God help me, I'm screaming on the inside
I've never really believed in God. Actually...since I was little, I believed there was "a god" but not one that would ever help me.
I recall being molested beneath a giant portrait of Jesus.
I remember when asking my mother why my baby sitter had to have a heart attack right in front of me, she told me it was God's will.
Since early childhood, "God" had been associated with everything wrong in my life. "God's" plan for me was to have me molested and beaten for the better part of my adolescent years. Why should I ask this same "God" for salvation; for help; for ANYTHING at all?
I now find myself in a place where the only one left I have to ask for help is God. I can't say that I believe fully in any type of organized religion; I don't go to church, I don't pray, I have not been baptized or saved. But my mom believes in God. Maybe if I ask him to help one of his children, and not myself, I will get answers? I don't know anymore.
I'm in a very unfamiliar place. I don't know where to turn, I don't know where to go for strength. Everyone else I've known have turned to God in this same time of need, but I am reluctant. If he couldn't stop the molestation and abuse when I asked him to, why would he help my junkie mother? If every day is a struggle - a trial - to make sure I still believe in him, why should I live by his word? If a friend of mine caused me to be harmed and feel lost and lonely every single day of my life, that person would no longer be a friend. Is it not enough that I am looking to You for strength, when I have never done so for nearly 22 years? Why must everything be a trial? If I have to PROVE my love and belief in You, why don't YOU have to prove your existence to me????? Why do I have to blindly follow, when You don't have to make your love or presence known? WHY THE FUCK AM I TURNING TO A GOD THAT I HAVE NEVER BELIEVED IN???
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I remember the night my father died. After his brain had started to deteriorate, he asked my mother how to get to Heaven. She told him "You just have to tell God you're ready." We were in the hospital then; he raised his hands to the ceiling and said "God, I want to come home. Please take me." This from a man who had been an Atheist all his life. He had never talked about God, or anything like it until he was close to death. When he became lucid and out-of-character, I remember one day when we came into his hospital room, and there was candy all over the floor. He had told us he had been throwing it at "the people in white" who wouldn't leave his bedside, and they scared him.
If death, and the "white light" are manifestations of what you've been taught to believe your whole life, then why did my father see angels? He should have seen nothing, for what he believed in was virtually nothing. he used to say hell was on earth; where else do you have to worry about your children being sick, hungry, molested, raped, etc. ?
I'm rambling, I know. I'm fucking lost. I keep thinking of this intervention; I keep thinking of what I'm going to say, what points I'm going to argue.
All I really want is to have my mother back. And to not have to see her go out the way I did my father. He died while I was holding onto him; I got to see the bubbles of spit coming out of his mouth when he took his last breath; I got to see the tears streaming down his temples while he laid on his back, unable to feel pain, unable to move, unable to speak, yet able to feel the emotions swarm over him as he left his body.
I don't want to see my mother that way. I want her to fight, and I want to fight for her. But I don't have the strength. I feel like everything strong about me left the same day my father's soul left this earth.
How can she not understand? Cocaine and meth claimed my father's life. I struggled with the same 2 drugs myself, yet here I am - 27 with nearly 5 years of sobriety from hard drugs. Yes, I smoke pot....yes, I've had 6 beers before making this entry....but no one's crying for my soul. No one is praying to Jesus for me, and no one loses sleep at night over my choices. I have a handle on this. My pot smoking and beer drinking do not consume my life - my family does. Yet I'm starting to wonder if drugs would be less of a burden than what I'm faced with now.
Too many people don't believe that God is the reward. God does not come down and remove every obstacle from your course; he does not grant miracles, and he does not make your choices. YOU make the choices necessary to receive his love; to walk beside him in the after life. That's all find and dandy but.....Why should I live my life by your rules when I can't reap the benefits until I'm FUCKING DEAD? If you won't help me, guide me, give me some fucking insight, then why would I want to walk beside you?
I'm torn...seriously. As I get older, spirituality means more to me. yet I can't bring myself to believe in something that has NEVER believed in me, or answered a single fucking prayer.
If you're religious and you're reading this - indulge me. PLEASE. I'm fucking begging you to explain this bullshit to me.
I recall being molested beneath a giant portrait of Jesus.
I remember when asking my mother why my baby sitter had to have a heart attack right in front of me, she told me it was God's will.
Since early childhood, "God" had been associated with everything wrong in my life. "God's" plan for me was to have me molested and beaten for the better part of my adolescent years. Why should I ask this same "God" for salvation; for help; for ANYTHING at all?
I now find myself in a place where the only one left I have to ask for help is God. I can't say that I believe fully in any type of organized religion; I don't go to church, I don't pray, I have not been baptized or saved. But my mom believes in God. Maybe if I ask him to help one of his children, and not myself, I will get answers? I don't know anymore.
I'm in a very unfamiliar place. I don't know where to turn, I don't know where to go for strength. Everyone else I've known have turned to God in this same time of need, but I am reluctant. If he couldn't stop the molestation and abuse when I asked him to, why would he help my junkie mother? If every day is a struggle - a trial - to make sure I still believe in him, why should I live by his word? If a friend of mine caused me to be harmed and feel lost and lonely every single day of my life, that person would no longer be a friend. Is it not enough that I am looking to You for strength, when I have never done so for nearly 22 years? Why must everything be a trial? If I have to PROVE my love and belief in You, why don't YOU have to prove your existence to me????? Why do I have to blindly follow, when You don't have to make your love or presence known? WHY THE FUCK AM I TURNING TO A GOD THAT I HAVE NEVER BELIEVED IN???
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I remember the night my father died. After his brain had started to deteriorate, he asked my mother how to get to Heaven. She told him "You just have to tell God you're ready." We were in the hospital then; he raised his hands to the ceiling and said "God, I want to come home. Please take me." This from a man who had been an Atheist all his life. He had never talked about God, or anything like it until he was close to death. When he became lucid and out-of-character, I remember one day when we came into his hospital room, and there was candy all over the floor. He had told us he had been throwing it at "the people in white" who wouldn't leave his bedside, and they scared him.
If death, and the "white light" are manifestations of what you've been taught to believe your whole life, then why did my father see angels? He should have seen nothing, for what he believed in was virtually nothing. he used to say hell was on earth; where else do you have to worry about your children being sick, hungry, molested, raped, etc. ?
I'm rambling, I know. I'm fucking lost. I keep thinking of this intervention; I keep thinking of what I'm going to say, what points I'm going to argue.
All I really want is to have my mother back. And to not have to see her go out the way I did my father. He died while I was holding onto him; I got to see the bubbles of spit coming out of his mouth when he took his last breath; I got to see the tears streaming down his temples while he laid on his back, unable to feel pain, unable to move, unable to speak, yet able to feel the emotions swarm over him as he left his body.
I don't want to see my mother that way. I want her to fight, and I want to fight for her. But I don't have the strength. I feel like everything strong about me left the same day my father's soul left this earth.
How can she not understand? Cocaine and meth claimed my father's life. I struggled with the same 2 drugs myself, yet here I am - 27 with nearly 5 years of sobriety from hard drugs. Yes, I smoke pot....yes, I've had 6 beers before making this entry....but no one's crying for my soul. No one is praying to Jesus for me, and no one loses sleep at night over my choices. I have a handle on this. My pot smoking and beer drinking do not consume my life - my family does. Yet I'm starting to wonder if drugs would be less of a burden than what I'm faced with now.
Too many people don't believe that God is the reward. God does not come down and remove every obstacle from your course; he does not grant miracles, and he does not make your choices. YOU make the choices necessary to receive his love; to walk beside him in the after life. That's all find and dandy but.....Why should I live my life by your rules when I can't reap the benefits until I'm FUCKING DEAD? If you won't help me, guide me, give me some fucking insight, then why would I want to walk beside you?
I'm torn...seriously. As I get older, spirituality means more to me. yet I can't bring myself to believe in something that has NEVER believed in me, or answered a single fucking prayer.
If you're religious and you're reading this - indulge me. PLEASE. I'm fucking begging you to explain this bullshit to me.