Today I went to church. Shh! don’t tell my family. And most definitely don’t tell them this is my third week. Or that I enjoyed it. A few years ago, after my biological father, Hod, died, I excepted my disbelief in a deity. I’ve possessed a lot of doubt, I’m sure that is common but being queer I took the commonly outspoken religious stance on the subject with the pain religion has caused our world Terrorism, Spanish inquisition, holy wars, etc… to justify my ‘Atheism.’ For the first year I was not quiet about it either. Whenever someone would listen I spewed every thought on the subject.This summer a new friend told me how he came to believe and I have not been able to get it out of my head.
Today the Pastor gave visitors a chance to introduce themselves and when they did they received a gift. Not able to think about anything but all the horrible things I have said about religion I zoned out. I still haven’t decided what I’m doing there.
I’ve been feeling the proverbial tug for quite a while, but until two weeks ago chose to ignore it.
A few weeks ago I stopped my antidepressant. I told my doctor about the decision and he canceled our next appointment so I went ahead. I tapered off over two months. A million things on my plate I would break down into tears everyday, towards the end when getting back for the day. I was on the floor one Saturday when I began to think hey maybe I should go to that church I’ve rented a garden plot at for two years. When I got the courage to wash my face. I googled to get the times of service and showed up forty-five minutes late the next day. Just in time to hear the pastor‘s sermon on loving. Loving those around you, loving family, of course loving god and most importantly letting others see how you love God. The main door to the sanctuary was locked so I came in the side door I stopped in the hallway listening to the pastor speak and broke into tears. After a few seconds I started to laugh, because I thought it was a cliché. I was soon back to tears.
But there I was listening to a sermon about love on the verge of hating myself. Every other day I wanted to stick a gun in my mouth or swallow an entire bottle of mood stabilizers while chewing my antidepressants. Constantly making poor decisions I was never getting anything done. It seemed my life only existed to pile up around me. I still had not completed a single video for film class. The point is I was resisting something. I fear I still am. But I’ve almost completed my kitchen, something I’ve been working on starting for years, I’ve begun to workout 100% on my own effort, I’ve been posting on my blog, worked on a video for my vlog and have been working on my novel, speaking of which I should be doing that now. I’m worried some of this will fall apart again. I worry a lot. But I have to just remind myself: My current life goals consist of Completing a Triathlon, writing a book and continuing to improve my sociability .