"I think it's a sin not to want to live." - Warren Zevon
There was a time in my life (it may be known to you as "2005-2009") when I didn't like being alive. To put it further, I didn't want to live anymore. For the most part, I wasn't doing anything to hasten my death - save for a suicide attempt on January 8, 2006, which as it turned out did no damage whatsoever to my physical well-being.
My desire to die came from a compound of things, namely a psychiatric illness that still backhands me, an illness I can describe best as being like "an anthology of vulgar words on a vandalized memorial." What made it worse was the devil's exploitation of my illness; it's no sin to be ill by any means, and any doctrine that teaches so is un-Biblical and false. Knowing God has things for me to do, epic and awesome things, the devil decided to try and convince me to not do anything at all but wait for death, knowing he could no longer convince me to commit outright suicide.
But though it's no sin to be ill, mentally or physically, my sin lay in the things borne of my desire for death. In 2 Corinthians 5:1-8, the apostle Paul wrote of worldly trials and the subsequent desire to leave this earth and be with God in heaven, and the promise that, though we remain temporarily on this earth, we have a heavenly home with the Lord to which we will go someday.
But my desire to die defied God's holy Scripture in that, though my main want was to be with Him and away from pain, I did not delight in doing His will by living before dying; rather, I was merely existing.
Further, each aspect of my wish for death was rooted in selfishness and vanity. When I'd fantasize about my funeral I'd think of what song they would play; maybe some mid-tempo tune that described me so poignantly. I'd think of people getting up to speak, telling stories of me, and the funny things I did; I'd even relish the thought of Marlon Prichard telling of the time I tricked him into joining the Black Panthers, eliciting laughter for me, and of course, tears for me.
Philippians 3:7-14 tells us of leaving our worldly riches, our worldly wisdoms and self-perceived awesomenesses behind for the sake of following Christ. In my case, my riches in this world were very dark and bitter riches, a wealth of death and tears.
These days, I revel not in a desire to die, but I revel in the struggles on earth, the battles of good and evil, the overcoming of painful, lonely trials with faith and love. It oddly gives me strength, to hear someone tell me that my belief is an unevolved superstition, as the whole time my faith is cursed, I live and feel His strength and truth down to my bone marrow - I liken their mockery to the college kids in the 60s who spat on Vietnam War veterans; they were haughty in their own perceived righteousness, and held disdain for those who had been to war, all the while safe with their Dylan records and smoky dorms.
I'm living now, and painful as living can be, I'm alive; God delivered me, and led me away from the cushy, Nerf-soft comfort of hopelessness and death.
There was a time in my life (it may be known to you as "2005-2009") when I didn't like being alive. To put it further, I didn't want to live anymore. For the most part, I wasn't doing anything to hasten my death - save for a suicide attempt on January 8, 2006, which as it turned out did no damage whatsoever to my physical well-being.
My desire to die came from a compound of things, namely a psychiatric illness that still backhands me, an illness I can describe best as being like "an anthology of vulgar words on a vandalized memorial." What made it worse was the devil's exploitation of my illness; it's no sin to be ill by any means, and any doctrine that teaches so is un-Biblical and false. Knowing God has things for me to do, epic and awesome things, the devil decided to try and convince me to not do anything at all but wait for death, knowing he could no longer convince me to commit outright suicide.
But though it's no sin to be ill, mentally or physically, my sin lay in the things borne of my desire for death. In 2 Corinthians 5:1-8, the apostle Paul wrote of worldly trials and the subsequent desire to leave this earth and be with God in heaven, and the promise that, though we remain temporarily on this earth, we have a heavenly home with the Lord to which we will go someday.
But my desire to die defied God's holy Scripture in that, though my main want was to be with Him and away from pain, I did not delight in doing His will by living before dying; rather, I was merely existing.
Further, each aspect of my wish for death was rooted in selfishness and vanity. When I'd fantasize about my funeral I'd think of what song they would play; maybe some mid-tempo tune that described me so poignantly. I'd think of people getting up to speak, telling stories of me, and the funny things I did; I'd even relish the thought of Marlon Prichard telling of the time I tricked him into joining the Black Panthers, eliciting laughter for me, and of course, tears for me.
Philippians 3:7-14 tells us of leaving our worldly riches, our worldly wisdoms and self-perceived awesomenesses behind for the sake of following Christ. In my case, my riches in this world were very dark and bitter riches, a wealth of death and tears.
These days, I revel not in a desire to die, but I revel in the struggles on earth, the battles of good and evil, the overcoming of painful, lonely trials with faith and love. It oddly gives me strength, to hear someone tell me that my belief is an unevolved superstition, as the whole time my faith is cursed, I live and feel His strength and truth down to my bone marrow - I liken their mockery to the college kids in the 60s who spat on Vietnam War veterans; they were haughty in their own perceived righteousness, and held disdain for those who had been to war, all the while safe with their Dylan records and smoky dorms.
I'm living now, and painful as living can be, I'm alive; God delivered me, and led me away from the cushy, Nerf-soft comfort of hopelessness and death.
