Going to church can hurt.  Like really hurt.  As in it can bring on a panic attack or tears and emotional soul wrenching. 

The weight of years of partial truth on your shoulders pulls down in full force.  There are triggers starting in the parking lot.  Just making it inside the church building takes outrageous courage. You want to believe.  You want to be there.  The foyer starts to spin.  Your heart beats faster and faster.  People around you become a blur.  The feeling to run overwhelms. The music and program format are all too familiar. You remember the past. It feels as though someone is slowly wrapping your body in plastic wrap. Before long, your whole body is tight and you can’t hear anything but the pounding inside your head and you finally give in to the desire to escape before your whole being explodes.