When Fear Feels Like Faith: Mistaking Dysregulation for the Conviction of Sin
The Lasting Harm of My Childhood Church Camp Experience
by David Ruybalid
Every summer during my preteen and teenage years, I went to a Christian camp called "The Wilds of the Rockies." It was a place that promised to help youth get close to God, but for me, it became a breeding ground for fear, shame, and confusion. Looking back, I realize it shaped a pattern in my life that many others with religious trauma may find familiar: mistaking dysregulation for the conviction of sin.
Evenings at camp followed a predictable rhythm. After a full day of activities, we’d gather in the chapel for the nightly service. The speaker, typically passionate and persuasive, delivered sermons heavy with shame and condemnation. The messages fixated on sin, our teenage behavior, fear of hell, and how unworthy we were—how much we had failed and how desperately we needed to make things right with God. Vivid depictions of hell, dire warnings about unconfessed sin, and graphic descriptions of Jesus' bloody death meant to take our place were common. I remember being terrified of dying in a car crash and not being "right with God," haunted by the stories the speakers shared. Out of this fear, it was common for kids to pray “the prayer of salvation” repeatedly, just to be certain that, as they often put it, "if I died today, I want to be sure I'd go to heaven."
As if that weren’t enough to heighten the tension, the piano player and speaker would seamlessly transition into an emotional altar call. The piano would play soft, mournful version of “I Surrender All,” and the speaker would plead with us to come forward. "Don’t wait," he’d say. "Don’t ignore the Holy Spirit’s voice. If you feel that nudge, that’s God convicting you! You need to deal with it now."
I did feel uncomfortable. I thought it was the nudge he was talking about. My chest would tighten, my breathing would quicken, and my stomach would churn. I felt like I couldn’t stay in my seat. Surely this had to be the Holy Spirit convicting me, right? The speaker said so. So I’d get up, and walk up the stairs to meet with a counselor, sometimes with tears streaming down my face, desperately trying to figure out what sin I needed to confess.
Main Lodge at The Wilds of the Rockies - Chapels met through the lower doors.
The truth was, I often had no idea why I felt the way I did. I wasn’t hiding some deep, unconfessed sin. But I’d been conditioned to believe that my dysregulation, the intense emotional and physiological response I was experiencing, was evidence of God’s conviction. I’d search my heart for something, anything, that I could repent of just to make the discomfort stop.
This pattern didn’t end when I left camp. It followed me into adulthood and into every Christian environment that mirrored those same dynamics. Whenever I felt dysregulated, anxious, ashamed, or overwhelmed, I would immediately assume it was because I was guilty of something in God’s eyes. Maybe I had unconfessed sin. Maybe I wasn’t right with God. The fear and shame rooted in those experiences at camp had become ingrained in my spiritual life.
After becoming close friends with Dr. Janyne McConnaughey, I began to understand that my dysregulation wasn’t a spiritual failing or a sin issue. It was trauma. Now, through the lens of healing and studying religious trauma, I can clearly see that what I once believed to be encounters with the Holy Spirit were, in reality, responses to an environment that overwhelmed and dysregulated my nervous system. Preachers like those at camp often rely on fear-based tactics and emotional manipulation to elicit intense reactions, mistaking, or perhaps intentionally exploiting, those reactions as evidence of spiritual conviction.
Here’s what happens: when preaching is saturated with shame and condemnation, it triggers the body’s stress response. Pair that with emotionally charged music, and it creates the perfect storm for nervous system dysregulation. People experience anxiety, unease, even panic. But rather than recognizing these as natural reactions to a high-pressure environment, they’re told it’s the Holy Spirit convicting them. This perpetuates a harmful cycle of fear and shame, largely because the Christian community, as a whole, lacks a fundamental understanding of trauma.
For someone like me, who already carried the weight of religious trauma, this only deepened the wounds. I internalized the message that my discomfort was always my fault. When I’d later experience dysregulation triggered from trauma, I’d automatically connect it to guilt and sin, further entrenching my fear and shame.
This misunderstanding of dysregulation and conviction of sin is a systemic issue in many Christian environments. If we are a Christian, a healthy conviction is meant to draw us toward grace, healing, and restoration. It’s not intended to drive us into cycles of fear or shame. When preachers, knowingly or unknowingly, mistake or exploit dysregulation as a sign of spiritual conviction, they perpetuate religious trauma, leaving individuals trapped in a pattern of self-doubt and condemnation.
We really need a loving and gentle invitation from God to turn away from what harms us and embrace what heals us at a deeper level. It’s restorative, not punishing. Dysregulation, on the other hand, is a physiological response to a perceived threat, often rooted in unresolved trauma or high-pressure environments.
If you’ve experienced similar dynamics, know this: your fear and shame do not reflect the heart of God. They are likely signals of harm caused by your environment or past experiences. God’s voice is never one of condemnation or manipulation but of kindness, grace, and love. By cultivating self-awareness and surrounding yourself with a trusted, supportive community, you can begin to discern the voice of trauma from the true voice of God.
David Ruybalid is a co-founder of the Religious Trauma Network.
This article was originally published at davidruybalid.substack.com.
This article is not intended to treat or diagnose any condition. David is not a licensed therapist or clinician. Any advice or opinions given on this site are strictly individual observation and insights based on personal experiences and study. It should in no way take the place of professional assistance.