Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 18

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 18

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

Social Anxiety

My social anxiety is at its most vicious when it is working to build my assumptions of what others think of me. It sees an event on the horizon and immediately takes stock of all the people that might be in attendance. Then it methodically mines the recesses of my memories for any little instance that could be used against me. It could be a text from my brother last week that seemed short or a conversation with my sister from five years ago that did not go the way I wanted it to. Whatever it finds gets blown up and connected in some twisted way, then woven together into a film played on a loop until the day of the event.

 

Don’t Speak

I don’t speak about it to the people I should (or anyone, for that matter) because I am not entirely sure I read the situation correctly, to begin with. Social anxiety twists both the moment and the memory of the moment. If I speak about it and have it wrong the situation only worsens.

It is a terrible place to dwell — inside the dark of one’s mind — with no guide and a malevolent force lurking in the shadows.

 

Faith To Overcome

My faith has made me stronger over the last few years. The darkness isn’t quite as dark. The time I’m in it isn’t quite as long. Still, every once in a while, the anxiety weaves its web and ensnares me.

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 18

Just Write Something Damnit — Day 7

This entry is part 5 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

Life-Changing Decisions

I stopped going to church as soon as I was old enough to make that decision on my own.  Back then I had questions (as most children do) about God and our church (as most churches are) was a place of instruction—not a place to ask questions.

Too Hell With You

At one point in my life, I was convinced that my mother believed that I was destined to go to hell because I did not go to church. If I am being honest I still think she believes that. I don’t judge her for it—That is the way she was programmed. I am, however, at peace with the fact that I cannot change her mind one way or the other. It used to bother me to no end. I used to try to explain my deep relationship with God to her in hopes that she would stop worrying and looking at me the way she does every Saturday when she asks me if I will be going to church Sunday. It does not bother me at all now—that is her cross to bear, not mine.

Bullshit, and All That Jazz

The heart of this website lies in those lost, and lonely, moments I spent feeling like God did not love me because I was not like everyone else who was sitting in those pews every Sunday. It’s bullshit—plain and simple. I have known many good people that have spent their entire lives shunning God because they have been constantly told that God shuns them. I have also known many good people who have treated others atrociously because they did not fit their programmed opinion of who God approves of.

A Change Is Gonna Come

Here’s the truth: I (and others) will never be approved of by organized religion. That does not matter anymore. The masses are—slowly, but surely—waking up. They are realizing that it is not what you do one day a week in front of others (that believe the same things you do), but rather what you do every day of the week FOR everyone else that matters.

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