Father Forgive Me

-!!Trigger Warning!!-

Written at some point in 2016, my continued use of substances and reckless rebellion lead to contemplation on ending my life. The piece bellow follows my attempt to rationalise these thoughts and feelings in an open letter to God.

I have tried to leave this piece as unedited as possible, with only corrections to spelling and grammar, in the hopes to preserve the earnest nature that this piece was written in.

In a lot of ways this piece was what renewed my passion of writing.

And if you are reading this and you are currently facing some of these thoughts and feelings, please believe that things do get better.

Father forgive me, but, last night I prayed for death.

It’s not the first time I’ve prayed to die, we both know, but I woke up again this

morning. It’s a reminder that I’m not the one writing my future, and that’s a

comforting thought, because I remembered that if life isn’t going the way I want it to, it’s because it’s going the way you intended for it to go. And you know that lately it hasn’t been going my way.

Father forgive me, because I know it’s a cheeky request, but this morning I prayed

for death too.

I saw no other way out and I knew I couldn’t do it myself, so I asked you to, because no one would argue with your timing. I wasn’t going to specify how I wanted to go, I was going to leave it up to you, and whichever way you decided to take me, peaceful or not, and if I had to suffer it would only be temporary to the suffering I’ve felt this whole time.

Father forgive me, because I know I’ve contradicted myself in what I’ve said, but I

saw no other option.

It’s risky to ask such a big favour of you, especially since I don’t even know your

name for certain. Although I keep going back and forth as to what I should address you as, and I feel like I’ve narrowed it down, and maybe the trials you’re putting me through will let me know who you are for sure. But if I were to of met you the night I prayed to die, what would I have called you then?

Father forgive me, because even though you’ve given me every tool I need to be a success, I focus on the few things you didn’t include as the reason to why I feel I am a failure.

I am fully functional in body and mind, I am still young, I have every necessity, I am

fed and I am clothed and I am funny and I am loved. But I feel the opposite of

everything I just said. You know I have tried to change my way of thinking, and it

usually works, but only for a little.

Father forgive me, but, I’ve forgotten what It’s like to feel genuinely happy without

some sort of drug.

Drugs don’t help my situation financially, but right now they help emotionally, and I’ve referenced you many time whilst high or drunk, and I’ve realised new thing about you whilst high or drunk; and people have taught me new things about you whilst we're all high and drunk. And if for any reason I was sad, or hopeless, or angry or alone, I’d have to get high or drunk, when I should have just sought you out directly.

So now I associate happiness and hopefulness with being high or drunk.

Father forgive me, because I know the flesh is weak, but mine seems to be the

weakest. Its: lustful, lazy, ungrateful, envious, it’s angry and unforgiving. And worst of all I know better, but I’ve become so accustomed to living this way.

Father forgive me, because I have become accustomed to a lack of discipline.

I can’t take instruction or direction or suggestion, but funny enough I wouldn’t deem myself hard headed. Forgive me, but any situation I have ever been in, I have gotten myself out of, with your help of course, so I can’t take advice from those who only help, out of convenience. Everyone has parents, and I do too, but they don’t parent, so I’m un-parented and trying to parent myself using friends that haven’t been parented either.

Forgive me also because I hate them with all that is in me. I’m half of two people that hate each other and are so focused on discrediting one another, how am I supposed to respect either of them?

Father forgive me, because I see in myself, the traits I hate in them the most, the

traits that I told myself I would never ever take on.

And I hate myself equally because of it.

Father forgive me, because although I know he doesn’t love me, it really feels like he does.

And lately I’ll take every second of love I can get, whether its long lasting or not.

Lately I don’t think I even deserve to have real love, because there are good girls

that have waited for real love and ideally, if there are still men capable of giving a

woman real love, they deserve first pick, right? I don’t think I’ve experienced real

love, but I know I want to, and if I died that night I prayed to, I would have died

without ever having felt real love. Sometimes I think I can’t love, ‘cause I heard

someone say that a father is a little girls first love. I don’t remember him being my first love and I still don’t love him now, what does that say about my ability to love?

Father forgive me, because somewhere along the way, I’ve forgotten that good

intentions don’t always lead to good decisions, and I can’t keep justifying my bad

decisions with my good intentions.

I do have good intentions, and you would have seen this on a few occasions, and

my intentions remind me that I have a good heart after all the wrong I’ve done, but we all know the last stop of the road that’s paved with good intentions. So how do I match my intentions to my decisions? or how do I make good decisions as a result of my good intentions?