I’m realizing that when I think about this blog and what I write, I am more focused on if people will like my posts or follow me than I am focused on the original purpose for which I created this: to write as a coping skill, to get my feelings and thoughts and ideas out of my head, to aid me in my journey of growth and healing with my depression and anxiety.
That said, I am going to just spill out a bunch of my feelings and thoughts and ideas while avoiding the “backspace” button.
I am struggling with my relationship with Christ. I have felt distant from God for a few weeks now, and it is really getting to me. You see, I am a big question asker, a deep thinker. I like to have the answers, and I like to have them NOW. Unfortunately for me, that isn’t how God works. God does not work at man’s desired speed. God is not concrete. God does not exist to answer my questions and rescue me from all of my struggles… I haven’t just realized these truths, but still I find myself in spiritual turmoil over them. I go back and forth between moments of feeling extreme faith and closeness with God, to moments of feeling like I am in spiritual drought and darkness and filled with intense doubt. Just as I tire from going back and forth between being mentally/ emotionally healthy and seriously depressed, I tire from this constant spiritual wishy-washy toss up. In fact, I tire from it to the point that I don’t even want to pray anymore, I don’t even want to pursue God anymore, because it all starts to feel fake. I know periods like this don’t last, but they are so discouraging and they really knock the wind out of me.
My faith struggle is not being helped by the Christian girls I know who seem to have gigantic sticks up their asses. Seriously, some of these girls must have a branch from Hogwart’s freaking Womping WIllow tree stuck up their tight little buttholes. I’m so sick of them being fake (sweet and uber nice one moment, and ignoring you and dropping you on your butt the next), and I’m so sick of the way that rather than sinning against one another blatantly (fighting physically, cussing each other out, etc.), they hurt you with half-covered-up prickles of hate. It’s poisonous, I tell you. Seriously poisonous. Of course all humans, Christian or not, sin and sin terribly. But there is something suffocating about Christian girls when they aren’t getting their way.
Well, my ranting is over. Thank you for listening. (And even if you didn’t, yay for me blogging as a coping skill).
Time to snuggle up my guinea pig and read a bit of “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” before wrapping up in all of the cozy blankets and shutting my tired eyes.