After Columbine happened, I remember someone in church asking us kids if we would tell the truth if someone put a gun to our head and asked us if we believed in Jesus. I was always ashamed that I would lie to save my own life. I thought for sure that meant I wasn’t really saved and that I would go to Hell if they killed me anyway.
I’ve had a gun pointed at me. Unloaded, but he still tried to pull the trigger to dry fire it. It was another teen from church who was the boyfriend of one of my friends—or the person I thought was my friend who previously asked me if I was a “dyke” because I wasn’t interested in boys or dating and every time she asked me who I had a crush on, I didn’t have an answer. Not too long after she cornered me in gym with that accusation, we went to her boyfriend’s house for some reason. He wanted to show us his dad’s gun. I didn’t want to see it, but this girl practically dragged me into the room and I could never stand up for myself back then. My dad taught me about gun safety and I was freaked out that this guy didn’t know how to safely handle it. He was playing with it. Dry firing it as he pointed it at the floor. Click click click. Then he pointed it at me and I froze up. I don’t remember anything past him “jokingly” aiming the gun at me and squeezing his finger on the trigger. I don’t even know what I said to him.
Looking back on this incident as an adult, I can’t help but think the two of them did it because they hated me. I can’t say for sure, but the “dyke” comment (and the look on her face when she said it—she looked like she wanted to spit on me) days earlier makes me wonder. Did they set out to scare me?
They really did scare me. I quit talking to her at school and she started a rumor that I worshipped trees of all things. I quit going to youth group. I ghosted everyone.
Those two were popular in youth group because of their “godly” relationship. They planned on getting married as soon as possible and she was the type who wanted to force everyone else to be like her. Girls who didn’t date were weird to her.
I’m very glad I was allowed to make my own choices about what religion I believed in, but I’m pretty angry about what I went through when I still went to church. Sure, youth group would go to hockey games, but it wasn’t worth being surrounded by people who might want to harm me and other people who thought dying as a martyr was holy.
i honestly dont want to get better sometimes i just want to rot away on my bed and cry over nothing i want to keep opening my skin and maybe i can gte the ciurage to slit my wrist open WOAH ewww who saids that um ok i dint want comfort i dint know ok bye
