Since I was so much healthier, and my future was so much brighter, my faith in God was becoming a lot more positive and childlike. Was I still interested in pursuing the intellectual side of Christianity? Of course I was. But, was I pursing that side of the faith because I wanted solid, irrefutable proof of God's existence to thwart my atheism? No. Because of how much healthier and so much more optimistic than I once was, I was now interested in apologetics and the science behind Christianity because I was curious. I wanted to really get to know Who God was, and develop a very personal relationship with Him. 

However, I still held (and hold) a lot of anger and bitterness towards God. Cystic Fibrosis, as well as a lot of other things, stole my childhood from me. Sure, I had good times, but my life still revolved around CF, and I still had other problems to worry about, such as the issues caused by a broken family that never got along, school bullies (including and probably especially bullying from teachers), my total lack of self-esteem, my severe anxiety, depression, and so much else. Why did God allow me to endure so much suffering, especially at such a young age? What was the point? Was there a point? If God was truly trying to teach me something valuable through my strife, what was He trying to get me to understand? And, why did He feel the need to teach me such valuable lessons by allowing things to happen to me that no one, especially a little girl, should ever have to endure? 

I know I've chewed on the "problem" of evil and suffering a million times, and have come to the same old conclusion each time. Yet, it continues to come up, and I still find myself pondering on the question, "Why God?"

I may be physically healthy and emotionally happy now, but I am left with grieving and coming to terms with my past, which will be no easy task. I mean, let's face it: I got completely screwed over in life, and have gone through some horrible shit that nobody should ever have to go through. As a result, I was left physically and mentally maimed, and I still have to face challenges on a daily basis most people never have to face. Most people don't seem to get that. Trikafta has helped me tremendously, but it failed to solve most of my issues. I may have my physical health and energy, but emotionally, I am struggling.

I've been dealing with intense, vivid nightmares that aren't actually fictitious. They're slightly exaggerated traumatic memories being replayed in my sleep, and I've been waking up sitting straight up in bed, drenched in sweat, panting, shivering, and in tears. Therapy has helped, to an extent. However, it will be a long time before anything gets resolved to the point I will stop having such intense dreams. 

Also, emotionally, I'm very sensitive, and everyday, I endure a rollercoaster of emotions. One hour, I'm perfectly happy and content. The next, I'm bawling my eyes out upon being hit with a huge wave of intense sadness. And, then the hour after that, I'm back to being perfectly fine. This is all normal, because I am grieving quite a bit. It's not easy to endure such a dramatic change as I have, even if that change is seriously amazing. I was comfortable living in the shadow of death. Now that I no longer live in its shade, I'm feeling very vulnerable and unsteady in life. I never knew a life outside of the imminent threat of death, at least until now, and I'm now treading through completely uncharted territory, and almost completely without the empathy and support from other people. 

Nearly everyone I know has dismissed the negative impacts Trikafta has had on me. Don't get me wrong, the benefits of the medication far outweigh the issues. But, I'm still struggling to deal with the effects this medication has had on me, and the things it has revealed to me. I really wasn't nearly as healthy as I thought I was, prior to taking the medication. Now, I'm left with trying to come to terms with that terrifying realization, and trying to figure out how I managed to make it nearly as far as I really did in life. Also, I feel completely unprepared for my future, especially now. I don't even know how my own body really works anymore, and it will take me quite some time to get used to it (I'm four weeks into taking Trikafta, and I still discover new things everyday, and still have a lot of old habits that I need to break, such as taking more enzymes than I need). 

The more I think about it, the more it becomes clear that my ability to get through each and every day, despite my health prior to Trikafta, was a miracle. Everyday was a miracle. Everyone who ever saw me, whether or not they realized it, was witnessing a real miracle, because I was so sick yet acted so damn well. I guess in that sense, ignorance truly was bliss, because I was unaware of how bad things were, and got on with life like everyone else thinking that I was just as healthy and able as everyone else, even though I wasn't. I may of had exceptionally good stats for someone with CF, and I may have been able to stand up on my own two feet. But, it unfortunately turns out, that sometimes numbers and looks can be deceiving. 

Faith-wise, I'm comfortable considering myself a Christian, especially since I really do believe in God, and fully accept that Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, and then triumphantly resurrected a few days later. However, feelings of resentment about my past, as well as all of my questions, keep me from fully surrendering myself to God. Perhaps by admitting that I believe in the Christian God is submitting myself to Him, but I'm not entirely sure. I'm still very resistant and rebellious. I grew up being told that surrendering myself to God meant that I needed to stop resisting and being so rebellious. In order to surrender myself to God, I have to quit cussing so much, stop looking at things so pessimistically, and stop questioning God's infinite knowledge and wisdom. But, perhaps that description is very inaccurate? I'm not sure.

All I know is that I'm comfortable calling myself a Christian, but I'm not sure if I'm saved, and I still have a lot of questions and a lot of pent-up anger that probably need to be dealt with. If I have to stop swearing, start looking at things like the glass is half full rather than half empty, and stop asking God "why?", well then I'll probably never be a Christian. But, if it turns out that description of God I've been raised with is entirely inaccurate (which I strongly suspect it is), then perhaps there is hope that I'll be a Christian. Perhaps, I'm already a Christian, and have been one for a long time. I just don't know.