Hello.
I want to start out by introducing myself. My name is Jason, and I live in Chicago. I'm 17 years old, and am in the second half of my senior year in high school. My family is very Christian, and though I was brought up Protestant, we do attend a Baptist church. Due to my father being in the Army, we have lived all over the world. I never made friends much, as we had to move every couple years or so. We've been living here in Chicago for over five years now, and it looks like i'll be living here from now on until I find someplace to go. Like I said before, I was brought up Protestant. I would attend church every sunday and go to sunday school. I would hate listening to the sermons and smelling all the perfume from the elderly visitors at our churches. That's just how I was. I guess I was too young to understand the importance of the place at which I was attending. Up until high school, school was traumatic for me. I was very shy. Very quiet. It's funny how the shy and quiet ones can attract the most attention, however. People would lash out at me for any reason, just to see what sort of reactions they would get. They were often mixed. Sometimes i'd say things back. Sometimes i'd try and ignore the hurtful words. Other times I would cry, and this would only signal defeat to them and they would rejoice with further torment. My parents have always been good to me. It may be important to note that i'm not an only child. I have sister that is 21. Due to the gap between our ages, she was always involved with other things when I was younger, and we hardly ever had time to do anything together. Still, I progressed through childhood on my own, though with very little in the way of a social life, due to the daily events that would take place in school.
Let's jump forward to 1999. I had just moved from Pennsylvania to Chicago. Pennsylvania provided one of the worst educational environments for me, and I would break down very often. I was depressed, and did take medication for a while, though it didn't do much. I was labeled with ADHD... and later it was recalled and I was stamped with a "light form of Aspergers syndrome". That really upset me. It's funny how science can just label a person like that. Surely there must of been something wrong with me. It still irritates me to this day, but officially I am cleared of all previous beliefs that I ever had such problems. After all, was it really my fault I was so quiet? I think not. Not after all I had been through. Ok, back to the story. Soon after moving here, I befriended a neighbor, who was a couple years younger than me. We did all kinds of cool stuff. Then I met his sister. She was 8. I was eleven. She suggested we fool around... and this was territory in which I had never walked. Without much thought, we played around one day, though thankfully, not to the point where my V membership card was stolen. To make a long story short, both my parents and his parents found out about what happened between me and his sister, and life came to a dead halt. My parents were ashamed and saddened. Reality hit me in the face when they spoke of possible lawsuits... or other things due to my actions. I was left alone in the dark, wondering how I had messed up so badly and so quickly. I then looked at my life, and got this funny feeling that something was missing. A voice appeared in my mind one day, whom I refer to as my conscience. Funny that. He said "look at yourself. look what you've done. do you know where you're going? do you know where you are? you need guidance." It was shortly after that, that I thought of my mom's pink bible... my dad's big bible... and all the bibles I had stored in my closet that were given to me by my Grandparents. Hmm. Perhaps this religion thing was something to look in to? At the time, life was pretty dark. I was alone and scared. Guidance, huh? Hmmm... that doesnt sound too bad. Not even a few days later, I was throwing tomatoes from the garden into the fire in our backyard. I was silly. I was uncertain. My dad came out, wondering why I was destroying all the fresh vegetables. I told him I was making a sacrifice... and his eyes widened. He knew I was looking into something important, though going about it the wrong way. He told me what I was doing was from the old testament, and not really required. He then pointed me in the direction of the church, and I started going there.
2000-2003. The initial few weeks going to church were awkward. I remembered the smell of the perfumes... all the people dressed up all fancy... and how it felt to wake up at 8am on a sunday, and not have time for breakfeast until after the lecture. Bummer. As the weeks progressed, I got to know the people within the church, and felt secure there. I was saved sometime around 2001. I actually asked to be saved on several occasions, just to make sure my request went though. Again, more silliness. Throughout those years, I was involved with the church in many ways. Not only did I get to know many people, I also helped out with events and programs, and went on several trips. I told my testimony of sorts (see above) and it brought tears to many people. When I look back on it now, it was great. I felt like an angel. Was I? Not then, and not yet, but I was under the watch of God. I read my bible at church (never really at home, as I was easily distracted by many things) and learned about how being saved works, and more importantly, how to share your faith with others. Now, was every day a good day? Of course not. Even the most spiritual of Christians has their good days and bad. I can say though, that I was much happier during that time. I felt arms around me. I felt wise. I felt something special. I talked to God casually on many occasions. Even though High School was treating me very well (compared to other years in school), I still took the time, when alone, to casually talk to God, as if he was walking next to me. I was baptized, by choice, on November 30th, 2003. Two months prior to that, I found out about the largest Christian community in the "digital world". Lo and behold, that's where i've come crawling back to now.
It was probably around April of 2004 that something in my mind clicked. Church seemed to be boring, though I still understood its importance. As I made many friends and acquaintances, I learned many things from them. Many were atheist, and many more were just lost or N/A with their faith. Attempts to share my faith with them were failures. I didnt even know where to begin, despite my learning of that process. I never ventured too deap in that area. Further looking into my friends and acquaintances, I learned their reasonings for not believing in God. Some were intelligent. Others were clouded with pot smoke and alcohol. The typical kinds of output you'd get from a sophomore or junior high schooler. Life was still going good, though I started to tire of school. I wanted to graduate then. I wanted to find a job. The highlight of last year, was my earning the feeling of love. The desire for it. Not love from God, as that came pretty much naturally (though I didnt always return it promptly) but the love between a man and a woman. I was a young man. I was a quiet man. The crushes I had were kept to myself, but occasionally they would leak, and I'd be reminded of my status in the social class. Very very low. It was around April of last year that I started questioning my faith. Was God really real? Was my God right? My eyes opened wider, and I looked over the Earth at the many other religions and faiths. They all seemed somewhat similar, though somewhat different. Most said, however, that they were right, and everyone else was wrong. Could I be wrong? Oh no. Panic. What if I was wrong? What if I should be Muslim? Jewish? Shinto? And more recently, what if I should be Wiccan? It was from that point forward that things started going downhill. Grades started to lower. On a positive note, I scored another job. I now work at the local Library and at Gamestop. Working for Gamestop got me some attention from my peers at school, and I met more people, with the same odd opinions about religion that were totally opposite from mine. I talked to my pastors and people at church about it, and they would always advise I look into the word and pray. It didnt really help much. The word was confusing, and my prayers... though I used to invision them going to the ears of God, seemed to float up and go through the vent on my ceiling. Hmmm. As a shadow seemed to come over my life, I started to become angry. I was confused. I prayed to God for guidance, but there was only silence. I kept my eyes peeled for any signals in the real world, but there were none that I could understand. I questioned a great many things. I questioned other people. Denominations. Churches. Religions. Scriptures. I started to question anything, and most people ended up telling me I just had to have faith in what I believed in. Faith? I could have faith in anything. That doesnt make it right, however. Great, even deeper of a hole. I continued my downward spiral. I found happiness in my language, my lust, my adultery (inappropriate contentography and whatnot) and my "sin". But wait... i started to doubt sin... and then I really felt free. I Felt like I was bound to know rules, and the chains were broken. Were the chains to keep me safe? Looking back on it, I'd have to guess so. It's too late now, however. At the end of December, I decided I would return to my master. I had fled, and I knew from the very beginning that I was walking down a dark path. One night, I prayed for forgiveness... for wisdom... and for a light to come and show me the path back towards God. My conscience started speaking to me again. It's important to note that my conscience has never told me to do anything wrong. Never. Not once. My conscience has always told me the right things to do in situations. My conscience has cheered me up when I was down, and given me wisdom where it was needed. Afte telling my pastor about it, he told me it was the Holy Spirit, and that made me feel warm... for a few minutes. Prior to me asking for forgiveness, I had already flat-out screamed that I had given up on God. I was angry. I blamed him.... whoever he was... for making it so difficult for a person like me (and there must be others) to find his way through this difficult world of ours, that often only tries to bring us down. I tried to listen to my conscience for a few weeks. I felt like a better person, but every time I would talk to peers in school or just hear opinions from the media, I would instantly be knocked down. Who was right? Who was wrong? Does anyone in the world really have the answers? I had forsaken my church. I had worried my parents. I had nobody to turn to. I didnt know who to turn to. i didnt know who to pray to, as I didnt know if I was praying to the right being. I didnt know if there even was being to pray to. I am jealous of those who walk so great in their faith. I am jealous of those who have never looked around and have seen the things I have. I am jealous to those, who have not been mauled by Satan... if I even believe in such a being anymore. Recently, still being without God, I started looking into Wicca from a friend. It didnt sound bad... but then I found out my friend was using it to try and learn to be a sorcerer. Right. A person taking a religion and trying to turn it into Harry Potter. Good game. Still lost. Still unsure. I feel sad now. I wish someone could just hold me. I might cry. I might not. Thoughts of suicide have come and gone, though it sounds interesting. After death, i'd finally understand what I never was able to grasp before. Only one problem, however. There'd be no coming back to Earth, I suppose. I keep telling myself I would never do something like that, but now I dont know.
Last night... I went to a friends hose... and broke a virginity. Not a virginity in that sense, but I did something I was proud before to never have done. I smoked a cigarette... and then smoked some weed. I always told myself I would never touch that stuff. I was too smart for that. I'm so lost. I'm weak. Now i'm just downright foolish. I've gone from being lost, to being illegal and lost. Can words express how I feel right now? Maybe. Maybe not. If you've read up to this point, you've read a few thousand I suppose. I'm so ashamed of myself. I have a bright future (career-wise) ahead of me. I have employment. My grades are low, but not failing. I'm on my way to being an adult... but part of me has already died... and I dont know if I can bring it back.
...
I want to start out by introducing myself. My name is Jason, and I live in Chicago. I'm 17 years old, and am in the second half of my senior year in high school. My family is very Christian, and though I was brought up Protestant, we do attend a Baptist church. Due to my father being in the Army, we have lived all over the world. I never made friends much, as we had to move every couple years or so. We've been living here in Chicago for over five years now, and it looks like i'll be living here from now on until I find someplace to go. Like I said before, I was brought up Protestant. I would attend church every sunday and go to sunday school. I would hate listening to the sermons and smelling all the perfume from the elderly visitors at our churches. That's just how I was. I guess I was too young to understand the importance of the place at which I was attending. Up until high school, school was traumatic for me. I was very shy. Very quiet. It's funny how the shy and quiet ones can attract the most attention, however. People would lash out at me for any reason, just to see what sort of reactions they would get. They were often mixed. Sometimes i'd say things back. Sometimes i'd try and ignore the hurtful words. Other times I would cry, and this would only signal defeat to them and they would rejoice with further torment. My parents have always been good to me. It may be important to note that i'm not an only child. I have sister that is 21. Due to the gap between our ages, she was always involved with other things when I was younger, and we hardly ever had time to do anything together. Still, I progressed through childhood on my own, though with very little in the way of a social life, due to the daily events that would take place in school.
Let's jump forward to 1999. I had just moved from Pennsylvania to Chicago. Pennsylvania provided one of the worst educational environments for me, and I would break down very often. I was depressed, and did take medication for a while, though it didn't do much. I was labeled with ADHD... and later it was recalled and I was stamped with a "light form of Aspergers syndrome". That really upset me. It's funny how science can just label a person like that. Surely there must of been something wrong with me. It still irritates me to this day, but officially I am cleared of all previous beliefs that I ever had such problems. After all, was it really my fault I was so quiet? I think not. Not after all I had been through. Ok, back to the story. Soon after moving here, I befriended a neighbor, who was a couple years younger than me. We did all kinds of cool stuff. Then I met his sister. She was 8. I was eleven. She suggested we fool around... and this was territory in which I had never walked. Without much thought, we played around one day, though thankfully, not to the point where my V membership card was stolen. To make a long story short, both my parents and his parents found out about what happened between me and his sister, and life came to a dead halt. My parents were ashamed and saddened. Reality hit me in the face when they spoke of possible lawsuits... or other things due to my actions. I was left alone in the dark, wondering how I had messed up so badly and so quickly. I then looked at my life, and got this funny feeling that something was missing. A voice appeared in my mind one day, whom I refer to as my conscience. Funny that. He said "look at yourself. look what you've done. do you know where you're going? do you know where you are? you need guidance." It was shortly after that, that I thought of my mom's pink bible... my dad's big bible... and all the bibles I had stored in my closet that were given to me by my Grandparents. Hmm. Perhaps this religion thing was something to look in to? At the time, life was pretty dark. I was alone and scared. Guidance, huh? Hmmm... that doesnt sound too bad. Not even a few days later, I was throwing tomatoes from the garden into the fire in our backyard. I was silly. I was uncertain. My dad came out, wondering why I was destroying all the fresh vegetables. I told him I was making a sacrifice... and his eyes widened. He knew I was looking into something important, though going about it the wrong way. He told me what I was doing was from the old testament, and not really required. He then pointed me in the direction of the church, and I started going there.
2000-2003. The initial few weeks going to church were awkward. I remembered the smell of the perfumes... all the people dressed up all fancy... and how it felt to wake up at 8am on a sunday, and not have time for breakfeast until after the lecture. Bummer. As the weeks progressed, I got to know the people within the church, and felt secure there. I was saved sometime around 2001. I actually asked to be saved on several occasions, just to make sure my request went though. Again, more silliness. Throughout those years, I was involved with the church in many ways. Not only did I get to know many people, I also helped out with events and programs, and went on several trips. I told my testimony of sorts (see above) and it brought tears to many people. When I look back on it now, it was great. I felt like an angel. Was I? Not then, and not yet, but I was under the watch of God. I read my bible at church (never really at home, as I was easily distracted by many things) and learned about how being saved works, and more importantly, how to share your faith with others. Now, was every day a good day? Of course not. Even the most spiritual of Christians has their good days and bad. I can say though, that I was much happier during that time. I felt arms around me. I felt wise. I felt something special. I talked to God casually on many occasions. Even though High School was treating me very well (compared to other years in school), I still took the time, when alone, to casually talk to God, as if he was walking next to me. I was baptized, by choice, on November 30th, 2003. Two months prior to that, I found out about the largest Christian community in the "digital world". Lo and behold, that's where i've come crawling back to now.
It was probably around April of 2004 that something in my mind clicked. Church seemed to be boring, though I still understood its importance. As I made many friends and acquaintances, I learned many things from them. Many were atheist, and many more were just lost or N/A with their faith. Attempts to share my faith with them were failures. I didnt even know where to begin, despite my learning of that process. I never ventured too deap in that area. Further looking into my friends and acquaintances, I learned their reasonings for not believing in God. Some were intelligent. Others were clouded with pot smoke and alcohol. The typical kinds of output you'd get from a sophomore or junior high schooler. Life was still going good, though I started to tire of school. I wanted to graduate then. I wanted to find a job. The highlight of last year, was my earning the feeling of love. The desire for it. Not love from God, as that came pretty much naturally (though I didnt always return it promptly) but the love between a man and a woman. I was a young man. I was a quiet man. The crushes I had were kept to myself, but occasionally they would leak, and I'd be reminded of my status in the social class. Very very low. It was around April of last year that I started questioning my faith. Was God really real? Was my God right? My eyes opened wider, and I looked over the Earth at the many other religions and faiths. They all seemed somewhat similar, though somewhat different. Most said, however, that they were right, and everyone else was wrong. Could I be wrong? Oh no. Panic. What if I was wrong? What if I should be Muslim? Jewish? Shinto? And more recently, what if I should be Wiccan? It was from that point forward that things started going downhill. Grades started to lower. On a positive note, I scored another job. I now work at the local Library and at Gamestop. Working for Gamestop got me some attention from my peers at school, and I met more people, with the same odd opinions about religion that were totally opposite from mine. I talked to my pastors and people at church about it, and they would always advise I look into the word and pray. It didnt really help much. The word was confusing, and my prayers... though I used to invision them going to the ears of God, seemed to float up and go through the vent on my ceiling. Hmmm. As a shadow seemed to come over my life, I started to become angry. I was confused. I prayed to God for guidance, but there was only silence. I kept my eyes peeled for any signals in the real world, but there were none that I could understand. I questioned a great many things. I questioned other people. Denominations. Churches. Religions. Scriptures. I started to question anything, and most people ended up telling me I just had to have faith in what I believed in. Faith? I could have faith in anything. That doesnt make it right, however. Great, even deeper of a hole. I continued my downward spiral. I found happiness in my language, my lust, my adultery (inappropriate contentography and whatnot) and my "sin". But wait... i started to doubt sin... and then I really felt free. I Felt like I was bound to know rules, and the chains were broken. Were the chains to keep me safe? Looking back on it, I'd have to guess so. It's too late now, however. At the end of December, I decided I would return to my master. I had fled, and I knew from the very beginning that I was walking down a dark path. One night, I prayed for forgiveness... for wisdom... and for a light to come and show me the path back towards God. My conscience started speaking to me again. It's important to note that my conscience has never told me to do anything wrong. Never. Not once. My conscience has always told me the right things to do in situations. My conscience has cheered me up when I was down, and given me wisdom where it was needed. Afte telling my pastor about it, he told me it was the Holy Spirit, and that made me feel warm... for a few minutes. Prior to me asking for forgiveness, I had already flat-out screamed that I had given up on God. I was angry. I blamed him.... whoever he was... for making it so difficult for a person like me (and there must be others) to find his way through this difficult world of ours, that often only tries to bring us down. I tried to listen to my conscience for a few weeks. I felt like a better person, but every time I would talk to peers in school or just hear opinions from the media, I would instantly be knocked down. Who was right? Who was wrong? Does anyone in the world really have the answers? I had forsaken my church. I had worried my parents. I had nobody to turn to. I didnt know who to turn to. i didnt know who to pray to, as I didnt know if I was praying to the right being. I didnt know if there even was being to pray to. I am jealous of those who walk so great in their faith. I am jealous of those who have never looked around and have seen the things I have. I am jealous to those, who have not been mauled by Satan... if I even believe in such a being anymore. Recently, still being without God, I started looking into Wicca from a friend. It didnt sound bad... but then I found out my friend was using it to try and learn to be a sorcerer. Right. A person taking a religion and trying to turn it into Harry Potter. Good game. Still lost. Still unsure. I feel sad now. I wish someone could just hold me. I might cry. I might not. Thoughts of suicide have come and gone, though it sounds interesting. After death, i'd finally understand what I never was able to grasp before. Only one problem, however. There'd be no coming back to Earth, I suppose. I keep telling myself I would never do something like that, but now I dont know.
Last night... I went to a friends hose... and broke a virginity. Not a virginity in that sense, but I did something I was proud before to never have done. I smoked a cigarette... and then smoked some weed. I always told myself I would never touch that stuff. I was too smart for that. I'm so lost. I'm weak. Now i'm just downright foolish. I've gone from being lost, to being illegal and lost. Can words express how I feel right now? Maybe. Maybe not. If you've read up to this point, you've read a few thousand I suppose. I'm so ashamed of myself. I have a bright future (career-wise) ahead of me. I have employment. My grades are low, but not failing. I'm on my way to being an adult... but part of me has already died... and I dont know if I can bring it back.
...
