My senior year was a searching period for me. I was faced with the reality that I was about to enter my adult life. It seemed like I had to grow up way to fast. I have always been mature for my age, but the idea of supporting myself was a bit frightening. Nine months was all the time I had before graduating and I had mixed emotions about graduation. I knew I was about to make choices that would affect me for the rest of my life. Was I prepared for this? In nine months I had to be physically, mentally, and most of all spiritually ready. I was scared.
I remember that feeling I had walking through the hall my senior year. Life was still normal! Those first six weeks passed so quickly. English teachers were still preaching "crape' diem" to non-responsive students. Math teachers were still pleading with students to put more time and effort into their studies. College seemed to far away for me to care. My father was constantly inquiring about my progress pertaining to scholarships and colleges. I chose to put those decisions off for another time. I had everything under control. I was the girl who was spearheading the top theatre department in the state. I was the girl on the morning announcements. I was the girl who was tormented ins
Many buildings have a fake front that is called a facade. The buildings look wonderful from the outside but it is not real. That was me. I had a facade. I did not know who I was. I knew what people that I was and what they thought I should be. I had this immense pressure to be how they perceived me. They controlled who I was, not me.
Social acceptance was always important for me, so I decided to change what I was doing. My life was completely devoted to theatre and I had no real friends. I started the adventure of "clubbing", despite the fact that I was only seventeen at the time. I did not go out every weekend, afraid for it to become too obvious. It was on the nights that I decided to stay home that I would lie in my bed, curled up in a ball, snuggling a pillow, crying myself to sleep. During this time I would begin to ask questions. Why would God allow His child to me subjected to this torment? If God is suppose to be all loving why is all of this happening to me? Was there really a God? I came to the conclusion that the "Christian God" was not solving my problems and I need to look elsewhere to fill this void in my life.
Buddhist, Jewish, Atheist, Occult and Wicca were the different belief systems that I investigated. None of these quite gave me the pleasure and visual proof that I was seeking. Buddhist gave me the best relaxation time I never had and Jewish was to close to Christianity. Wicca was were I found a "home".
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