Adam the Fish Offline

Thank you so much for helping me out with the new article in Sex and Relationships! I am the official editor for that section, but it helps me out SO much when others offer their edits. I was dealing with finals last week, so you have no idea how helpful it was to come back with edits already there.
-Traci

Alright. As long as it got through...whatever it was I was trying to say.
- Collies R Us

I'm okay. Just wanted to stop by and say hello and see how you're doing. You got me reconsidering to apply for staff, so thank you
I think I should apply after finals week though

hey there Adam, how are you doing?

Part 2

First day of Drama, I was bewildered by a certain person. She was the other lawyer's secretary and also a freshman. She teased me as a hello, and I was unused to her and didn't exactly know how to reply. Let's call her Mary. Mary grew on me. I eventually began to figure her out, her teasing, her expressions. She was so unique to me, perhaps because she was the first person I really knew and loved besides my family. She was my first real friend.

This Drama Club is rigorous. They are real. Real sets, props, costumes. We spend about two months working on the Fall production, and that's after school most days (eventually everyday including Saturdays near the performance) for at least two to six hours depending on how close we are to show night. This Drama Club has been instrumental in teaching me how to love.

But then our three showing dates passed and Drama was over. It started back up again in Spring for an area Drama competition, but I didn't get involved. I regretted that.

I still remained friends with Mary, and had many other people that I now knew from Drama Club. Freshman year ended. That Summer was something else. I grew interested in writing and made it my project for the summer. It's funny, in my endless pursuit for information on writing I stumbled upon things about God. I hadn't forgotten Him, no, but He made sure I didn't forget Him, just in case.

That Summer everything changed. Suddenly nature is beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. I can't stop looking at it. Amazing. I thank and praise God for it. It's so beautiful. Everything. Animals, trees, the sky, the stars, and sometimes even people, though that is harder to do. I've been finding them more and more unique and interesting. If you really get to know someone, you can usually love them. We're all broken people I've realized.

That Summer I forgave myself for everything. It took hours and tears, but God pulled me out of that deep hole. When I arrived back at high-school for sophomore year, I was almost a new person. I'm still me, but better. My self-esteem has improved and my attitude and those dreary days when I used to beat myself up have vanished. It's an ongoing fight however; things like this still occasionally sneak up on me.

The second year of Drama Club was much better. I was crew, props crew, and I loved it. The Fall production ran much more smoothly compared to the year before. We were closer. We had aways been a family, but now we truly were. I love them. They are my Drama family. I thank God for them so much. And now we are currently working on our Spring competition.

All throughout this year, there have been little revelations here and there. This has been the best year of my life. God has led me on all sorts of terrifying and crazy adventures. It's great. I still have no idea what the future may hold, I don't even know what it is I want to be, but I'd love to do something for Him. What, I don't know, but I'm trying to do it here in high-school.

I can't fully describe how much I have changed, how much my image of God has changed. I LOVE Him. He saved me and loved me first. He cares. I'm not trying to regurgitate other peoples' words here; these are what I truly believe. I KNOW He loves me. But there is a difference between knowing and realizing/feeling it. I knew He loved me for a long time, but I had to actually realize it before it became true to my heart, not just me mind.

So yeah. My story so far. If this explains "why," I don't know. This just IS how it happened. Hope this helps.
- Collies R Us

Where do I start?

I had what I imagine to be a pretty happy childhood, from the outside looking in. Inside, I was a worry wart. I worried so much as a child. Looking back on it, I don't think it was natural. But I worried and worried until I had to distract myself to forget the worries. School was a distraction; I loved school. It had so may people, it was hard to think to yourself, but when I was alone it hit me. It was fear in a way. I can't explain it; I haven't felt that worry in so long.

I realized a trend in my worries as I remembered those years. They were all revolved around death. Worry about getting sick and dying. Worry about that lead-paint poisoning scare. Worry about the doctor. Worry. Worry. Worry.

It was all death. At this point, God was still a myth to me, a fairy tale. My wandering child mind theorized what it would be like after I died. One hypothesis was that I would just float along in an endless black hole, alone with my thoughts forever. Another was the idea that I wouldn't think; it would be like I had never existed. This was hard to wrap my mind around as a child, but it was one of my theories.

I think part of this fear was just because I had no idea what happened after. It was the unknown. The unknown is often scary. So since God did not exist to me, I didn't have any theories of Heaven or Hell. They simply did not exist to me.

We rarely went to church. Conversations about God in my house were also nonexistent, up until third grade. I came home one day and described in a foolishly giddy way to my mom how a boy had hit the teacher. She expressed her disapproval and then told me to do something that I'll never forget: "Go get your Bible." (Yes, I had one. It was a gift from my church given to me that same year.) I went to my room and snatched it from my closet. Its cover was bent from where I had thrown it up on the top rack; I never intended to read it.

I gave the Bible to Mom and she found the Ten Commandments. I recall the living room to be a dim, sickly color as she read off the list of non-no's. It was one of those gloomy-I-feel-horrible days, but the horrible part didn't come until later when she declared that I would go to Hell if I broke any of these. Then she described Hell to me, and that became my new nightmare. Mom added that "All I had to do" was apologize to the person I had wronged and it would be done with. "That's all," she said.

That's all? That's all? THAT's ALL?

That was a lot to take in, and by my standards, I was screwed. I went to my room feeling sick and when she came to tuck me in, I spilled my secrets and lies. But only some. Mom was horrified. I lost my parents' trust that day, but I felt immensely better afterwards.

Let me tell you. I've done some bad things. My lies have stained other people's records. My lies most likely caused an innocent woman to get fired from her job. My lies. Lies. Take my advice and don't ever lie. In hindsight, I realized these lies were all centered and caused by fear, just as the worries were. I didn't realize this at the time, but I do now. I was a coward.

That was third grade. Now God was my new worry. I said hasty prayers at night, hoping I wouldn't slip up and get my family slaughtered. Yes. I suppose I was a messed up little kid. It was fear. Fear can drive you mad. Those next few years followed the same pattern as before: worry and then distractions. Endless distractions. I could not be alone. I had to have someone with me.

I recall laying in bed one night (For some reason I want to say fourth grade) and I was debating the existence of God. I've heard of angels and miracles, but then, what of science? It wasn't a very in-depth debate; I had little knowledge of science and little knowledge of God. I don't know exactly how it happened, but it just clicked, like a switch being turned on: God is real.

I'm thinking maybe my timeline is wrong.... Shouldn't I believe in God before I pray to Him? I can't remember. But anyway, this revelation didn't change anything. I still pushed Him to the back of my mind because I was afraid.

Let's continue on up until the middle of seventh grade. We moved. This was my wake-up call. We moved to a new state, a new house, a new school. I wasn't exactly sad to leave; there was no one I knew well enough to be sad to leave in my home-city of twelve/thirteen years. No one truly knew me. I was the quiet kid. I had "friends," but they didn't really care. Neither did I.

Seventh grade was the year I started falling down a big hole. My self-esteem plummeted, whereas before, I didn't care at all how I looked/acted/dressed. I suppose I left careless childhood behind.

I was recruited into a strange group of people on my first day. They were an assortment of seventh and eighth graders that had black clothes and told many perverted jokes. They were so different from my past assortment of friends. I went from candyland to the real world so fast it gave me whiplash. I didn't understand these people or their jokes. I later switched to another group, but I still had ties to the first one.

I wasn't really anything. I was just the new girl. Then just that quiet girl. I didn't do sports anymore, on account of our move right before basketball try-outs and my lack of love for the sport or sports in general. It was only a filler made by my parents since I had quit ballet after seven years of it. I still regret that decision every so often.

In eighth grade Mom was still pushing for me to do sports. I disagreed, partially because I didn't want to and partially because I had a new worry: I believed that I had royally screwed my heart up that summer after seventh grade. God was hardly in my thoughts at all. I was numb to it. Anyway, since Mom wanted to get me back into sports she made me go to an FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes) meeting, hoping I would hear about announcements and try-outs and whatnot.

I liked FCA. It was my middle school's first year of it and it was supervised by the first teacher I had ever had in that new school. Let's just call him Coach. The students loved him. He was hilarious. He had these great metaphors and stories, which is odd for the subject of science. Coach welcomed me.

It was a simple meeting usually. A lesson, some scripture, some doughnuts. It was only about a classroom full of people. Why I loved it so much, I don't know. Slowly, I started to realize who God actually was. And I realized Mom had left out the most crucial part of my salvation: Jesus. She completely left Him out. The one person that could save me, she left out. I suppose she doesn't know...She only knows the rules. The rules couldn't save me; I was and am doomed to mess up on the rules, but that's why Jesus came. And Mom left Him out!

I still had issues, but I worried less over death. My self-esteem some days was awful. I had no true friends, but I didn't know it. If I had known I had no real friends and if I had not met Jesus, I'm certain something drastic would have happened. Maybe self-harm. Maybe depression. Maybe drugs. And maybe eventually, suicide.

High-school began. I was still awkward, unconfident, timid, and now a freshman. I went to the high-school's FCA ready to be disappointed, but it didn't happen. It was amazing. What made it amazing was that we sang. At first I was nervous. So many people singing around me...but the next couple meetings I let it go, and sang with the rest of them. I loved it more than the middle school's FCA.

I grew closer to God. It was a gradual thing. I had set out to reading the entire Bible sometime in middle school...I don't remember when I finished it, but it may have been in eight grade or freshman year. But I finished it.

My schedule for freshman year was arranged while I was in eighth grade. I recall, when I got my projected schedule, it had a couple blanks in it. I chose an elective, Drama 1, to fill it. If I'm correct, that was the first year it was offered as a class, and I took it. It was my fun class. Improv and games and the teacher's hilarious remarks. She talked about her Drama Club often. So often that when auditions for the Fall production went on, I debated on whether to go or not.

It was one of those decisions that completely alters your life. I was standing in the empty hallway after school, texting my mom, asking for advice. "Should I try-out? Should I do it?" "It's up to you," she said. I almost said "Forget it, I'm coming out to the car." But I didn't. Where that boost of reckless courage came from, only God knows, but I went to auditions.

It was mere improvisation.

The cast and crew lists were posted a couple days after. I made it. I was a lawyer's secretary with no lines and hardly any blocking, but I made it. It almost wasn't a shock to me; I felt like I was going to make it, despite my poor stage talents. It was weird.

I remember going home and dropping to my knees and praying thank-you's to God. The odds were against me but I still had a part. About forty people auditioned and the cast was a little more than a fourth of that number, and plus, I was a freshman, and we all know (let's call our drama director Snozz) that Snozz plays favorites. How did I ever get that part?

I like the sound of that.

Why. That's a toughie. I'm honestly not sure. I am not in a Christian family, and the only reason we used to go to church was for the Halloween festival (Ironic, right?) and the Easter egg hunts. It's kind of a long story how I became Christian. I'm not sure if that will explain why or not, but if you want to hear it, I'll tell you. "Why" isn't a one-worded answer in my case.

I'm not at all offended; by all means ask away. I've set out to answer the hard questions.
So if you want to read my story, shoot me a yes and I'll write it. It's long. So long.
- Collies R Us