I felt stupid. I couldn’t even tell people that I’m trusting God for this thing because they’ll laugh or just feel pity for how naive and ignorant I sound.
I remember writing at the back of my church note.. “ Trusting God is not as easy as it seems”.
There was a time that I was in a church service and I just zoned out because I didn’t have energy to believe that day and doubt overwhelmed me. I was so sad, you could literally see it in my posture.
But I had to pick myself up again the next day because I had no choice. The one thing that kept me going was
“well I’m still in the process and there’s still time for something to happen when it’s over then you can finally give up on God but for now there’s still a chance”
And tbh it was mentally exhausting and draining. There were plenty days I cried.
BUT….. after the craziest most draining, gaslighting naive, ignorant child like belief I had, GOD ACTUALLY SHOWED UP 😭😭. It was like a dream. I still can’t believe it. My friend still can’t even believe it. I am eternally thankful 🙏🏽.

Now the thing is, I know God can do anything but if it requires me to go back to that state of mental battle and depression then I’m genuinely scared to believe again 😭. I know I sound ungrateful but I am grateful. If He didn’t come through then I probably wouldn’t be alive by now honestly. I just don’t know if I have the strength again.

Btw I’m talking about believing God for a particular thing , not my belief in God.

I’m a pastor’s kid, and I’m wondering how other PKs have reconciled chronic illness with their faith.

I was dedicated to God as a baby, baptized in the Holy Spirit at 12 and water baptized at 16.

At 17, I developed vitiligo. At 19, I developed endometriosis, had surgery, and spent years on hormone treatment. My vitiligo is still progressing.

Growing up in church, I was taught to see suffering through God’s glory. At 25, I even received a prophecy that my vitiligo would disappear. It didn’t.

Years later, I’m still asking: Where is God in this? I don’t want to keep finding ways to turn my suffering into a testimony. I want to be honest about the unanswered questions, the shame, and the disappointment.

For those of you who are PKs with chronic illness or other experiences that don't fit the usual Christian narrative:

How did you reconcile it with your faith? Did your understanding of God change?

Disclaimer: Written with help from GPT to organise my thoughts. The experiences and questions are my own.

I left my husband, and took our 2 small children (ages 1 and 3 at the time) after almost 8 years of marriage.

He was the charmer who everyone loved.

the ”good guy” who went to church and stood on his beliefs.

But at home, his degree of control, apathy & coldness, intolerance for diversity, refusal to accept any influence from my end, refusal to communicate or compromise in any way on anything, isolation from my friends and family, isolation from my culture, lack of financial help , and lack of household help increased drastically after kids.

He resented my education level & my profesional license and quit his work voluntarily after we had our kids. it felt like he was jealous of how I took care of them and turned himself into the 3rd child instead of stepping up (like I did) as a partner. He regressed in the relationship in every possible way expect for the control, the demands for me to do more, the demands to insidiously convert me into his conservative Christian practices and his unending complaints.

In retrospect I think he wanted to make a trad wife out of me, who would be completely dependent and n him and couple not leave even if I needed to for my own well being. He had us meet with his pastor prior to my graduating grad school to share with the pastor how unhappy this made him and the pastors advice was for me to quit grad school. oh- absolutely not.

when I communicated with him all of the things I already openly shared with him about myself abd within the relationship, such as our differences in spirituality, culture, my need for his participation in financial contribution, ownership of tasks and household contribution and the mental and emotional load and needing to see my family and friends more regularly: He responded with I have mental health problems and that I am sad because I am unwell and I need to see a psychiatrist.

Believing at the time that he as my husband had my best interests in mind- I went- 3 times to be evaluated, assessed, etc. the psychiatrist after spending almost 5 hours with me, found nothing diagnostically , nothing abnormal, nothing that needed medication or medical intervention. she noted that my address was appropriate for my circumstances: the horrible relationship. when I shared the news about no diagnosis with my then husband, he acted really disappointed and frustrated. As though he would have celebrated if I were given a psychiatric Dx.

The thing he hadn’t counted on though, with this encounter, was that it gave me (who at the time I was in a state of brokenness from the constant mental abuse and gaslighting and being told how I needed mental help — no longer trusting or believing myself) enough confidence that crested a crack the size of a thread through the wall of bullshit he had been feeding me all these years , to see enough of a glimmer of light and truth to start making plans to escape out of this psychological prison he had orchestrated. He was not compassionate toward the suffering he caused in the slightest, and the more pain he instilled the more seemingly satisfied he became.

when his plans of psych intervention and medication attempts failed, he tried a few times with religious intervention. one a few occasions he had us meet with a couple from church to counsel me, or push me into how he wanted me to be, live, and whom to be friends with etc- as well as how the things I believed (including culturally) were wrong. He also turned to only Christian counselors for essentially the same thing, but more subtle. this whole thing felt very wrong: because it was.

When I went to the hospital and was admitted for internal bleeding , he didn’t visit. when I went into labor and delivered our first, he left to get only himself food, after my 15 hrs of labor. What he counted on was squeezing the sanity and the life and the resources out of me and discarding me when I (to his hope)became ill or useless to him.

The way he was toward me a was constantly cold, apathetic, unapologetic, without compassion, unreasonable, unemotional (except for anger and months long silent treatments) demeanor. I was beginning to think this flat affect toward me was a personality flaw but in retrospect it was just psychological abuse. Because with others he was warm and charming. This was his way of punishing me when I voiced my opinion, raised concerns or communicated disagreement or a diversity of thought that differed in any way from his. he would even go into silent treatment for months when I didn’t do what he wanted. Sulking and manipulating until he would get his way, he called it “effective “. Until I saw enough.

It took me a few months to plan and arrange moving, and to also let him know about my moving out and separating, but once I left with the kids, I regained my strength, my joy, my love for life & all of the beautiful things I lost in myself living with him. my health and happiness returned & I have never been better.

Thinking back, I know if I had stayed and continued to allow him to manipulate me mentally and psychologically, I would have continued to decline mentally, and the thought of that is frightening. in retrospect he didn’t care about me as a person. he wanted a wife- appliance, took pride in his need to convert me into his (abusive, controlling) conservative Christian practices, and wanted to mold me into the thing he wanted…versus taking me as I am and seeing if the two of us were honestly compatible and aligned in all the ways necessary for a healthy long term relationship. but even in our 4 years of dating- he strung me along and was not honest or open about his religious goals, his lifestyle goals , his political preferences, his cultural biases, his views on family and friends, his personal prejudices, etc— while with him I was open and honest about mine. but these differences didnt matter to him , not because he was open minded, flexible or accepting, but because he had a plan to convert me entirely. how disgusting.

Now he is in social media complaining and blaming the court system (posting and calling judges and attorneys demonic and satanic) for not believing in “nuclear family”. He continues blaming them and anyone except himself for my leaving and divorcing him, while he leads an online father’s support group for divorcing dads .

what reminded me about this from the Clancy case is that he was always and currently is big on outer appearances, his presentation to the world, and being viewed as “the good guy” the unsuspecting guy, while he worked very hard to antagonize me into reacting, manipulate me into believing I had a mental health problem, painting the picture to the world that I was and am the villain.

Meanwhile, after 5 years of initiating divorce, it finally finalizing no thanks to him dragging it out with endless futile and frivolous motions, he has yet to pay CP and has abandoned his professional field to try and skirt financial responsibility ( choosing to rent a room with a whole other family with their own kids) claiming indigence.

I am so grateful I escaped his madness before it was too late. I have a safe refuge I call home, without being fed bs for dinner. The kids are excellent & my relationships w family and friends have restored. Life is beautiful.

I’m 27 years old now, but when I was a preteen/teenager I was heavily involved in the church. I started getting involved with the youth group when I was 12. My youth minister was 15 years older than me and she seemed so cool. She gave me a nickname and praised me for various academic achievements. She went to my theatre shows and choir concerts and my birthday parties. She helped me learn how to drive, taught me about sexual education (in the religious sense. Not REAL sex ed)
I quickly grew attached to her and she could see that and “took me under her wing”.
So here’s the thing, I knew I was a queer when I was 16, I kept it hidden from everyone until I was 18, and she was the first person I told. After that, she took more of an interest in me. She started giving me books on how to overcome homosexuality, took me to lunches to talk about my progress, texted me throughout the week reminders and Bible verses to “help me”. One time we even traveled to a different state together (just us 2) and stayed in a hotel room (again just us 2) to go to a wedding. During that time she told me how excited she was to officiate my wedding one day and see me have a husband and a family. She said I was like a sister to her and that my kids and her kids would play together.
So fast forward to now. I’m out as a lesbian, I’m married to a woman, and we have a four month old baby. My former YM is nowhere to be found. She completely dropped me as soon as I came out publicly. Said nothing about my marriage or my child.
My wife says that she groomed me and when I didn’t do what she wanted she left. I feel used. I gave my entire childhood to the church- I was the darling. Everyone knew me. They told me they knew I would do great things. Now I’m blocked by them. But the one that hurts the most is my former YM. She doesn’t have me blocked on anything and she still is one of the first people to view my stories, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even like anything.
Anyways was this grooming?

My mother sent me "The Meaning of Marriage" couples devotional in the mail. It was a well meaning gift; she likes my husband (me being married is her biggest accomplishment and thing she's proud of, thank you Christian patriarchy). Anyways I flipped through some of it, and it's "complementarian" and has extremely misogynistic pieces that harm both husbands and wives in there. Additionally, you guessed it, the book normalizes grape (husband nEeDs 'sEx'). If I'm remembering correctly, it blames much on 'modern culture' and praises capitalism. This is ironic because a big part of why modern culture actually sucks in some ways is capitalism.. I'm just venting bc it's hard how other people have moms they can actually talk to and be comfortable around and my mom is sending me a book about how grape is okay (and I have been SA'd before, years ago). And yes, I'm sure she was aware of this Bs bc she believes in all of her conservative mega church's ways, including sexism, purity culture, anti-abortion, LGBTQIA+ hate, etc..... Anyways else get insane gifts??