What Matters Most.

So I had this long blog that I wrote a few days ago, but my internet shit out before I saved it;  now I’m writing this. 

I like my job. 

Physically speaking, there is no real reason to buy a gym membership now, because it’s literally cardio and lifting stuff all day long. That’s awesome to me. In the morning waking up it is tough, but at least I know I’m getting there.

There are a lot of dogs at this place, who are either extremely nervous or disabled/sick. Many come on a daily basis for day care. I know they all know I’m a “good one”. I know that I help them feel better after interacting with them. I also know they look forward to seeing ME. That’s a good feeling to have, because it is real and rewarding. I was told my boss that I am doing an exceptional job. Other higher ups have said the same things.

I don’t know how much better of a compliment or validation I can get. I’ve been straight up honest about myself to them, and so for them to come out and say multiple times that I’m basically killing it…well no one there knows how much it means to me. 

It motivates me in general.

I feel fortunate that I’ve found something that suits me, and helps me focus on the positive. I actually will have some money now, to be able to meet some other goals that need to *met. 

My kids birthdays are both this month. My eldest daughter yesterday, and my eldest son’s is tomorrow, on the 30th. I still remember how upset my eldest was that her brother’s birthday was literally two days after hers. I had to smile at the thought of it because I do understand. I think everybody wants a time where they matter most. (or a month) 😊

My damn vagina not cooperating. Hahaha.

Anyways Happy Birthday babies. I love you so much. I could never be more lucky, *than to have the privilege of having you in my life. 

I also know all of the other stuff, but I want you to know that I try to be a better person today, and you guys are the reason. You are the most important things in my life. I hope I can truly show you with my actions, and you will know one day.

I feel the need to write it here, in case you come across this blog one day. 

I’m six months, 3 days sober today. And it’s because I know for once in my life what’s really important. That’s my sobriety, kids, family and friends that truly love me, my job, my goals, being a positive influence to the world. 

I am grateful for my life, and the people in it *that truly value me. 

Free writing is my forte’, because I can be just me; and I’m alright with it.  

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

Untitled.

I wonder what the morning will bring; 

For now, I will count the stars.
My hope comes in waves and soft whispers in the night.

It is now that I want to remember.

Moments…stolen in time and tucked away in the deepest parts of me that will always remember.

Pieces of me that I can never get back, thrown about the remnants of what remains. 
Every day feels like rain until I remember that I am my own sun when I want to be. 

The sun suits me much better than rain. In the rain, it is true that I am closer to myself; but the sun is where I long to be most of the time.

With you. 

I am looking for the rainbow, because I know it will come. 

You always look up, and it’s just there. 

It comforts me. Because I know the sun is coming.

Maybe that’s weird, but that’s just me.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of Me 

5 months, 16 days.

I’m tired of feeling inadequate, and having no one understand me.

The reasons are valid to ME.

If I was a star. I would be the one you could always see, but never touch.

My light would be different, depending on the weather.

I’m not a star; I’m just an ordinary girl; but I can hope that when my light dims here on earth, it’ll go to a way better place… where love isn’t so hard, and makes sense. 

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

I’m at the Marriott in Chicago, and it feels like Ohio tbh…

It’s one of those days for me, where even the tiniest steps forward, mean something.

I’m working on my patience, and self-love; those are both processes that have been harder for me to do… The fact that I am doing well, and staying calm despite my anxiety today, is a really positive thing for me; for sure.

I haven’t called myself a fucking idiot today, at all.

WIN.

Thank you Dr.Phil…lol. Again.

The only thing I can do today is take it as it comes, and not talk down to myself or pop off, when I get frustrated. Because I am frustrated, and I have been popping off.

It’s technically a vacation of sorts that I’m on with T.

It hasn’t much felt like that at all for either of us, but I am still grateful that we are here together.

One thing I know for sure, is that I’m a master of making plans for my life, and then doing the chicken shit and never following through on them…or doing the exact opposite of the plan.

I don’t want to do that anymore.

I’m afraid to fail, but I’m more afraid of not TRYING to succeed at this point.

I hope that six months from now, I will be in a much better, financial state and much more cynical- free as well. 

I’m sober, and the weight and bullshit of the world, can only affect me, if I let it. 

Today I’m not going to let it, because I know that I am worthy, and can be successful in life; even though my story doesn’t fit the box.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

A blog for me…Four months, twenty-nine days sober. 

First day that I have not woke up nauseous in a good while.

I’m grateful. 

I’m awake and motivated, and feeling rather confident.

I don’t feel manic or depressed.

It was a good morning.

I do know why. 

It’s because my anxiety is lower and I feel better in my head and heart about my relationship and life situation. 

I’m grateful.

I’m having needed discussions that are bringing me closer together with T, and filling up the empty spaces that I have inside too…because I get further understanding of him and of me as well.

I’m grateful for that, in all of it’s sticky facets.

Work is work, and that’s why they call it “work”.

It’s a scary feeling sometimes for me personally (I won’t lie); it’s part of my disease I think; 

but usually after you work at something consistantly, you are able to achieve something significant afterwards that matters to YOU.

Whether that be money, clarity, peace of mind, or whatever…something you need or want for your life.

It’s generally worth something in some way in the end, if you continue to work for it.

I guess I’m starting to feel like the steps will add up if I continue to build them for myself, and for T. Going up, suits us way better than going down, and that’s why I’m grateful my anxiety is down…and I feel better today. It allows me to focus on things I need to change in myself, and other things as well that are important to me; like my “career”. 

Whatever that is, or ends up being. Lol.

Every day is up and down naturally, but having needed discussions when we need to, puts a great deal of positivity back in me again.

I again today will actively try to be a better person by controlling what I choose to focus on, and not allowing negative thoughts to take over me.

I know that works for me. 

Learning about myself and how much I have things about me that I need to change was extremely overwhelming at first. 

REAL life, and my current state of mind these last months, has made me realize quickly, that I should embrace any challenge that I know will only make me a better, stronger person in the end…so I’m trying daily to do that; and today it’s just DO. 

I’m not trying today, I’m doing…

That’s why I’m glad I feel better.

Because I know if I can continue to be on the same level as T and work with him, the BS we go through, and will go through together will be manageable.

The shit we’ve been through will stay where it lies, dead and buried in the past, because that’s were it belongs and we can leave it there safely.

We can then focus on the things we need to do separately, to get “OUR” lives together; where we dream it should be; as a UNIT.

After the storm, comes the rainbow. 

I do feel a level of peace.

Thank God for herbal plants, and a man that truly loves me enough to fix himself from the inside out too; to make us healthier together.

I think that’s a true committment. 

I’m glad I am not afraid to admit my weaknesses, or to stand up for myself and my convictions.

I need to focus on listening more when I need to, and remembering always where I came from; and I know it.

I’m glad I’m working for my future today…and that I feel like I can, and it will mean something good to me in the end.

I’ll do what I have to, to make that feeling last, because I dig it fully. It suits me all day.

I am working towards staying strong as an individual, as well as being a better partner for the man I want to spend my life with, while still remaining myself (in better version like).

It IS indeed, a needed process.

It always starts with what I decide to focus on.

Today I am Seizing this day!

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

The title goes here. Free writing.  

There is no pre-determined guarantee for relationships.

Love is often confused with many other things, but when it is real; the “feel it in your bones” feeling of love, never goes away.

It is always there despite, no matter what the situation…. for better or worse.

It’s waiting in the back of me every time; to love again; when the trials of our lives ease up, and I come back down to reality. I cannot stop the feeling no matter how hard I try to, and you will have to make me hate you, to get me to stop.

That’s ME fully, that’s HOW I AM. That’s how I love.

Please don’t make me hate you.

I have always loved hard.

I fall too easily, I trust too easily, I believe what people tell me too easily….all the time…I always have. 

I like to believe that I’m worth love. 

But the kind of love, and the idea of love I have always searched for, is something that I can’t ever seem to fully get all the way. 

I’ve had two failed marriages; one 10 months, another 13 years. A five-year, online, long-distance, fuck up my life completely, cluster fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk of a “relationship”; and now T.

Those ARE my major relationships in my adult life.

No one compares to T.

I struggle every day to be the kind of woman that T deserves. I know I am failing, and then I ask myself why, and what I will do about it. 

I wish really, that there was a guarantee that we will make it; but there’s not. 

The only guarantee there is, is the one that I make to myself. 

I will continue to be honest about my feelings, needs and wants.

I don’t believe in hiding who you are from anyone anymore… especially the man you love.

I know that things aren’t perfect in my life right now…or my relationship.

But I do know that T is the only man, who has made me feel like I deserved love. And I never thought I’d ever feel that from a man. I never had until him. 

I guess that’s why they say love is patient.

I hope that I can work out my life, so that I can be the woman, that I know I am.

The damage I carry is real, and I’ve had more than I care to have these last months, and it fucks up everything…to the point that I have to make the choice to stop letting it infect, every good thing that I touch. 

It’s hard when there’s stuff you need to talk about and understand, but you know there’s probably no way you ever could, because you weren’t given the option upfront to know about it.

I can’t figure out what I could have done differently…except for me to do the exact opposite thing, and I obviously made the choice to be in this relationship. 

 I’m not a quitter. 

Every day is a new day to try. 

“Love without Limits, Fight without Fear.” 

It’s tattooed on my arm, but what does that mean to ME?

I made it up. Truth. Because I had made a choice that day to try to understand myself; and those are two things I try to do.

I hope there is a God AND that he will help me.

This is a free writing ramble.

I am sober, alive, confused, hurt, determined, and in love.

I need a miracle to fix my brain, and my life. 

I’m really just trying to be as positive as I can right now;

And I don’t feel bad for writing any of this, because it’s gotten me to this very moment.

Love yourself.

J. Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

I need a vacation from myself…for real.

For a long time, I guess I was “whiny”. You always look back on yourself, and most times I’m like “Wtf Jen, you were really stupid, and are.” 

Yep. 

Every day I play the “I love you” game with myself, in hopes that someday I may feel whole enough; to not destroy myself with my own mind anymore.

I am definitely my own worst enemy;  because of it…I push people away to a safe distance.

I am easily ALWAYS going to be a work in progress; and I’m trying to embrace that fact daily, because I think I put a lot of unnecessary stress on myself; that makes me lose the parts of myself that I DO like. 

It’s hard. Because I don’t want to feel like this inside. And it’s hard to explain to people, because I really don’t much know why I have such ups and downs every single day except that I am bipolar; I’m not willing to go on synthetic meds again; to zombie myself again; to try and stop it.

I do wish I could stop it though. 

I have tried for my whole life; to no avail. I gained a bunch of NOTHING doing that.

Who is terrified of failing so much; or being disliked so much…that she doesn’t even start?

ME.

I know I am better than that, also that that’s not true.

I am sober. I am also alive.

I see the way people look at me and I wish I could disappear.

When you struggle in your own soul, sometimes it is one of the lonliest places you can ever be.

It’s not a good feeling at all, and that’s why I wouldn’t wish it on anyone at all.  

I know just writing this will help me refocus and move on for today. 

I am not crazy. 

I am a broken spirit who searches for light in my own darkness.

I hope today will be better than it started out.

Love Yourself…I’m trying to too.

J. Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

So I’m feeling really positive; days like these, make the hard days worth it; Dr. Phil is the man… 

I think Dr. Phil is a pretty smart guy. 

He’s hardcore. NO BS. He makes sense because he spells it out logically and directly… and has a plan to turn it around most times, that’s doable.

If you do it.

It might sound cliche’, but it’s what I’m doing right now while I’m writing this blog. 

I’m trying to keep a routine, and form some sort of daily agenda that will help keep me moving forward. This will help me immensely to blog more often. I start in the late -morning, and finish it up later if it can’t be edited in the allotted time-frame….like today.

I’ve found that I thrive on structure, so although I’m not working and on SSI, I get up every day with T at 6 am, before he goes to work…and even on the weekends (Lol). I’m just used to it now, and I actually enjoy the quality time we get to spend together. It’s OUR routine. 

We did that also when we were drinking on the weekends; but we don’t drink anymore, and T has a much better job and working enviroment, doing what he loves now. I need to fill my day, with steps to a better place as well, so that I can accomplish my own goals too.

I am more than ready, and have the emotional support behind me now;  I am going to make it happen. I’m working on this every day. 

A daily routine/schedule, that involves me scheduling the work to get there, is what I’m trying to do, and build.

I’ve got plenty of things to do, and eventually I won’t be on SSI full-time, and my plan is to get off it all together again and start living my dreams; which really just means being a positive influence in my kids lives; being a healthy partner and best friend to T; spending time on and with true friends; forming some sort of working relation with my sister’s again; making sure my mother sees all us girls together again someday and talking and sisterly like we should be (I hope); making money doing what I’m good at doing and enjoy; helping others through my story; living with a purpose, instead of just a sick existence.

I need the routine to keep me on track. 

Seems like It’ll help a whole lot. 

……………………………………………………..
I’ve had some good, positive and hard growth these past days.

It’s been life-changing. 

I really don’t know how else to put it. That just doesn’t really happen that much for me.

The peaces clicked together, and I have great hope.

I KNOW that not every day is going to be rosy and life goes in that way; it just does and this is MY story. But I’m changing all around as a person in a good way, and it makes me want to keep going. 

It agrees with me.

I have so much to change still; but it will be worth it, and it will happen. 

I know my kids are worth it, 

I will be there for them in any way I can. 

I’m going to do this in the following ways:

1. I’m going to work daily to stay healthy and sober. 

2. I’m going to keep consistent contact with my 3 children, and not make plans or promises, that I know might not work out. It causes me to fail and not follow through, and cause hurt. (and then I’m afraid to contact them.) This won’t be happening anymore. I also hope I can work out a way to communicate better with my ex in the future, because I WOULD like to see them at some point, as is doable and agreeable by both parties…when things are better.

3. Positivity is what I want to remember; but I’m going to ask for help if I need it. (That means not being afraid to admit I’m upset about something and need to talk it out.

4. I’m going to work my ass off. 

5. I’m not going to stop until I get to where I need to be.

6. I’m going to believe in myself and remember that life is really about the journey…not the destination….just breathe.

I figure it’s a matter of time before I see results…it’s a no- brainer if I don’t stop. 

I want my life to mean something before I go.

And it will. 

That’s the part of the story I can control.

I’m really happy because I feel like there’s finally hope; and when there is hope, there is always a way to build on it. 

I am 99 days sober. The Fourth of July will mark 100;  I’ll make sure of it.  🙂

Love yourself. 

J. Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

I Struggle With My Faith, and I Don’t Want to Anymore. The Root of the Root.

Here’s the disclaimer. 

I know a lot of people follow me here, because they want to see the messed up things I’m gonna’ say next. That’s fine. 

This may not be the blog post for you though; because it is long, and recaps my struggle with faith and childhood. It’s a self- validation piece, and my life truly unfolded. 

It was hard to write; and even harder to post.
I appreciate anybody’s time in advance, that does want to read further. 

Thank you. It means more than you know. Xo

-Jenni

……………………………………………………..

I have struggled with my faith since the age of nine, when my Father first took us to church.

I’m trying to come to some sort of terms with it, because it has been weighing on my mind for many reasons; for many, many years.

I’m getting older. I’m letting things go that have infected my soul for so long…FINALLY. I need to find some sort of peace with my faith so that I can nurture it, and possibly build on it more, so I can have closure and true peace inside.

I feel I need to do this, at this point. There are holes in me that will not close without it; I’ve tried, and I know this.

Lately, I feel a shift in my way of thinking regarding “God” and his existence. The ghosts of the past make me question today. The only thing I really know for sure is, is that I do not know what comes after this life at all.

As a child, I grew up in a house where the only father I had ever known drank too much. The F- bomb was dropped as easily as the porn mags, that were just laying around the living area of our downstairs basement, in plain site of a child.

It was all about my father, nothing else. He did what he wanted, and my mother did what he said to do, and was a good wife to him. She loved him, and she loved us as well. 

I never knew from day to day, what mood my father was going to be in, or if I would get hurt by him that day. Sometimes things seemed normal”ish”; but it wouldn’t take long for him to fly off the handle without warning, and become way too agressive with my mother and myself for certain. He caused physical and mental damage, over and over, that hurt us both. Sometimes he would even lash out at my younger sisters too, when I didn’t get there fast enough to get in the way. I’m sure they don’t remember a lot of it early on, and I am SO grateful for that; but I still do. He was cruel and not loving by standard; and that’s how it was for me.

Mostly it was a life of uncertainty, mental chaos, fear and pain; in some regard; whether it was physical, emotional or worse.  I was always on edge, and scared. It also was a lot of avoiding anywhere my father was… at all times… if I could at all manage it. 

I hated him, but I loved him as well because he was my Father. Most don’t understand that. 

It’s not my issue.

…………………………………………………..

On the outside, we looked like a regular, (lower) middle-class family. It was my father, mother, two younger sisters (my dad’s real kids), and me. My father was a welder and a sprinkler fitter by trade with the Union. We always lived in a house, and had food to eat. We took vacations every year. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same school our entire school years, k-12. My mother was a “typical” housewife.

It looked, on the surface, to be quite normal; although I know for a fact that many people around us at that time (adults), knew that it wasn’ t. The truth is, I personally lived a very disfunctional childhood. I was fully terrified of my home life, because I was being abused on a regular basis, in various ways. That’s being about as forthright and vague as I can be about it, without getting fully into it; and to prevent more slander from complete strangers that have no clue, and like to send me BS emails and messages about how I’m a pathological liar and making it all up…

You can ask my Mother about it…Enough said.

It pisses me off that I have to deal with that factor.

It’s relevant information none the less, and you need the back- story to understand the whole blog.


Anyways….

My grandmother somehow talked my father into going to her “Christian Reformed” church one Sunday. I was about 9 years old, I believe. I didn’t understand who God even was, because there was NO religion in our family at all, and I had never heard of him up until then. I can’t remember any of my close, or extended family; besides my grandmother; ever going to church or anything. Christmas was just Christmas. Easter was just Easter. There was no talk of spirituality, faith, or God at all in our family…ever.

For some reason or another, my father decided that we would go to church. He latched on to the concept quickly, and our family then started going to church every week…twice on Sunday, and once on Wednesday.

I’d like to think it was because he wanted to change his ways; but that didn’t end up happening at all.

It actually got way more fucked up.

……………………………………………………..

I DO remember many good memories about that church. 

Christmas programs, Sunday school,  Calvanetts (like girl scouts but church group), many gatherings and social events, Bible school. I know a great deal about the Bible and I read it once, straight through. It took me three years. Lol. Bet you didn’t know that about me. 🙂

The point though is that there were some good people there for sure. I was in all regards “forced” into the atmosphere; but I do have to say that IT WAS comforting in some way, to be around father-figures that acted like proper fathers. Before that, I was totally afraid of men, and I would hide a lot. I had a few teachers there though, that I respected and listened to; It’s because they were all kind to me, and each of them seemed like the kind of father, I’d wished I’d had.

It’s kind of sad when you think about it. 

I was often jealous of other families that were loving and happy. True fact.

Unfortunately, I also remember that most of the people at “that church”, acted like they just wanted to show off what they were wearing that week and what they had. It was apparent. No one ever clapped after a song performance or a congratulatory mention to someone from the Pastor; which I thought was totally weird and not cool at all. It’s as if they were above showing emotion. The worst part was that the church mostly treated my family like we were less-fortunate and less-than as well, because we had nowhere near as much money as the rest of the congregation that went there….we were charity cases, basically. They used to give us care packages on our porch and just leave them there, and I’m pretty sure they were helping my parents with financial strains at one point. (This is not a fact, just a hunch) The point is, I can STILL remember the stares when we walked down the center isle of the church to be seated every week. I absolutely hated it because I knew why they stared at us. It’s funny how people think that kids can’t pick up on things like that; but it’s not true…they definitely can.

I felt like I didn’t belong there at all; but since I did not have any choice but to go, I adapted as I always did. 

After a while, that’s when the religious indoctrination started by my father.

……………………………………………………

It is hard to believe in God, when you are a child who does not understand what is happening to her; and why her father hates her, and hurts her. I often would ask questions about God to my father; which were always met with anger, degradation, and punishment. I once had to stand up at the dinner table for three hours and be lectured and talked down to,  because I asked my father “How he knew that God existed.” 

I was ten.

You see, even at that age, I knew what he was doing to me and my family was not right, and that it didn’t make sense what he was saying; his actions never matched his words.  I also knew that no one seemed to care what was happening to me. 

Everybody thought my dad was just awesome. He wasn’t. He fed and clothed us, and provided for us; but he was not a good father to me at all. He caused trauma that I’ve carried with me, my entire life. 

I don’t have any regrets saying it either, because it’s the truth…and he and I and my mother, all know it.

The truth hurts.

Sorry Dad, but I’m writing this to self-validate, because I deserve to.

…………………………………………………..

I remember one Sunday, our pastor asking for people who wanted to be saved to “Come up to the front and take the Lord’s hand. The Lord would help us find our way and save us all from despair.” 

I went up.

I wanted to be saved so bad. I did feel the Lord in that moment. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed, as hard as I could for his healing. I wanted my father to stop hurting me, my mom,  and my sisters; and I wanted God to please, please help. I truly believed that he would take the pain away, and fix my life and my family.

It didn’t happen at all.

The same things continued to happen, and as I got older…it got worse.

……………………………………………………

was baptized along with my parents and sisters, when I was 11 years old.

My father then became a Deacon of the church.

What I will never get, is that my father would sometimes openly abuse me in front of church people, and NO ONE did ANYTHING, but look the other way. 

One time my family went on a camping trip with another church family, and my father gave me a black eye because I was teasing my sister when we were supposed to be sleeping. 

He punched me numerous times in the face, like a man would hit a man. 

What do you do?

The next day my mother actually had the nerve to ask me, if my father had done that to me. I love my mother more than anything, but I was so enraged in that moment I could literally say nothing, because I wanted to hurt her the way that I was hurting inside….and on my face. 

That’s fucked up.

I was thirteen.

It took me a long time to realize that my mother was a victim as well; but I do know that now, and understand.

She told me not to say anything, like she told me the first time my father gave me a black eye, when I was six. She told me to behave. I didn’t tell anybody. The church family we were with had two small children even. They saw me and said absolutely nothing. Everybody went on about the vacation as if it hadn’t even happened, and I know they all heard it.  That’s when I pretty much figured I was FUCKED, and this God everybody was talking about, was not gonna’ save me at all. 


My father eventually had a long-running affair in the end with another woman. He left my mother, my sisters, myself…AND the church.

Then the church left my mother, and she almost killed herself over it all.

My parents were divorced when I was 14. 

My sister’s were devastated and cried and cried. 

I cried because I was happy my father was finally gone, and could not hurt us anymore. 

Yeah.

By the way, my mom is an amazing woman. She worked her ass off to keep us in that house, clothes on our backs, food in our stomachs…and she did it all without help from the government. 

She IS the reason I am strong. She IS the reason my eldest daughter is strong. 

It took me a long time to realize this. She kept ALL us girls together, when we were all falling apart and had no one but each other. 

Every day I’m thankful she is my mom.

Just wanted to say that because I love her, and I respect who she is and what she sacrificed for me.

She raised my daughter until she was 13 years old because I knew I couldn’t. If not for her, I would never know my daughter because she would be with an adoptive family right now instead. 

I’m so grateful for her. She always loves me no matter what. 

I love you.

Thank you.

……………………………………………………..

Ok . Back on track with the religion thing. Sorry.

…………………………………………………….

I guess my whole issue is; I feel most people hide behind their religion, and are totally different people when it’s all said and done. 

I fully respect my friends that are passionate about their faith in God, and practice it. I have no issues with anyone believing what they want, because I feel like it’s as personal as your life-journey is. Everyone finds their own way and belief, no two ways or stories are exactly the same, unless you’re in a cult.(lol)  

Ok, that was bad; but wtf.?

There are however, a lot of shady, scummy, horrible people in the world that use God as a cover, and those people are not godly at all. I know this because I’ve lived it.

Anyways… 

My childhood experiences and church involvement, have tainted every single thing that comes to religion for me. It’s sad that I’ve felt guilty for talking about it in detail, until now. After my son passed, I said “Fuck it” all together and just started trying to see things for what they were . 

My core beliefs are as follows:

* I don’t like organized religion. 

*I do not believe the Bible is the do all, end all; or you’re going to Hell, at all. I don’t even know if it’s real, or if there is a Heaven or Hell, and really I think it’s just a bunch of stories, and totally hypocritical and perverted to say the least.

I don’t think God is coming back, or he’d be here by now. Don’t people consider this at all?

I don’t know really how to say all this without offending someone, but more people have been killed in the name of religion, than anything else; and that is a fact. 

It makes no sense.


STILL……

There’s got to be something. 

I refuse to believe that this life is all for nothing. I refuse to believe that the despair and suffering of the world, is all for nothing. I refuse to believe that nature is as amazing as it is, without something or someone having a hand in that. I want to see my son again, and some other people too.

But I really don’t know what or who (if anything), is responsible.

I am a much more  spiritual person, than I am a religious person. I think it’s the most logical way to go. 

Wierdly though, a lot of things have been happening in my life that cause me to reconsider trying out just ONE service some time; in “that church”…. just to see how I feel afterwards. 

Maybe that is highly hypocritical, but I feel like I owe “God”, another chance..if he exists.

It’s kind of freaking me out too, because I’m scared to death of the insides of churches, and will not go in them. 

I just want to feel that feeling I had again, when I was up at the front of the church, and truly believed he could save me when I was 11 years old.

For what it’s worth, I hope I at least can find some sort of comfort and direction, and maybe let the ghosts from my childhood finally pass on to the other side, where they belong for good good good.

That can’t be a bad thing, and I think I owe it to myself to walk in that church and find out once and for all. 

I am not a child anymore; and my father is no longer able to cause me damage. The damage I now do regarding the whole thing, is to myself. Hence the struggle.

Even though I don’t speak to him; I have for the most part accepted that it can’t be changed. 

I will always remember though.

It’s because I understand that his Father hurt him too, and it is a cycle, that I can take a different look at it now. I am also a person who knows about alcoholism, and hurting people you’re supposed to love. Also because I love him; he’s the only father I’ve ever known. 

And that’s why I know there must be something. 

Two years ago, I never would have been able to say that about him. I let it affect my whole life, and way of thinking. But that’s over now.

That didn’t happen by itself. 

I have control of my life now.

I guess I’ll update, and let you know how it goes. 

Thanks for reading. I haven’t talked this extensively about my reasons for my beliefs and how they got there in open written forum before; and so that in itself is completely freeing. 

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME