Day 4

I mourn sometimes for the things I have lost. I feel cheated and angry. I just want a normal life. When I listen to the people around me talk or their families and their childhoods, I feel discouraged. Sometimes I wonder why? Why, do they get parents who love them? Why did they get a good childhood? Why do they have the privilege of looking back with fondness? I hurt so bad at times it becomes a physical ache. It just wells up inside me with no place to go. I wonder why I couldn't have those things also. For so many years I strove so hard for approval it colored everything I did, because if I could finally get you to like me then maybe things would be ok and we could have a real family. Even worse, when that didn't work I began not to care about what anyone thought of me, not my family, not my friends, not those around and most of all not God. You see what did I want with a God who would condone what was happening to me. I mean we went to church every all the time. I was told we were Christians. We went to a Christian school. Everyone talked about how God knew all that you were doing. So I knew He saw what was happening at home yet He didn't help me it only got worse, so much worse. My parents were these great godly people and heck if that was God then I wanted nothing to do with him. If those were the rules we had to live by then I couldn't see what made us better then the world. The people out there were doing the same things but at least they were honest about it. So why not me? Why not live for what I wanted and what felt good for me in the moment. I began to drink and realized not I did I finally have friends but I felt a lot better too. No one cared who my parents were or what was happening to me. We only worried about who was buying the next party and where it was going to be. Next came drugs, more then you can possible imagine, if it was there and I could get my hands on it I tried it. Mix in with all of this were guys, some I slept with and some I didn't and why did it matter? It didn't! Because you see I didn't matter, there was nothing bigger or better then what was happening at that moment. Besides, I never got attached because you just got hurt if you cared for someone. The second I would start feel an attachment it was time to move on. I became proud of the fact that I could party like one of the guys. I could out drink and do more drugs then most anyone around me. I was quick to move on and never got hurt. Everyone including myself thought I had it figured out! Yet, inside I was dying. I was hurting and scared! I asked myself whenever I was sober enough to have a thought why was I still here. I use to call out to God begging Him to kill me because I had tried and couldn't do it for many years I thought he kept me alive to toy with me. I believed I was some little thing He played with when He was bored. I'm mad at you! You made me go to church, you told me that God was love and that you loved me but if this was love then I didn't want it. You broke my ability to even know what love is. You taught me it was a mean thing to be said and taken away, to be used to gain power, you taught me that real love true love doesn't exists but that we all just use it to get our own way. I'm mad at you! I'm mad that you never took seriously your responsibilities to me. You lied to about who God was. You taught me He was a tool you used to get your own way. He was a club that you use to feel better about yourself. You could do or say whatever you wanted as long as you went to church.