My Spiritual Journey
...church. I shared my views with my brothers and other kids at church. The “campaign” was mostly covert—I wouldn’t dream of refusing to go to church, (yet,) no matter how much I hated it. Instead, I used sarcastic comments to undermine the church, and engaged in mini rebellions by refusing to participate in religious acts like praying or reading the Bible. As I began to question their beliefs, they reacted by force-feeding more religion down my throat. I went on the offensive immediately rebelling in every way I could against my parent’s vice grip over my spirit, soul, and body. I hated everything they held sacred, if they said up, I said down. I began hanging out with the “bad kids,” and pot became my new best friend. At the peak of my rebellion, I was spending as little time as possible at home. It was a place to eat and sleep and smoke pot. My parent’s attempts to control me failed, and they were left with one final option. We moved to Podunk Idaho in a desperate attempt to control me. Rather than curbing my behavior, I spun quickly out of control, furious with my parents for “ruining my life.” I hated everything about Idaho, and showed it in the form of crime. I used pot to escape the reality of my situation and to rebel against my parents. Before I knew what hit me, I found myself in JCC-Lewiston, a lock-down facility with a huge emphasis on taking accountability for your crimes and seeking out new, positive values and beliefs. In other words, fake it till you make it, or you’ll never leave. I went through many spiritual ups and downs in the facility. I swore my life to Satan on day, and the next day, I worshipped God. I was angry with myself for my spiritual instability, and confused about life in general. My depression hit an all-time low, and suicidal ideations became an everyday occurrence. Eventually, I “worked my program” enough to come to a less secure facility. I am currently at the Northwest...