when i was younger i figured there was no way heaven or hell could be real, it seemed far too limiting and convenient, just some strange human invention. i almost saw death (the void, unconsciousness, whatever) as a friend, something i've always thought about, always with me. my family all have fairly antiquated beliefs (most of them are the bog standard gay hating the apocalypse is coming kind of christians, also my dad has once told me that there's no point in living without god, a sentiment also echoed by my aunt) and because of this i found it a little easier to disregard them and whatever weird shit talk about.
but ever since 2017 i've been experiencing a very stifled, almost self-flagellating complex thanks to a person i've met. this person is also a christian but believes in a "different" god? one that doesn't condemn and hate people i guess. and believing in this god makes them very happy, gives them purpose. i've been told that i have to "accept" god though, same as my aunt said. i've felt an entire conflicting, irrational range of emotions regarding this. is this the same god as my family's god except they're leaving out the bad parts conveniently? but it doesn't feel right branding them as irrational or wrong, after all they're my age, they've suffered more than i ever will, they probably know what they're talking about. but what if they don't? what if their god sends me to hell for killing myself? it's like in all cases the fault is entirely my own for ignoring the salvation everyone in my life appears to point towards. maybe it's just hard to care about all the iffy parts when you're "saved". why does a god have to seem rational and fair to a human? a person who's molested a child could repent and go to heaven just as easily as i could go to hell despite doing nothing to anyone aside from just being kind of an awkward rude asshole. they used the "you can't lead a horse to water" phrase on me. it's like i got infected with a new strand of the virus. now i just feel the same way i did when i was 11. i'd tell my mom there's no point in living if we're all just going to die. what's the point when my entire life is just one long elevator ride down to hell?
a part of me is just angry, like a child. why do they get a fucking existential fulfillment banquet but also get to dodge every weird question and moment that makes them feel uncomfortable? how does every piece just fall in place? is that even possible? even their pain and suffering is cushioned by the convenient inner workings of their life and environment, their mind, even their vocabulary. they didn't even come from a particularly religious house. i've been immersed in this stuff my whole life, so i guess i must be a real fuck up. it's like i can't believe them when they make salvation seem so tangible and easy to obtain but also can't help but hate myself and feel like some lazy, spoiled, evil inhuman monster for not meeting their insane, arbitrary, self-serving standards. i'm a fucking mess.