I keep thinking of my parents.
They have endured things from the both of us but specially my sister.
I didn't wanna leave because I knew I'd feel guilty. But at the same time it was becoming too much.
The part that I knew but still disappoints me, is that I wasn't gonna change automatically, once I moved. I still do some things, or not do others... no one tells me what to do and I kind of need that push... I don't push myself enough.
I don't have my parents to push me and I got to admit, I don't have the same motivation as when I was with them. Now I have to find my own and that's a different type of pressure and responsibility...
To think that my own survival is my responsibility, hits me. I get worried in the spiritual sense more than anything. I have to get over my fears... but after I got a horrible response from a coworker I immediately closed up again. It's like... their faces always change when I bring up Jehovah. And nothing is the same anymore. They either avoid me, or they're careful with their words, or look at me differently. I'm immediately judged and I hate it.
What I hate the most is hating it. I used to do it all the time when I was a teenager. And now it's like... ever since 2021 it's taken me so much effort and courage to even bring Jehovah up. Even if it's just a little bit. Maybe it was the effect the pandemic left, and being disfellowshipped, and everything. I feel that I've barely done things for him and at the same time I feel like the smallest things I've done take so much effort. Maybe my mind doesn't work the same as it used to. Maybe I really am more limited in my current circumstances. Maybe that's hard to accept because of how easy it used to be. Now it's not easy for me.
