Just like Sophia here, in one fell swoop I took an axe to the bridge and cut it. Instantly! Although the urge had been building up for a long time, the actual physical cutting of the bridge was rash, instantaneous and permanent.

I have no regrets.

There were two things I was separating myself from:

1. Toxic Relationships: I had become hopelessly entangled in very unhealthy relationships. It was like I had a target on me for abuse. It was even worse than I thought. There were many people who felt it was their personal calling to keep me humble. Actually, some told me that. Each and every day welcomed new forms of criticism, judgment and condemnation. How much I was personally implicated in the creation of this climate for abuse I have yet to fully unravel. I had become so sick, breathing the air of abusiveness for so long, that perhaps I welcomed it and even invited it. This is not to excuse the abusers, but to recognize how codependent I’d become. In any case, I got to the point one night where I recognized it and immediately cut the bridge, separating myself from some very rude, nasty and even cruel relationships. I even blocked such people from this blog. I’ve never seen or heard from most of those people again.
2. Toxic Culture: I wouldn’t claim that every church is like this, but too many are. The church culture I was a part of was very toxic. And I hear from people every day from across the denominational spectrum who share the same experience. Far too many people experience religious communities as poisonous, and that this is often actually an assumed aspect of religious communal life. This is why, on the other side of the chasm from Sophia, we can make out some individual forms, but they amalgamate into a harmful hoard. I honestly declare that too much of my experience of the church was destructive to me as a living, breathing person. I love the church and still believe that there must be a way to do church that is healthy and edifying to the person. There were moments I enjoyed that, but the general thrust was toxic. In one blow I ended it, separating myself from that culture. I have no intentions of going back into it. But I do have hopes of being engaged once again in the communal experiment… once I am healthy enough.

If you identify with what I’m talking about, then admit it, find your axe, and use it.

Buy the original drawing.

Buy a print of this drawing.

Check out my books that are full of cartoons.