Back on since no one is here
I had a nightmare last night. A person stuck their fingers inside me and hushed me quiet. I could not move. I could not protest. When they finally were done I walked through a room full of various family members and friends, all the church-going christian ones (which makes up pretty much all of them). It was like they smelled my shame and they were disgusted. They knew exactly what happened and they judged me for it.
Those kinds of dreams really mess me up. Some days I think I am over the shame of the things that have happened to me but I still find myself afraid of the ones I love ever finding out and judging me for it. Blaming me. I have worked so hard not to blame myself, but the way I am, it is more like a validation of what I already believed about myself rather than an uneducated, um-empathetic, shortsighted accusation.
I cannot shake the belief that I am a bad person. I am always waiting to mess up or do something wrong so I can resort to self annihilation of sorts. It’s a terrible mess of a thought process. But I have been doing it since I could remember. So, I always wonder; Did religion cause the path of self-destruction, or did religion validate my need for a path of self-destruction?











