Make me into a plant.

I want to fall away so badly. I want to fall away if falling away means letting go of something that is slowly eating me away. But I can’t, because I am so fucking scared of entering unfamiliar territory. I’m not prepared to completely let go of something that was the foundation of my childhood, my life, and my identity. People think I’m petty because I can’t let go of a childish way of thinking. Here’s the problem: I didn’t just have a Christian family and I didn’t just call myself Christian. I based everything that I was and everything that I believed in off of Christianity. I don’t know how to let go of that without falling apart and dissolving into fear. All I want is for a Christian, or God, or myself, to tell me that I’m going to be okay. That I can refuse to follow God without being threatened with eternal damnation. Christians say shit like, “Yeah, you can leave God,” but it’s sarcastic, and the subtext is that if I do choose to leave God I will go to Hell and face eternal torture. It’s like when teachers say, “Yeah, you can go to the bathroom if you want,” but they say it in a tone that implies that just because you CAN go to the bathroom doesn’t mean you won’t get a referral. I know I CAN fall away, but I don’t want to go to Hell, don’t you see? And I can’t follow a God who sends people there. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. It’s fucking ridiculous. I can’t go anywhere. All I want is to stop being afraid. But everything is scary. Christianity is scary, non-Christianity is scary, not having any answers is scary. I just want someone to tell me it’s going to be okay. But nobody can tell me that. God can’t tell me that, even, because if I’m not damned, others are damned. I want nonexistence. Not death, not an afterlife — I want the erasure of my existence as a human being. I want to be a plant. Make me a fucking plant. Let me know I won’t go to hell just for trying to find myself.


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