A “Superstitious” Christian
By Grace K. Bianco
“Don’t even say it, or you might jinx it.”
It’s about as weird as it sounds, but this is my story on how I came to be a “superstitious” Christian. It most likely won’t make any sense, because I hardly know how to describe it myself. But that just makes this blog all the more interesting, right?
The Beginning of the Fear
It all started when I was young. My parents had this “knock on wood” mindset about talking about the last time you threw up and car problems. Two extremely specific things that I was able to mold into a “superstitious” anxiety.
For example, if you said something like, “I haven’t thrown up since sixth grade,” my parents would respond with, “Don’t even say it!! You’ll be throwing up tomorrow.” If you said something like, “My car hasn’t had a problem in two years”, they responded with, “Don’t say that!! Your car will be start breaking down on the side of the road tomorrow.” Get the picture?
It was nothing serious, and honestly, it was quite innocent. Both my mom and dad were the exact same though. I guess them agreeing on such a weird and specific matter somehow managed to translate in my head as serious. I took those two little things and ran with them. It also didn’t help that one of their two “superstitions”, I already had a bad phobia of (emetophobia : the fear of throw up).
The Transformation from Silly Joke to Fear
I took their little theory as don’t speak something out loud if you don’t want it to come true. Around the same time I made this connection in late elementary, I became more and more aware of people dying. I, myself, am not afraid of dying. I am afraid of grieving a loved one.
I believe mental pain is one of the most painful things to feel. I can’t say I have been through a ton of physical pain in my lifetime, but I have felt some things. It has never compared to mental pain for me. If you have never struggled hard with mental pain, I realize this can be hard to understand. I pray you never have to find out.
My fear of other people dying started when I was only nine or ten. I realized I was the youngest in my family at the time. I was uncomfortable by this. I didn’t want to be “left behind”. I just couldn’t imagine a world without my loved ones in it.
Every time, I fought with someone, I became paranoid. Would this be my last conversation? Just thinking that, I was scared God would hear me. I never talked about this harsh paranoia for fear that I would “jinx” it. If saying I haven’t thrown up in awhile means I will throw up tomorrow, what happens if I talk about a seemingly healthy someone dying? If I speak one of my biggest fears into existence, who’s to say the other fear is any different?
It’s funny to write about. It’s like negative Christian manifestation. Nothing in the Bible suggests this happening. I have taken some of Job and verses on going through trials and I have distorted them in my head at times. I will write more about my feelings towards the book of Job, but for the purposes of this blog, I will just say that Job was a faithful servant of God, and got everything taken away from him as a test. It’s a great story that I reflect on often, but it has caused some fear about the possibility of being tested by God. I know I am twisting words, and that is why I have finally decided to write about it.
Being Able to Speak About It
I am now twenty-one, and just starting to be able to talk about this fear out loud. Don’t get me wrong. I could bring up death without thinking that I was “speaking it into existence” before, but I feel like it’s more recent that I have been able to discuss in more detail my very real paranoia.
My paranoia is easily triggered. If my sister is driving reckless, my mind starts spinning. If I think too long about my parents age and realize they will only get older, I can feel my heart rate race. (Just writing this is making my heart rate 105 BPM.) And don’t even get my started on my husband riding his motorcycle…
Out of all my fears that come from anxiety, it’s my most laughed at one. When I write about it, I can see the “crazy”, but when I am struggling with it, I struggle hard. I have a hard time communicating or being comforted, because for so many years, I wouldn’t even let myself speak it out loud. Being scared of something happening to a loved one is hard, but it doesn’t make it any easier when you feel like you can’t talk about it.
I don’t want this turned around on my parents. I am sure they were mostly joking about it when they would say it, and they definitely didn’t concoct this fear of mine. I am sure they don’t even really know I struggle with this fear in the first place. I did it all on my own.
Final Thoughts
As hard as it is to talk and write about, I have to do it. I have no control over what could happen. Life and death are inevitable. Being self-aware is a part of the journey of getting through these kinds of things.
The fear of death is one of my more constant fears. Somedays, I have to pray and re pray to put it all in God’s hands. I have to trust that God will take care of me. I can talk openly about any fear I have, because I know God’s plan isn’t determined by the things I say out loud.
Speaking out loud about my fears doesn’t give my fears more power. God is in control of everything whether I worry about it or not.
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