Anxiety and Fear: Religious Beliefs from my Childhood

As children, we take on the beliefs of our parents.  We believe that our parents are perfect and that it is us, the children, who only make mistakes.  I would like to share with you the religious beliefs that my parents, my dad in particular, had.  My father was Pentecostal from the Christian religion.  It is important to note that my father’s beliefs that I will be discussing are his interpretation of this church’s beliefs, not necessarily what the church stands for.

My father focused on a rather particular side of religion.  I wish it was the bible or the church’s activities, but no, my father was interested in the dark side.  That’s right.  He was interested in Satan and in hell and everything in this life and how it relates to evil.   My father believed that if we were to really see Satan, we would all become Christians.  “Anna, if the Devil (Satan) walked down the *401, everyone would see how horrible he is, and they would all run to church, so that is why Satan is very sneaky and out of sight”, my dad would warn us.  I was a very sensitive child and that would really scare me.  My dad was often oblivious to the fact I was sensitive.  He never seemed to notice when I was anxious or scared.  My father, who did not scare easily, would often tell us ghost stories, which would only add to my anxiety.

My dad also believed in something called “the Rapture”.  It is an interpretation of the book of Revelations in the Bible, basically how God was going to take away all the good people in the middle of the night and the bad people would be left on earth.  Demons and bad men would take over the earth, and all those left behind would suffer.  My dad would bring paper pamphlets home for us kids to read.  This was horrifying to me.  As a child, I was a hundred percent sure that my parents were good, and they were going to be taken up to Heaven by God.  “Am I good enough?”, I would ask my dad.  My dad would lift one shoulder, tilt his head to the side and press his lips together and say, “I’m not quite sure”.  This would make me feel sick inside.  I really doubted myself if I was a good enough person for God.  Apparently my dad didn’t even know!  This might have been my dad just trying to use fear to keep us kids in line, I’m not sure, but it made me so anxious.   If I woke up in the middle of the night, I would listen for my dad’s snoring.  If I heard it, I could relax, the Rapture had not come, and I can go back to sleep.  If I woke up and couldn’t hear my dad’s snoring, I would run to my parent’s bedroom to make sure they were there.  My dad’s snoring was a reassuring sound to me in my childhood.

Now in my mid-fifties, I can not stomach any institution or religion that uses fear for control.  I don’t watch horror movies either, it just increases my anxiety.

I often wonder if these beliefs contributed to my anxiety/panic disorder.  What do you think?

Note   *401 is a large highway that goes through Toronto