You know I don’t think I am cut out for this whole Christianity thing. You’d never meet a real Christian making fun of the Bible even if it is the Pharaoh Poo Head from Exodus. If I tell someone close to me like Hev-Lady or another friend from an older generation I am struggling with my faith it’s either
A: You’ve haven’t fully accepted Christ as your saviour that he died for my sins and rose from the grave and so on and so forth.
Believe it or not is no problem…I believe. Enough said! I just have trouble with all the dogma and doctrine involved sometimes. And how Christian faith can be skewed and manipulated to meet certain people agendas. That I do have a problem with!
B: It’s the Devil! (If its Sue-Woman or my devout Mormon Aunty it’s the…Adversary! Oooooh makes it sound all science fictiony!)
This one I kind of want to focus on a bit…Satan seems to be a scapegoat for a hell of lot things. When really isn’t it the fact people are sinners? I wonder though seeing as he is blamed for pretty much everything including original sin, wouldn’t you be pretty pissed off or perhaps his ego goes up a notch? People seriously give him too much credit! Not that I doubt he means harm to people either. Apparently depression and anxiety are spiritual and the devil is behind it. I do believe there is some spiritual warfare to an extent but some of it could be physical, psychological or caused by repressed emotional injuries and incidents in ones life as well. I seriously feel like bursting into laughter every time Hev-Lady says the reason for any problems, whether they are hers or another’s immediately indicate it’s the Devil.
I’ve always felt some force behind my anxiety. Stupid things can start to send me to the point close to hysterics. The point where I start unravelling and I can feel myself and my sanity being swallowed whole, into a dark hole, but I know for one thing I am not alone and it’s a number of contributing factors.
Anxiety is like how shyness used to over come me when I was younger, but now instead of a big scary monster taunting me it’s a catastrophic fire breathing, fear gripping monster who instead of yanking me away from human contact is grabbing me by the throat and holding me down and when I capsize into uncontrollable emotions points and laughs at me to the point I figure I am better off dead. I feel so depressed and disconnected after an anxiety attack I just want to crawl in a small space and never come out. I am slowly starting to learn to beat Mr. Anxiety Monster with a stick.
Suddenly I feel like I am coming out of the shadows of darkness and walking towards the light, but I still have a long ways to go yet, but I am getting there. It’s writing that sustains me, the pen that is my grace. It’s my way of dealing with my emotions. I sometimes wonder if anyone read my personal journal what they would think. I reckon a lot of people I know and have known through out my eight years of journaling would be mighty pissed off or incredibly surprised. I find I can say so much more when writing rather then speaking if that makes any sense. It’s weird how I attribute writing to my welfare, but not God.
Also I think it’s ironic after going to church for a few months Hev-Lady finally says you can be Christian and not go to church, to which I replied. That’s what I was trying to friggen tell you all those months ago. Now because I gave in and went to church I am on a different path, it’s a good path but I’m not so sure I like it completely or ready for it. I often wonder if it is the charismatic, handsome and charming Pretty Blue Eyes who convinced me to stay even more! Did I go to stop the nagging and please my mom? So I can make googly eyes at Pretty Blue Eyes and his amazing use of words? I doubt it, but then again I still wonder.
P.S. Pretty Blue Eyes, Pretty Blue Eyes, Pretty Blue Eyes, Pretty Blue Eyes!