Being raised Catholic didn't agree with me. Actually, I kind of resent the church for screwing me up so badly. The whole idea of praising one person (Jesus) for all of my blessing weirds me out. Especially if you think about it. Jesus is technically a zombie. I had my first holy communion at the age of nine where I got to eat Jesus and drink his blood for the first time. When I was 18, I agreed to let my parents enroll me in a confimation class with about 100 or so other young Catholics where we all did team building exercises and promised to commit our lives to god. The main reason why I agreed to start training in the Cathlathons (not a real thing) was because I was curious and wanted to know what being a cannibal entails. Turns out Jesus is just a stale wafer and his blood was just red wine. I also attended mass weekly because it made my mom and dad think that I was finding some guidance from the catholic church. What they don't know is that I really just do it to make them happy. It wasn't until recently that my parents started forcing me to go to church-- because if I didn't, they'd start (verbally) fighting with me. If you ask me, it all seems very anti-christian to me. Forcing their beliefs on me is pointless and ineffective. So, I end up sitting there for an hour thinking about other things I could be doing and hating catholicism because I've wasted a perfectly nice Sunday that I will never get back. My philosophy was always "treat others the way you wanted to be treated". Plain and simple. I'm a lover not a fighter. So last night when I went to church with my mom, I silently cursed Christianity's traditions and sat through yet another service. I was even more offended when my mother dearest said she would "pray for me". It will always bug me whenever someone says to it me-- particularly when a stranger says it to me. You don't even know me! My mom walked up to those funning little thingys (I don't know what they're called) where you can kneel on a slippery cushion and pray to a statue of the Virgin Mary. I sat there and watch her light a candle and then she proceeded to bow her head and close her eyes. I've never seen her look so calm before. The woman who would always hysterically nag me about my lifestyle and call me nine times a day to remind me that I needed to watch what I ate and hurry up and finish college already was actually relaxed. She does love me afterall. That's why she's praying for me, I guess. I'm not sure how this is supposed to help me but I'm not going to let my lack of faith ruin things for my mother. My mom and dad chose to follow the path of Catholicism and even though it's not the right one for me, at least it's something that helps my parents and their purpose-driven life. Regardless of religion, prayer does help. It's a outlet for my mom and it enables her to relieve her burdens onto something else that is beyond her control. I'm not sure how much longer I can closet my religion... or lack thereof. But seeing someone else's day brighten up because they get to spend a Sunday with their daugther is worth it. Yeah that means you mom and dad... (sighhhh) churchies. |