Most people have parents or grandparents who teach them. Not me. My mother lives in Toutle, WA, and my dad shuts himself up in his room all day. My grandparents care for me, but never truly taught me. What my dad taught by example was watching porn is a good thing, having sex without marriage is fine, and to play games all day long. My grandfather taught me that I can curse and hate people all I want and still be a Christian. My grandmother taught me that you cannot break addictions.
The only good thing I learned from them is to love family and my grandpa teaching me to pray every night. I lived with my father, but it felt more like living with a stranger that pays rent than a father. My mother cares about me a lot, and looks for every chance to see me, but I know almost nothing about her. Hell, it took till I was 14 to find out she's a wiccan, and 18 till I figured out my dad's an atheist.
So who taught me how to be who I am? For the biggest part of my life so far, music is what taught me. Music taught me about life and love, but it still left a hole in me. I was suicidal in middle school, and what music taught me didn't get me out of it. I needed a father. Not having an actual father messed me up in more ways than I can count, and what's worse is he's at the end of the hallway and that statement is true. Fathers in America are failing. I could go on rambling about how this is true, but unless people ask for a post about it, I won't.
I had to find a father figure, so I turned to the television. I learned; life is bad, and it only gets worse. That's what they taught me. Actors and musicians getting arrested, ODing on drugs, having sex with underage girls to feel younger, etc. etc. Those people messed me up even more.
At one point I said "Screw it!" and went to a bridge on my path home from school. There was traffic below and I knew this was my chance to end it all. But I heard someone tell me not to jump, and looked around; no one was there. I wasn't even on the ledge, I was just looking out, so people couldn't have figured I was going to jump. I left and had forgotten about all that. But it peaked my interest. That day set off a chain of events that I wasn't prepared for.
I went deeper and deeper into depression, hatred for God and all He does. I felt I should never have been born, and music didn't teach me to get away from that. Is this how I'm supposed to live? Does He want me alive just so I can be tormented? These thoughts came through my mind so much that I turned to magick to find the answers. All it did was make a ladder of cards. I climbed up and up, beginning to see light, then I made one small cough and it all fell down. Back into the darkness I went, and kept digging deeper.
The darkness around me became my father; telling me I'm worthless and that I should just end it like I was about to that day. Then come along a beautiful woman, and she made me look up. I climbed and climbed and in order to keep climbing I had pray. I stopped at the point where I was almost out, and began to think: "What if the world up there is worse than the world down here?" I struggled with this part of the climb. I decided to look, and when I got out, I saw light touch everything, I saw love.
I came to God on my own, because I learned how to do it. I wasn't taught, but I saw, and I fell in love with what I saw. God is my Father now, and Love is my teacher. I wasn't taught by my family and friends, all they had was all that pulled me down. Who teaches me now if the one who showed me what true love is, taught me that there's more than meets the eye.
ThatGuy
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