Melony Louise's Natural Habitat

So I'm making a blog post that's a bit odd for me. Like, in the sense that a month ago it wouldn't have happened. Topic being, religion.

Don't worry, I'm not trying to get you to join anything scary, but I do warn that if you're sensitive about controversial topics that you run screaming.

So first, my religious background is not much. My associations with Christianity are not pretty, thanks to the beyond fucked shit my dad's mother has pulled on my family immediate and otherwise. I've been raised to be open, except to Christianity. To be fair, I think once you realize your daughter's been sexually assaulted in the name of the Christian God, it becomes a hell of a lot fucking easier to generalize that aspect of humanity to be pure evil.

And frankly, I had no want to obtain a religion or a viewpoint. I'll know when I'm dead, I think I can be fine with that. In hindsight, I realize the only thing keeping me from being atheist was fear. Because according to atheism, when you die, nothing happens. Worms eat your corpse. Mmm, yeah, I wanna go along with that.

About a week ago, I went to a youth group service. I pretty much just went to hang out with Nessa, maybe get some proof that not all Christians hate Muslims and Roman Catholic and Gays and Halloween and yeah. The guy was this healer I still find to be a fraud despite the experience. However, I felt a presence upon his command. I'm totally suspicious, I want none of if, and bamf, there's a presence. It scared me so much I left the service for about five minutes.

I told my mom. She sees it as a joke. My problem is not disagreement, my problem is the attempts to convince me I was suckered into some fraud, that I fell for vibrating floorboards, subliminal messages, whatever.

Tonight, I go to a battle of the bands (by the way, my boys Vyncent Flaw won one grand and two professional EPs!) and there's a little closet sized room for spiritual readings. The girls (Jess and Chelsea, I remembered!) explain that they're more prophecies, visions from God. "We can't tell you your mom's maiden name, what'll happen tomorrow with your crush, we just hope to say something insightful." I go first, and they hit all three things on my mind. My confusion about the previous experience, my concerns about going for whatever and failing, and my feelings of ultimate awkwardness. Plus, somehow a four leaf clover played into it, she asked if I was irish. The answer is no, but that is the name of my piercer who I've been wanting to check in on for a few days now.

Look, I don't even know what to consider myself in the way of religion. I don't want to say you're wrong and I'm right and you'll burn in hell and blah blah blah. I just don't want to be treated like I'm falling for every day parlor tricks, right?

And maybe I should be more understanding of my mom's potential feeling of me running to the fire that burned me to play with it once more. But I feel I can't even explain that my side is not what she thinks if its anything. My side is confusion. My side is trying to glean out from the muck something that means something to me. And mostly, my side is trying to find a balance between what I believe, what I've experienced, and the circumstances for both.