All the spinal taps and medication worked, I gained most of my vision back. I have permanent peripheral damage, but I was thankful, because losing my sight would have been such a large blow since I am an artist. Lexy and I moved into a little apartment, which I loved because it had a fire place. I pretty much believed in nothing. Pagan meditations scared me and Christianity scared me more. I didnt believe in God. At all. No higher power. Nothing. I felt empty but safe. I still had weird angst from the church and began my angry at the church phase. I went to church once with my sister. It was a large white building with no frills. I thought it was refreshing. The entire service the pastor talked about how much money they needed because they needed to renovate and put in a mahogany platform and red curtains and lights. It was disapointing.
Several months later, my friend from work invited me to church with her. It was an all black southern baptist church. I had never seen anything quite like this. It was loud. People were crazy. But I loved the people. I loved the energy. I liked to go because it was entertaining and the people all seemed really happy and fulfulled. It was a brief and fleeting love affair. For a while I prayed everywhere. Even in the bathroom. I testafied. It was exhilerating. But I couldnt reconcile all my questions I had. I never felt quite right or at peace or at home. So I slowly slipped back into aetheism. That was my last foray with Christianity. Or so I thought.
I went back to my safe nothingness. Back behind my wall. I was filled with anger, although I wasnt sure at what. I didnt believe in God. But I was angry and empty still.
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