Dear mom,
I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. I wish I could recover from this, but I think we both know that might be a bit unrealistic. The thing is, if this was just simple depression caused by a slight imbalance in brain chemicals, we would be able to fix it.
But it isn’t. Since I was eight years old, I’ve been scared to death of this god that you love so much. Its crazy how religion can make one person feel completed and completely tear another apart. Mom, I’m so scared. You say ,”It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship.” But the way this God of yours reacts to people that don’t happen to love him back is downright abusive.
Mom, I feel so sad that you are holding on to he false hope that I’ll have a deathbed conversion so that you can see me again and God won’t have to burn me forever. It hurts me that the only reason you are there for me is because of that false hope.
I wish I could tell you how I really feel about life. The truth is, I want to die, but I don’t want to cause you the fear and pain of believing your daughter is in hell. I have always thought that if I was ever in an unbearable situation that wasn’t going to improve, having a way out would be a great comfort. In fact, that’s one of the few reasons I’m still alive today.
This conflict inside my head is why I’ve been crying all the time. I’m not upset because of wayward brain chemicals. One more diet to solve some non-existent allergy isn’t going to fix this. One more pill from one more goddamn psychiatrist isn’t either.
What I need is for you to live and let live. And what I mean by that is don’t force me to stay here on this sick, twisted earth. Don’t throw me into the hands of so-called professionals who think shoving people in a room and drugging them up till the cows come home is a good way to help them. Don’t tell me that life is worth living when I’m tormented by the fear of what might come afterwards. Just be there. Just love me and enjoy me for me, whether you’ll see me again in heaven or not. Just love me for me, whether I die tomorrow or long after you’re gone. Maybe then, I can live to see another day. Maybe then, I can be truly at peace, whether here, or in the next life, if there is one.
Your daughter.
3 comments
Hmm… lots of stuff about moms lately… or maybe even parents or family in general.
Odd.
Sorry, I might comment more later but I wanted to point that at first, idk…
See, I figured this is more or less my mom since mt family is christian and I’ve been put on meds ans stuff before in middle school before they faded into obscurity, no.matter how loving she might seem otherwise…
Just so stern, it’s a christian’s or parent’s way or no way, I just feel like I shoukd be ashamed instead of proud of who I am or what I want, everyone won’t let me get a girlfriend and it makes me kind of pissed…
Do you have a question about God? Anything at all?