Whatever peace and happiness I felt after that prayer that came directly from my shattered, bleeding heart, (as well as the peace I still feel after that prayer, that almost makes me fond of the things that have hurt me the most) was most definitely supernatural. Again, there's nothing I could ever say or write to put into words what that was like, to suddenly be at peace with my life, the universe, and God. It's like no other peace I've ever felt before. And it only came after I spent nearly a half an hour pissed off at God, and letting Him have it!

Perhaps, that's what an all-loving, all-merciful, all-just, and all-empathic God does. He's not the angry, jaded, fire-and-brimstone God so many at church say He is. He's a God that can handle everyone's anger and frustration with grace, Who cries with us when we are hurting, Who shows us our deepest fears and sins gently and without scorn, Who celebrates with all of His angels when His most fucked-up, prodigal creatures turn back to Him, Who chases down the lost and alone no matter how far they stray, Who heals the sick and weak regardless of if they believe in Him or not. 

I think I will forever wrestle with survivor's guilt, resentment towards my conditions, and severe anxiety. But, at least God is always there when I need Him most, and also when I don't think I need Him. Even if it turns out there hasn't been a God after all, it is still very healthy to simply voice aloud my victories and defeats to the wind. But, after twenty years of living with several deadly conditions, enduring shitty family and school situations, and overall just not having the best time, I find it quite absurd for me to deny that there is a God out there, Who loves and cares for us. Who heals the sick and relieves suffering.

However, He doesn't always heal the sick and wounded like most of us would want Him to. For years, I begged God for a cure. To make me normal. To take away the things that made me sick and hurting. In fact, I still do ask those things from Him. But, God's never answered my prayers in the ways I've wanted Him to.

Instead, He's let me suffer, experience what it's like to die both slowly and quickly, endure bullying and abuse from others, so on and so fourth. But, not out of any sort of malice. I believe He allows us to suffer so that we learn how to grow and be strong, how to have empathy for others and serve them accordingly, and most of all, know what it means and feels like to truly love. After all, you can't know love unless you've experienced hate, and vise versa. Which is why, when I really think and reflect on my troubles, I become grateful for the things I've suffered from, and I would never press a giant "reset" button to relive my life as a normal, healthy, happy girl to a normal, healthy, happy family. 

Of course, this stuff is pretty much impossible to explain, especially to those who simply don't get it. There are simply no words to describe what I've experienced. I think people just have to live through similar shit I have to understand what I'm struggling to express. And, even then, no two people come to the same conclusions.