sent in by Ian
I was not born into a Christian home. Quite the contrary. I was born into an abusive household with heroin addicts for parents. My biological father was a Japanese immigrant who was never there, and when he was there, he beat the shit out of me. My biological mother was also guilty of this. It was common place for my mother to burn me with cigarette butts, or to beat me within an inch of my life. My sister was born when I was but 3 years old. Since my biological mother was too busy shooting up dope to take care of us, we usually went without food. Most of the time we wouldn't have electricity. One year later, at the age of 4, after more abuse and hospital visits, the State stepped in and took me and my sister out of the house.
We were bounced from foster home to foster home for a while, and were finally placed in a home with parents that weren't going to beat the shit out of us. I was about 6 at this time. The family my sister and I were staying with were Pentecostals. The kind of "Christians" that jump around as if they're having seizures and speak in tongues. This was my first introduction to "Christianity." And I never totally believed at first.
Well, as a few more years went by, I started to believe, but I was too embarrassed to admit it. It just wasn't "cool" to be "Christian." The brainwashing had begun...
I was around 12 years old, and I'd finally gotten an adoptive placement that I thought would work out. I'd had one previously to that, but the family decided they wanted my sister, and not me. So, this new adoptive placement seemed awesome. The person who wanted to adopt me was a single male "Christian." I thought it would be cool to live there mainly because he had tons of video games, which I figured out later why he had them...
My first visit went well with him, and I had a few more visits, and finally, I moved in. Things went well at first. I started school there, played video games, and pretty much had fun. One day, I went to a friend's house after school and got high for the first time. I liked it. I went home, high as a kite, to find my adoptive "father" waiting for me. He knew I was high, got his gun out, and did something so unspeakable, so heinous, I'll never get over it. Keep in mind that this was a "Christian."
He beat me to the ground, stripped me, and raped me at gunpoint. After he was done, he pulled the trigger. The gun was not loaded. "You ever tell anyone," he said, "I'll make sure this gun is loaded."
I told anyway, and was taken out of that hellhole quicker than shit. I was taken back to my former foster parents who apologized profusely. I didn't talk to anyone for a long time, and had nighmares every night for a year. I was afraid that he was going to come and kill me since I snitched on him. I felt like it was my fault. Everyone told me that there was no way he could come and get me, and I didn't believe them. A year after that tragedy, they told me that he had killed himself the day I was removed from the house. I was so pissed, I didn't talk to anyone for about 3 months.
I had started to have doubts about "Christianity" and its validity. I was afraid to give up on god, I prayed constantly, and I blamed him continually for what had happened.
At the age of 14, I was adopted by a family who I'm still with today (I only talk to my father's side of the family). My ex-adoptive mother (I've disowned her for various reasons) was not a "Christian," nor was my father. I didn't have to go to church, and I felt free. For a while.
It was around this time that I started liking members of the same sex. Of course, I've always had feelings for them as a child, but I didn't understand it, and couldn't label it. I remember as a child, the pastors would preach fire and brimstone to those who are gay or bisexual. They'd always say that to lie with another man as you would a woman is an abomination in the eyes of god, etc., etc. I kept praying to god, asking why he'd send me to hell over something I can't control and something I didn't choose. I never chose to be bisexual. If I had a choice, I'd be 100% straight, just to make my life a little easier.
Well, after enough of that nonsense, I'd pretty much given up on god, and started doing drugs heavily. Drugs filled the void that god could not fill. I started shooting up oxycontin, drinking heavily, and eating pills left and right. I was around 16 at this time.
My drug addiction got so bad, I was sent to a State mental institution for 8 months. I was released on my 18th birthday. I lived in a halfway house, lost god, and got my shit together. For a while.
Then I started back on drugs. I ended up worse than when I had first started. I eventually was sent to a treatment center to get clean and detox. I found god through NA, lost him, and moved back to my hometown.
Until this point, I was still not sure whether there was indeed a god or not, and I wanted so badly to believe. I started to do a "mental spring cleaning," if you will. I analyzed every belief about god I had, and discarded it if it didn't make sense logically. I went through this for about 5 months. When I was finished, the word "god" had no validity in my new understanding of the world. It was no longer in my vocabulary.
Now that I'm free of the chains of "Christianity" that had bound me for so long, I find it easier to stay clean. I've never felt peace while in those chains. Jesus does not bring peace. He brings chaos, hatred, humiliation, and degredation.
Christianity is the world's longest running lie in existence, and I am grateful to be free of it.
Became a Christian: 6 years old
Ceased being a Christian: 16
Labels before: Half-assed Xian
Labels now: Devout Atheist/Secular Humanist
Why I joined: I was forced into it.
Why I left: Because it's total and absolute bullshit.
Email Address: ian at iansite dot com