Like any good story, there's always a beginning, middle, and an end. However, the story I'm about to tell you, only has a beginning, though I'm not quite sure if that means that it's not a good story. No, it's not because I haven't thought of a good middle or ending yet, it's because they haven't happened yet. Because honestly, this story is myself.
Or to be more precise, this story is how I realized I was messing up and needed something more in my life. And I'm going to be brutally honest about everything, too. Why? Well, maybe because I hope that someone (even if just one person) can learn from my mistakes. But the other reason would be because it's me being humble.
Trust me, there is no 'I'm so amazing' or 'wow I'm a good person' going on here. In fact, this story is pretty much the opposite. It's more of a 'I really messed up and was a terrible person' kind of deal.
To give a little background on the situation, I was raised going to church. I 'believed' in God and Jesus, but I never really prayed a lot growing up. Honestly, no one ever talked about it in my first church, and the second I never paid much attention to. Instead, I seemed to have this perpetual vibe going that God was there and everything was taken care of. (If I may be so bold to foreshadow a bit, it was, I just didn't know it yet)
As I got older, the kids I was friends with got older, too, and like any young kid trying to be cool, I followed them into some bad habits. First, it started with swearing. Awkward at first, where I'd trip over the words when saying them. And usually they weren't the really bad swear words, just a 'minor' (if there is such a thing) D word or H word. Then came the gossiping and bullying thing. Where I'd hear a rumor and spread it on or laugh while they bullied someone and made fun of them. I never directly took part in the actual bullying as far as I remember, but I still just stood there and laughed about it, which in my humble opinion, is just as bad.
But then came something new. Something...different. Then came the porn. Like any curious 13 year old, my body began going through some changes. 'What was this warm feeling inside when a girl said hi to me?' 'Why do I keep noticing how she looks in those clothes?' Except, growing up without a father (he died when I was 4), I never learned how to cope with those feelings. My mother was too embarrassed or unfamiliar with them to talk to me about them. So, needless to say, all my education came from other 13 and 14 year old boys. And when I say education, I mean more like 'hey, look at this. Feels good doesn't it?'
Not too long after my introduction to it, my friends then began bullying me as well, causing my little world to be turned upside down (and inside out). I think this was the time that the porn began to really grab me and put me under control. It was really the only thing left in my life that made sense. My friends had abandoned me and I was angry at God, since He'd allowed this to happen. But the porn? It gave me some sort of happiness, if you can call it that.
Slowly, I made my way through days, weeks, months, and years with my fear and sorrow of being bullied turning into hatred and anger. hatred of them along with anger at myself for being such a victim. That's the message of today's world by the way. Don't be the victim, be strong...Yeah, well the world seems to have that messed up view of how being strong is. But I digress.
Fast forward a good 9 or 10 years and the anger was beginning to subside a bit. I'd had a college professor who taught about letting go and enjoying life and it sunk in. The only problem though, was that the porn was still constant in my life, just now it was worse. Before, where I'd stuck to the free stuff, I was now buying it with money I really didn't have. It was a 'well, I get paid tomorrow, so I'll charge it now' thing. Even more worse was that I was writing stories involving it for messages boards and forums and what had begun with 'minor' stuff (funny how that minor term comes up a lot when starting bad habits, huh?), got more and more crazy.
It was then that the crazy stuff started. Or should I say stopped. Over the winter in 2010-2011, I had gotten extremely sick, but paid it no attention. I returned to classes after missing only a day and went about my happy way. It wasn't under summer though, that the sickness came back to get me. But now, instead of the flu, it came in the form of OCD. Apparently, I'd had a strep virus attack my brain, which untreated caused the OCD.
This just wasn't any normal OCD though, it came in the form of scrupulosity, which is bad thoughts or doubts about God. And they scared me to death. Or at least I wished I was dead. I literally laid in bed for about 2 weeks, not doing anything but crying. I couldn't even sleep without drugging myself up on sleeping pills since my head wouldn't shut up.
However, after those two weeks of crying (and thinking God hated me, wondering what next with my life since I'd just gotten my EMT certification, and wondering how I could return to college with OCD), a feeling inside finally urged me to research the bible a bit. What I discovered inside startled me. God didn't hate me. In fact, God loved me more than I could ever imagine. He loves all of us so much, He humbled Himself to come here as our Lord to die for us, all so we could be with Him. How can you be angry at a God who does that? And honestly, how can you say no?
Thirstily, I read more and did more research on the matter and realized I wasn't living my life right (no kidding, right?). Anger and hatred wasn't good. God wanted me to love. Porn was definitely not good, God wanted me to wait for a good marriage, not some cheap pleasure on a website. And loneliness wasn't God's intention, He wanted to keep me company throughout my life. Thus, after some thought and deliberation, I decided that I needed to start things over, I needed to do things right, and I needed God in my life. Now please, don't take this to mean that I'm perfect or think I'm perfect. I'm not. I still struggle with the porn addiction and I need help (which I'm searching for). And I still swear on accident or crack a mean joke sometimes or get a little too egotistical of my accomplishments more than I'd like. Except, the difference between me now and the me 6 months ago in May is that I realize I have a problem and that I realize Jesus Christ will always be there to walk with me through this life. I was once lost, but now I'm found. I was dead, but now I'm alive again. And I couldn't be happier
"For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry" Luke 15:24
Or to be more precise, this story is how I realized I was messing up and needed something more in my life. And I'm going to be brutally honest about everything, too. Why? Well, maybe because I hope that someone (even if just one person) can learn from my mistakes. But the other reason would be because it's me being humble.
Trust me, there is no 'I'm so amazing' or 'wow I'm a good person' going on here. In fact, this story is pretty much the opposite. It's more of a 'I really messed up and was a terrible person' kind of deal.
To give a little background on the situation, I was raised going to church. I 'believed' in God and Jesus, but I never really prayed a lot growing up. Honestly, no one ever talked about it in my first church, and the second I never paid much attention to. Instead, I seemed to have this perpetual vibe going that God was there and everything was taken care of. (If I may be so bold to foreshadow a bit, it was, I just didn't know it yet)
As I got older, the kids I was friends with got older, too, and like any young kid trying to be cool, I followed them into some bad habits. First, it started with swearing. Awkward at first, where I'd trip over the words when saying them. And usually they weren't the really bad swear words, just a 'minor' (if there is such a thing) D word or H word. Then came the gossiping and bullying thing. Where I'd hear a rumor and spread it on or laugh while they bullied someone and made fun of them. I never directly took part in the actual bullying as far as I remember, but I still just stood there and laughed about it, which in my humble opinion, is just as bad.
But then came something new. Something...different. Then came the porn. Like any curious 13 year old, my body began going through some changes. 'What was this warm feeling inside when a girl said hi to me?' 'Why do I keep noticing how she looks in those clothes?' Except, growing up without a father (he died when I was 4), I never learned how to cope with those feelings. My mother was too embarrassed or unfamiliar with them to talk to me about them. So, needless to say, all my education came from other 13 and 14 year old boys. And when I say education, I mean more like 'hey, look at this. Feels good doesn't it?'
Not too long after my introduction to it, my friends then began bullying me as well, causing my little world to be turned upside down (and inside out). I think this was the time that the porn began to really grab me and put me under control. It was really the only thing left in my life that made sense. My friends had abandoned me and I was angry at God, since He'd allowed this to happen. But the porn? It gave me some sort of happiness, if you can call it that.
Slowly, I made my way through days, weeks, months, and years with my fear and sorrow of being bullied turning into hatred and anger. hatred of them along with anger at myself for being such a victim. That's the message of today's world by the way. Don't be the victim, be strong...Yeah, well the world seems to have that messed up view of how being strong is. But I digress.
Fast forward a good 9 or 10 years and the anger was beginning to subside a bit. I'd had a college professor who taught about letting go and enjoying life and it sunk in. The only problem though, was that the porn was still constant in my life, just now it was worse. Before, where I'd stuck to the free stuff, I was now buying it with money I really didn't have. It was a 'well, I get paid tomorrow, so I'll charge it now' thing. Even more worse was that I was writing stories involving it for messages boards and forums and what had begun with 'minor' stuff (funny how that minor term comes up a lot when starting bad habits, huh?), got more and more crazy.
It was then that the crazy stuff started. Or should I say stopped. Over the winter in 2010-2011, I had gotten extremely sick, but paid it no attention. I returned to classes after missing only a day and went about my happy way. It wasn't under summer though, that the sickness came back to get me. But now, instead of the flu, it came in the form of OCD. Apparently, I'd had a strep virus attack my brain, which untreated caused the OCD.
This just wasn't any normal OCD though, it came in the form of scrupulosity, which is bad thoughts or doubts about God. And they scared me to death. Or at least I wished I was dead. I literally laid in bed for about 2 weeks, not doing anything but crying. I couldn't even sleep without drugging myself up on sleeping pills since my head wouldn't shut up.
However, after those two weeks of crying (and thinking God hated me, wondering what next with my life since I'd just gotten my EMT certification, and wondering how I could return to college with OCD), a feeling inside finally urged me to research the bible a bit. What I discovered inside startled me. God didn't hate me. In fact, God loved me more than I could ever imagine. He loves all of us so much, He humbled Himself to come here as our Lord to die for us, all so we could be with Him. How can you be angry at a God who does that? And honestly, how can you say no?
Thirstily, I read more and did more research on the matter and realized I wasn't living my life right (no kidding, right?). Anger and hatred wasn't good. God wanted me to love. Porn was definitely not good, God wanted me to wait for a good marriage, not some cheap pleasure on a website. And loneliness wasn't God's intention, He wanted to keep me company throughout my life. Thus, after some thought and deliberation, I decided that I needed to start things over, I needed to do things right, and I needed God in my life. Now please, don't take this to mean that I'm perfect or think I'm perfect. I'm not. I still struggle with the porn addiction and I need help (which I'm searching for). And I still swear on accident or crack a mean joke sometimes or get a little too egotistical of my accomplishments more than I'd like. Except, the difference between me now and the me 6 months ago in May is that I realize I have a problem and that I realize Jesus Christ will always be there to walk with me through this life. I was once lost, but now I'm found. I was dead, but now I'm alive again. And I couldn't be happier
"For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry" Luke 15:24
