Jesus, I’m pathetic.
Yes. I don’t know what I want. I’m annoyed, certainly. And I know why, even. But it’s so hypocritical and juvenile it makes me sick. I make me sick. They make me sick.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…and I will dwell in the house of the lord forever.”
“To do good is my religion.”
“Good deeds alone will not get you into heaven. Only accepting the Lord Jesus Christ as your saviour will guarantee entrance into heaven.”
Sometimes I think I worry too much about what kind of a person I am. But no one else does. Personally, I think I am a horrible person. The things I do and say on a regular basis are appallingly selfish. The fact that I recognize this and do nothing to remedy it makes me a worse person. I have a serious lack of compassion and understanding. Sympathy. I don’t “feel” for people. I am selfish and completely self-centered.
And yet, I recognize all of this as being wrong. And so I feel an intense need for retribution. I’ve dedicated my life to the service and benefit of the human race. I don’t really care about them, but I feel as though I have to do SOMETHING. I have these talents for a reason, and even if I am a complete failure as a human, if I can help others, I’m not a complete failure at life. I need to give back to make up for my failings, so maybe my entire existence won’t be in vain. It won’t all be a mistake.
I think my need to repent stems from my ever-confused religious beliefs. It’s an obsession for me. I’m constantly debating with myself whether there is a God. I have weeks of immoral behaviour where I tell myself humans are alone in the universe and I don’t have to impress anyone. Yet I also have periods of intense religious belief where I have to repent and rectify my previous actions. Because, “my fear rests not in death, but what fate beyond death lies.” I’m intensely afraid that someday I will be judged unworthy…that someday this act won’t matter, because what I truly am will come forth.
I wish I could just accept God and Jesus and all that good stuff. I wish I had that capacity for faith. I want to believe so badly, because maybe then I could finally rest…but doubt plagues me constantly. And I know that no matter how hard I try and how good I do…if there is a God…it won’t matter. Because to outright deny his existence and refuse his salvation is…bad. Really bad. But I don’t know if there’s a God at all. I feel so fucking foolish all the time, never knowing.
If there is a God, I think I hate him. For always making me wonder and worry. For never coming to me outright and saying, “hey, fuckface, I exist, okay?” For leaving my in this constant and pervasive state of doubt.