I swear on He who lives.

It’s dark. I just released some frustration through masturbation, and I’m not okay with it of course. I didn’t look at porn, and I didn’t think of naked women, I just… It still sucked. I still felt horrible. I hate masturbation. My point of view on it within the last year has changed dramatically. If you’re not christian, I don’t expect you to understand this next part, but afterward I was just lying on my bed, whispering passionately “I’m sorry Lord, I’m sorry” and I felt so bad. It’s so easy to speak to God when you know He’s there. That’s kind of an obvious statement. I mean, when you’re alone on your bed after you’ve done something you’re ashamed of and has proven in the past to separate you from what sustains you…that’s when it’s easy to talk to God.

So it’s kind of rough getting used to living with my mother and step-dad. They go to bed at nine p.m., and I live right across the hall from their room, so I pretty much am holed up in here until I go to bed, usually around 2 it seems still. And I have to be quiet. And, a lot of my friends, or at least the people I would hang out with a lot, were my roommates, who would be up at least as long as I was.

So I’m just feeling alone. I’m not even lonely really (yet), just alone.

I thought that I would focus more on God, being here. Maybe that just happens on weekends, when there’s some actual time to spend with my family. I thought I’d see them more, but I get home and an hour later they sleep.

We should make some family time between 8 and 9. This is important to me, even if I’ve been withdrawn from them since I moved in.

It’s so quiet. I know God is here, as He’s everywhere, and He says hello in my chest, and He lets me know He’s with me, in my depths of despair and my aloneness, in my successes and my happiness, in the quietness of this room, in the loud yelps coming from a bar from a person He loves who happens to be very, very drunk. I should study His Word in this quietness.

What a mystery everything is.