lmao for all of us “struggling with misotheism”
I didn’t suffer through a cult just to find this shit here, though. Jesus Christ. I’m back in college after taking a couple years off following the loss of my entire family to the cult I grew up in (praise the Lord!), and I’ve got a person in one of my classes who keeps making all of her comments about God and it’s really fucking with my head. 18 years of Sundays wasted and all I got was this stupid mental illness that convinces me that God had one of my closest friends assault and try to rape me because he doesn’t like that I’m “living in sin”. I finally broke the other night and told my partner that my friend assaulted me after keeping my mouth shut for a couple months, and holy shit, no one ever talks about how embarrassing it is to talk about getting assaulted, you know? Also, to the person who wrote the original post, the “Please read this” post about God, don’t comment on my post. Don’t tell me God would save me, that’s like literally the last thing I need right now. I don’t need to hear that God is punishing me for “turning my back on him”, I don’t want to repent for getting raped again, I tried that for years last time and it doesn’t work. Turns out, if God exists, he just has you get raped again. He thinks it’s a funny joke.
Anyway, so my best friend assaulted me, and now I’m supposed to go see her on her birthday some time this next week. They were drunk (congrats) and it just feels like a repeat of my mom. They don’t remember anything (lucky you) and I just gotta live with the fact that it just keeps happening (“maybe because you’re a sinful sinner doing many sins” not like you, right? you like God now, so you’re God’s favorite until something bad happens again.) and I just have to keep pretending like nothing’s happened and I’m a totally well-adjusted person and this has no effect on me or the state of my rapidly declining mental health (“did it start declining when you turned away from the Lord?” it started when God started having his disciples rape me <3). I work at a job where I’m alone constantly and I’m like hallucinating the entire fucking time. Shit’s really gotten fucked, and even now after I’ve told my partner, I’m still not quite right up there. I thought about my “way out” and I’ve got one ready. I’m not trying to take myself off the earth right now, but it’s good to be prepared, blah blah blah, let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning, blah blah blah bridegroom comes at night.
I was realizing recently just how many Bible verses I have memorized. Lots of catechism, too. The point, my dad always said, was so that we would always have it with us, so that it would always turn us back to the Lord. Bummer for him; hasn’t taken me back to the Lord. Just lets me make edgy playlist titles for my playlists about being constantly miserable. He should’ve killed me when he had the chance, but he was a coward, and he didn’t want to risk having to spend jail time for taking his child abuse “a little too far”. Who knows? The way this society treats children and Christians, he probably would’ve gotten away with it and had sermons dedicated to his dedication to the Lord. “The Lord said ‘take thy kid, that fucking ***** kid you hate, _______, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice them there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you’.” And, as the story goes, The Lord Will Provide; he provided me as a punching bag to my parents.
Right before I told my partner, I was entirely numbed out for a week, and the only word I had running through my head was “atone”. Like jesus fucking christ, I’m a walking cliche at this point. I almost carved that shit into me, but it was a little too corny for even me. I’ve gotta slice n dice like every three months or else everything in my life goes to shit worse than usual. What a fucking stupid way to live life, but I’ve cheated death enough times that I know I’ve got to spill some blood for it (“you could always rely on the Blood of ChristTM” no solicitors, thank you). Last time I almost died, I was grand mal seizing for 2 fucking hours and struggling to breathe until 8 hours later. I’m not epileptic, so I don’t know what the fuck that was about, or why my heart kept stopping. “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s”. Still paying off my hospital bills. Went in more recently and found out I’ve got some yikes issues with my organs, but, bad news, I’m too poor to get anything done, so guess I’ll take the long, painful, slow rotting of my body from the inside. I know this isn’t how it works, but I keep thinking that maybe when my mom was shoving shit inside me, she stabbed my organs. That’s not how it works and all, but jesus, if I haven’t felt like I was rotting from the inside out for years since it happened.