There's More Than Enough Hate for Everyone: Why I Don't Believe in God Anymore
Trigger warning/Disclaimer: This post mentions self harm and talks of suicide. Please approach with caution.
She was there, listening to her son on the phone, crying how he was fighting the urge to take his life. She did nothing. I fought for my life alone. Their were no words of comfort. No 911. No calls to family. No rushing to my side. There was no God, angels of the Lord pushing me back from the ledge. No devils or demons telling me to get it over with. It was just me. In the dark. In a parking lot. This woman of God did nothing. She didn't even warn my husband of my feelings or how I was suffering. God di nothing because there is no God. I still remember telling my therapist, screaming really, "She left me alone to die!" But I survived despite her sloth.
Parts of me truly believed that my mom genuinely wanted me dead rather than tell her church, her friends, and others the truth about her gay son. Sympathy is fuel to her. Just imagine how much sympathy she would get for having a dead son. Gay sons don't garner much sympathy for Christian mothers. But dead sons do.
This was the day I look back on when I wonder where exactly my faith began to break down. It was a long process to deconstruct and is still ongoing, but that was where it started.
