Thread: why in hell would God allow this?! does he simply just have a sick sense of humour?

I'm 19, i struggled with depression caused by abuse and rape. I helped a friend slowly get over drug addictions, i finally got off anti depressants less than a year ago. i started looking after myself, i moved out of home one week ago with a work mate. now i find out that her bf who also lives here is not only doing drugs but growing them!
every time i try look after myself, try learn to stand on my own two feet i get thrown into a hole. in less than an hour i have gone from happy, to ready to grab the nearest knife and kill myself because i am tired.
i honestly can't be bothered trying to say everything i've been through. just that it's all started when i was 12 and been getting worse since. so why would a "loving" God do this to someone who has never hurt anyone??
^ this shit, is one of the many reasons i gave up on god and religion.
Alexis De tocqueville i can't afford to and. my choice is here or abusive family. i can't afford anything else.
Sleeping Puppy
Why? why am i being punished for something i haven't done? why should i be punished for other peoples sins when there a horrid people out there getting away scott free?
Doug
WHAT ACTIONS! i've read the bible! the only thing in there that really pertains to me is the fact that no one heard me scream when i was raped, oh and i didn't marry him! don't you tell me it's MY fault when i have done NOTHING to deserve this.

I know i need to go to a doctor, but i can't afford it anymore. i came off the meds with docs okay because i had finally started getting better. it's been a few months and i've been soing so damn well. i thought life had finally let me go, let me relax just a little. i made a huge descision to move out of home and get away from the last bit of abuse holding me back. and i end up with drugs around me. i don't want to be near the stuff, i have watched drugs destory a friend i saw the change when i started getting him off of them. i can't afford to move out, i have no clue how much is here and now i know i put the dots together to find out that the police are already suspicious. i have no clue how much dang
danger i'm in, and i can't get out.

I am going to answer you question the best way I know how: with a story of my own.

When I was twelve, I began experiencing extreme ear pains. After weeks of doctor, medicines, IVs, ER visits, etc., they finally admitted me into the hospital. After about three weeks of testing - not to mention my pain increasing -the doctors couldn't figure it out. Some of the doctors thought maybe it was something made up or some sort of mental illusion - not that I knew at the time, I didn't find this out until much later - so my parents decided to move me to another hospital that was larger and my family had contacts inside.

About a day later, we were in the new hospital. They did MRIs, different medications, everything. Some of the nurses jokingly called me "the mystery boy" because the doctors just couldn't figure it out. Almost everyone in the hospital knew me from one thing or another. I had spent a some holidays even in the hospital, but my spirits never tanked. Better said, I did not allow my spirits to waver. Finally, weeks later, they thought maybe they had figured it out, and gave me some medicines that seemed to help. Until I had an extreme relapse.

I didn't sleep. I almost never ate. I cried for the first time on Thanksgiving Day when I couldn't spend my day volunteering at a church in the city like I usually did. Heck, I almost spent what was the biggest holiday of the year for my family, Christmas, in the hospital. Until I was finally stabilized again. Not that this meant I didn't constantly have to see countless doctors, therapists, and others. Not to mention the pills. The damned pills. I took over twenty - actually, maybe it was twenty four? I forget - pills a day. At once. The side effects made me sleep all day, and when I was finally awake I was extremely off balance and dizzy.

Then there were my teachers. My principle was probably the least understanding person in the entire school, my Social Studies - or American History, if you prefer - being a close second. My principle had the mentality that if someone is not in the hospital, being out of school must mean they are trying to avoid school and being in school means that they are better than great. My Social Studies teacher was just a plain ass hole. Period.

While I'm experiencing pain beyond what they could comprehend, they were sitting in their swivel chairs saying that because "X" teacher has thirty homeroom students and countless others who come for classes, they can't give me a second glance. My Social Studies teacher "understood" my illness: she thought I was fine whenever I came to school - which usually was not the case - and then tried to exclude me from school events. Yeah. She really "understood".

Then came my back. About a month or so after I had left, my back became the center of my pain. It was worse than debilitating pain; it practically immobilized me for days on end. On my thirteenth birthday, the doctors finally came up with a real diagnosis of my pain. Just like my teachers, they claimed to "understand". They wanted me to sleep when the pain wouldn't allow me to achieve such a feat. They wanted me to go to school when I could barely move. This constant pain went on for about a year.

That was when I was admitted into a new hospital - a hospital for intensive physical therapy. I was told that the therapy would take four week; maybe three if it went extremely well. I told them I would do it in three.

I did it in two weeks.

Of course, then came back my ass hole teachers. I did well. But that wasn't enough for them. I did ninety or better on all my finals. We were told - by our principle, no less - that every student would receive and award and be recognized for their academic achievement, however we would not hear the true results - with the exception of the Salutatorian and the Valedictorian - until that night. I swear, if I hear the same names of the same eight or so people one more time, I will scream. Not that I didn't expect it. Since when have out teachers ever told us anything truthfully?

Now I'm going into high school, and those mother fuckers are gone for good. All I can say is good riddance, and hope that the teacher from that Catholic school burn in hell for not only what they put me through, but all of my classmates through.




The way I look at it, as it was taught to us one day in Religion class - which actually was the one class I expected to get recognized in. I received a higher score than all other students on the final - a perfect 100% of the questions correct. Do I get recognition? No. And I find it appalling that until we had already graduated, some students didn't even know I was ill in the first place! God... I worked so much harder than all the other kids, I had to, and don't even receive my long past due recognition... Anyway, back to my point - that God "allows", not "covets" nor "desires" nor "wants", but "allows" - evil for a greater good to rise therefrom.

The way I interpret that quote from St. Thomas Aquinas is this: God does not wish to see human suffering. He does not like watching human error. He does not enjoy pain and death. He is not entertained by our stumbles. But if there was no "good", there could be no interpretation of "evil" whatsoever, however, if there was no "evil" the reverse is also true; no "greater good" could arise from it. In other words, without evil, there never could be any good. Without good, there never could be evil.

God didn't tell them to grow or take drugs. I assume your atheist so I won't go into Bible quotes as I realise it annoys most atheists so instead you shouldd just stay strong and STOP blaming God for humanitys mistakes.

Don't harm yourself. You should go see a councillor. Or talk to a family\friend.

If you believe in God then you should know God loves you and wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. God is a loving God.

Why would you get off of a maintenance med like an anti-depressant. Did you have your doctor's advice on this?

Get back to the doctor, you little vixen you.

Lighten up a little dear, this may be the darkness before the dawn.

(Somebody growing a little pot or mushrooms or whatever isn't reason to go into a deep depression. You live your life, let others live theirs. You don't have to abuse drugs.)

Go see the doctor........

bicuzz yer too FAT!