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Tuesday, December 8, 2009

I'm afraid. I'm so afraid of dying and finding out my life has been a lie and I'm banished to hell. But that's what it feels like my father is saying to me every time I screw up or do something that falls outside of his definition of right. And every time he says this to me, he uses this patronizing, arrogant tone that makes me just never want to have anything to do with Christianity again. I'm so sick of feeling like I can never do anything right in his eyes, or in the eyes of my mother, or in the eyes of God. Every emotion inside of me that has ever been is being slowly forced away by my parents, who say that I'm not allowed to do things that make me happy; I'm not allowed to have any freedom; I'm too stupid to make my own decisions. I'm supposed to be a good little puppet, allowed only to do the things which they deem "good" and never allowed to let my own voice be heard. If I read a book which they don't think is appropriate, it's as though I've committed murder. They tell me that they want to be a godly family, but do I see them following their own rules? Rarely. Am I allowed to express myself? Never. Are they allowed to dump their crap on me whenever I screw up? Well of course, because they are my parents and I'm just a stupid teenager. Are my emotions any less valuable than theirs? Well, apparently so because that's what they're telling me every time they get angry.

I hate life. I hate it so much. All it has ever done is bring me sadness and pain. I can't wait to die because then I'll be free and I'll be allowed to live with God, where he won't criticize my actions and thoughts.

I don't like it how I never feel as though I can measure up to the people I know in terms of Christianity. Does that mean I'm not a Christian? Does it mean that I'm a terrible person and if I ever tell anyone this that I'll be judged and cast out of the fellowship of God? Would I even care? I don't know. I want to be a Christian.

I'm just so tired of life right now. If I died would anyone even care?