Something Real.

I've really needed to write today, but nothing has been right in my face, getting my attention as something worth writing about. But, I'm still going to go for it.

I've grown up in the church. As kids, they teach us early to always be the same outside of the church as we are in. Now, we hear more about that, but branching out. Make sure you aren't wearing any masks. Don't be fake. Be something real and honest and true.

I never thought I had a mask on. I'm a pretty good Christian at church, school, and home. And I'm generally the same person everywhere I am.

But what if having a mask on meant more than just that?

Eventually, the more layered of a mask you get, the harder it is to recognize who you are, and maybe even that you are hanging on to one of those masks.

It started October '06. Walls were put up between me and God, but I began to tear them down thinking everything would be fine. And it was for awhile. But soon, I screwed up. First layer of a new mask.

It continued until New Years. I went to church and left feeling like I had really changed. And I did. For a week. Quickly I fell again, harder this time. Second layer.

Layer upon layer, I grew accustomed to my life as it was. People talked about being happy with life and enjoying it. I didn't understand that anymore. I had become so used to who and what I was, that I couldn't imagine anything else.

End of May was the first time I hurt myself. It was only a simple bruise from a rubber band, but it was a start. By this time my mask had grown hard, modeling after my heart. My eyes began to close as I wasn't aware of what was going on around me.

It continued. The bruising. Soon, this past October, I cut. And I loved it. It scared me, this wasn't right, it never did feel right, but it was all I had. By this time, I had given on a God who created everything I see. My mask had completely remodeled my life, into something no one could recognize. I didn't let anyone in, until a month before. Even then, at that time, it didn't help. I just wanted to be left alone.

But then I told my parents. And my friend learned more about what was going on. The mask is cracking down the middle. I try to stop, retreat back to what I know, but nothing works. Nothing can save this life. A little bit of light is shining through. And I'm pleading for everything to stop and pretend I'm not here.

I normally try to say I would never take anything back, it makes us who we are. And some of this, I can see know, has helped me. But the first time I ever did anything to cause harm- I would take that moment back in a heartbeat. But this is what I have in my hands now, it's what I'm left with.

It never made sense- any of it.

"It's not right when you find comfort in harming God's temple."

kadi.