Destroyed

Sometimes you just feel destroyed. Sometimes you can’t think straight because you’ve got a million different fucking theologies flying around in your head and you just can’t process it. Sometimes it sounds nice to have a nice professional blog but the only time I can seem to write is when my life is falling apart. A nice professional blog I will most likely never have. I’m going to art school and I don’t even feel okay about it because I’m riddled with ridiculous guilt from an angry, tyrannical god. I want to fly, to make art, to put it in a perfect portfolio and have everything listed out on a webpage but most likely, it won’t be. Most likely I will drop out after three semesters at best and have all my artwork saved in random folders on my computer and shuffled into random spots around my house. I can’t fucking do anything right. I’m sick of all the cliches and tips stuffed into my fucking head. I knew how to live a normal life before Christianity and now I feel as though 45 full sized millstones were hung about my neck and I’m drowning. Just drowning because I don’t pray right, I don’t have discipline, my house is a disaster. And that one girl from bible school is posting about how we’re too obsessed with “messy culture.” Well excuse us for trying to push back against the legalism. God forgive us if we admit this life is hard, God forgive me if I admit I don’t want to be a stay at home mom, don’t feel like birthing children will make me feel complete, forgive me if I struggle hard with my bisexuality and what that means and who I am and my calling to be a Pastor but that’s WRONG so NEVERMIND! I feel like I have no feet planted on the ground and I’m just fucking floating away, seeing pictures of old friends getting Christianmarried and wishing them good luck because I’m sitting at my kitchen table bawling for the first time in weeks because I’ve been too shut down to shed a freaking tear, because marriage is so fucking hard and I literally cannot keep my head up I literally cannot keep my head up I literally will drown if someone does not help me I am literally going to die. Because I want to jump on the train of my favorite slam poet Emily Joy from Moody Bible Institute who actually does things FOR THE KINGDOM that I believe ACTUALLY MATTER and I wish to disassociate myself from John Piper and Franklin Graham and other conservative Christian things as much as possible, but those I love and respect more than anyone else believe the same way they do, including my mother. I need to write more because there’s really no one in my life that can feel my pain, who will sit with me in it, who is open to thinking that maybe the Bible isn’t saying what we think it is? It’s easy for the cute housewife to affirm things that make me want to vomit out my own soul. I’ve contemplated suicide, but I don’t have the nerve. As we speak I can feel God’s presence in the air and I appreciate it. I like it. That’s all I know is that I feel God’s presence all around me in this FUCKING mess and I like it. I don’t even know anything else, fuck it.

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