I put little stock in counseling, simply because it doesn’t work for me. That’s reasonable. right? That’s why I’m not going back. Because contrary to the initial irrational paranoid belief held by not me, I was not ***** by anyone this last July, I am not an altered boy.
Repression? Obsessions? Depressions? You’re right, in a sense. I was not ***** by one man this last July, I was ***** by the whole church for the past 18 years. I learned, or perhaps deduced, from Sunday School that all *** is sin that inanimate objects had a goodness or badness about them that Satan was in my head (by this I was terrified) that all my friends were going to Hell (by this I rebuked them and was never forgiven) that its true: my parents would have gotten me ****** to death in biblical times because they love me that I could choose who I was attracted to (apparently by watching straight ****) that God needs money that the Internet is of the devil >mfw intellectual open market that I could only achieve ****** once in a lifetime >mfw I came that God’s love is conditional that electronics are a sin if they make noise and are inside a specific building that all Muslims are terrorists that I’m worthless because I’m a sinner that I’m inherently evil.
And I still miss it sometimes. I miss the taste of Christ’s ****.