This morning I was realizing that I was having a storm of old bitterness well up because of re-telling my story in these blogs. It's unpleasant and unexpected. I thought it was... cured? If not cured, then certainly dealt with and healed and done. Maybe that never happens entirely.
People have always considered me an angry person. I caught crap all the time as a kid from my own family about 'having a chip on my shoulder.' I didn't know what that meant; all I understood was that my feelings were wrong and I was supposed to shut up and smile. Kids at school - even at a new school where no one knew me - always joked that they shouldn't piss me off or I'd beat them up. I didn't understand why strangers would always say that about me. I never beat up anyone in my life; never even in a fight (except for scuffles with my little brother).
Then I saw asanerman's comment on my last blog entry, and I think he's right. I'm not going to be able to tell a straight line story. I should follow my story and let it all out, even the parts not directly connected to religion. Which is most of it actually, from my childhood years, anyway. I can tell it all here.
And maybe in the end, it'll all come together and make sense regardless. Let's hope so.