When I was a little kid, I knew nothing of relationships. All I knew was, my mother and father were split, and that I was now the man of the house, so to speak -- even at less than five years old. My mother allowed me the duty of punishing my brother for his behavior. As you can well guess, this gave me a rather slanted view of life, as I found myself in the position to reprove and punish my own siblings and equals in all things. My brother put up with it for many years. I will say, however, that he did stand up to me once, and gave me quite the bloody nose. He was scared, still.. for I was running after him within a few seconds.. yet he still managed to land that one blow -- after which I did not hit him again.

Yet still, during the inbetween time of these, I went to school, and learned that I wanted to excell in all ways possible. Due to my seemingly gifted brain, I was placed early on in special groups for reading, english, and mathematics. However, no matter how much good I did in school, I never got what I really wanted -- someone to truly love me. If it were not for my own Mother and her gracious love towards me, I might have completely flipped out and lost all hope in the world. You see, I was regarded as a knowitall, because I tended to always know the answer to things. I don't know why.. back then, I just figured I was better at school than others. As I look back, I seem to see that they were most likely mad at me and jealous that I *was* so astute and able to even correct the teachers at times.

I do recall one time, however, when I did not feel so great. It was in my second grade class, near the end of the schoolyear. I was keeping a secret, just like the rest of the class, that my teacher was going to get a special gift at the end of the term, because she was retiring. However, my intense desire to see her happy and my curiosity got the better of me, and I dared ask if she had gotten any sort of present lately. When I asked, the whole class got on me. I can still remember the sound of their voices saying "John!!" with such consternation.. it rings in my ears and stays with me even today. Perhaps because of that, I have learned to keep secrets and surprises very well.

Yet, not only did this echo in my ears for years, but all the taunts and teasings of the children around me. I was a weakling, and was afraid to fight anyone, so I simply let people's teasing fly. It hurt so badly, but I had no idea what else to do. Then, one day, my mother told me her secret.. and that was to ignore it. So, from that day forth, I attempted to do so. It was that day when my shell began to build.

Over a number of years, the teasing continued.. it lessened, truthfully, yet it still reared its ugly head in my life from time to time. Yet my shell continued to grow in strength. I became less and less emotional. And my drive to excell in school deteriorated. I did well in math, and science, yet in other subjects, I was usually satisfied with a meager grade which was below my true abilities. It was not until high school that I started to excell again, when I set my eyes on the most glorious prize a kid can achieve -- a 4.0 for the whole of high school.

Now, during this time, much continued to happen as well, my parents still fought... I saw my dad on either the weekends or ever other weekend.. and then alternate holidays. But truthfully, I wasn't really brought up as I was raised from childhood to adolescence. Then, as I started to enter it, my mother had an attack of her manic depression -- it was in the summer of my 6th grade year, before I entered 7th. I found myself bribed by my father to go with him, as we spent most of the summer with him, and my mom spent a great deal of time in the mental ward at the hospital in town. When the summer was nearly over, we were returned to our mother, and things seemed o.k. again. She was on a medicine called Lithium Bicarbonate, but I had no idea what that was -- I learned from the doctors that it was to control her moods -- I noticed it made her less vibrant at least.

Well, not only did it happen that time, but again.. in my 8th grade year.. near the middle.. yet slightly after.. and she was again hospitalized. This time, it was for the entire time I spent at my high school. And I must say, this was not a pleasant time.. for you see.. My dad was not one who accepted me as I was. He was rather physical in his punishments, and usually did so out of anger. I can remember one time, when I was nearly or was a senior in high school, that he beat me up for crying.

You see, he was a rather unemotional person, and, one thing I learned later in life, was that he hated the resemblance of me to my mother. I guess it reminded him of her and the fact that his marriage had failed. I can't quite know what he truly feels, yet I know he is probably still troubled over it.

I must say, that living with him for those 4+years was a big eternity for me. It was so hard. Luckily for me, there was Coral. Coral was my dad's girlfriend. Back then, my convictions against adultery of this nature were very shallow, so I didn't mention it ever. She was the best. She and I got along so well. Much better than my father and she did it seemed. It was like we were quite alike on the inside. We had a lot of good times sharing puns and such: this was a great pleasure to me, for I loved them. But things didn't last.

To continue...

High school was a very rough time for me. It started out well, but cascaded into a big chasm of depression. Firstly, upon entering into my second year, I took Spanish. Now, you may be wondering why this was such a big deal. Well, I will tell you that, when you are good at something.. so good that people get extremely jealous about it, you can be very destined for a harsh fall the second you make a single mistake. And that's just what happened to me. I made my first mistake in like late October or early November, and the entire class (it seemed) applauded.. because finally, John Chalice, had made a mistake.

The pressure and teasing from my years as a young child had not disappeared, it was all in my imagination. Rather, they had gotten worse, and people still seemed to hate my abilities.

That was the breaker. I couldn't handle that. From then on, I didn't care what grades I got so much.. just that I did ok. Up until that point, I had 3 4.0's. I managed to finish off the current one, to make it four, yet that was the end of it. For this was not the only great cataclism in my life that year.

Not only did I have the incident in Spanish, but I also found myself truly overtaken in amorous infatuation with this one girl who moved here from Seattle. Yet, with my self image, and my fears and shyness, I did not dare tell her how I felt. Instead, I dreamed away times spent with her. And not all these were so innocent.

You see, not only did I learn about how cruel a class can be this year, but i also learned about my hardest habit to break... one that I have only recently been able to truly repent from it (Thanks to God now I have). And that was masturbation.

I did this for years.. because it felt so good, and I felt so terrible. I fantasized all the time. Not so much that anyone would have sex with me, all though it deteriorated into that.. but that someone would dance for me.. and pleasure me.. and want to make me feel that good. As it is I am still struggling to quit.. but God is helping me graciously in this. And this was not the end of the trials that year. Not only did I see that girl in my english class, and simply not turn in the last 6 assignments.. because I spent all my time watching her in the reflection of my watch.. but, I had the most devistating thing yet to happen. I remember this one so vividly. I was in Chamber Orchestra. We were traveling in a van down to play in a competition, as well as stop at certain schools to play at. Well, along the way, one girl in the orchestra placed her feet on the sides of my head and gave it a little hug. (she was in the seat behind me) And for the first time in my life, I felt included. That I was part of a group. It was a high I cannot explain. Perhaps you know what that's like.

Well, anyway.. later that night, after we had gone for dinner, we stopped at this arcade/bumper car place. I remember taking a ride on them, and missing the second one which the rest of the orchestra was getting on. So, I played a video game for 5 minutes. When I finished.. I looked around.. and tried to find them. But.. they were all gone. I was 300 or so miles from home.. (Northern Oregon) and they had forgotten me. I felt like God had stabbed me.. or reality anyway.. and said, "You don't deserve to be in a group! See!!?? You're not part of it!!!" Eventually the van came back.. but it wasn't until they got to the hotel, about 30 minutes away.. that they realized I wasn't with them. It hurt so much. I just couldn't hack it. I remember when I got back to the hotel, that I put on "Stay Hungry" by Twisted Sister. If you don't know it.. here's the chorus..

    >Stay Hungry.. feel the fire
    >Stay Hungry.. don't explode..
    >Stay Hungry.. with desire..
    >Stay Hungry.. You're alone!!! 

I was so hurt.. and I buried it in my anger. (*sigh*) Well, as far as big things happening, nothing much happened in my junior year. However, when senior year came around, I really got it.

You see, all my life, I had worked for my father dilligently when he asked. I kept going until the job was done or until it was time to quit. However, that year, somehow, my younger brother, Mark, convinced him that I never did anything. So Dad got really angry with me. He made my life very difficult. And it got continually worse. Especially when he was threatening daily to throw me out of the house.. all because I hadn't applied for scholarships for college.

He had no idea of how difficult that idea was for me. Laying myself on the line??? NUTS!!!!! I couldn't do that.. I couldn't let another person evaluate me.. they'd just cut me to ribbons!!!!!! Well, eventually the counselor we had been seeing got him to see that he needed to stop the threats, and just do the best he could in that regard.. but it was a very hard time.

This was why I chose WSU. It was 375 *****BEAUTIFUL***** miles from home. I didn't want to deal with Dad. I hated him. He's the only person in my life I've ever hated. I couldn't stand how he treated me - nor how he treated Coral. He was such a chauvinist.. a big MCP cone.. I used to call him behind his back.

Well, I got into WSU with honors, because my final GPA was about 3.65 or so.. not too bad.. but not so hot.. and things went basically normal I guess you could say for the first term. However, something happened one day which started up a friendship which led towards the most important relationship of my life.

I can remember one day, I was in my room (at WSU). What I was doing I can't remember.. maybe listening to music.. who knows. Anyway, these two people stopped by and had maple bars. They were for my roommate.. who had attended Bible study with them. Well, turns out we talked a while.. and I learned that they played raquetball. And we ended up playing a few times before the term was over.

After I got back from Christmas vacation, I was eager to play again.. even though I had gotten whipped in the first and third games I played. Well, I didn't get a hold of the guy (Marc) for a week.. but near the end of a week, he called me, and wondered if I wanted to go sledding with his youth group.. up in Idaho. I jumped at the chance. I can almost still hear the joy in my voice when Marc said sledding. I loved to sled. I couldn't resist.

Well, I had a ball that day. I remember people praying together like when we started, and when we were goign to eat. But beyond that, it was a big day of sledding for me!!!!!

Well, on the way home.. it was like I felt compelled to talk about my life.. I just started to.. explained kinda what had happened with my parents and the pain I had gone through in life. Well, near the end of the trip back to school, I found myself being invited to their church. I had gone as a little kid.. until I was in like 6th grade.. and mom went into the hospital.. to a Presbyterian church.. but I never really got into it. I didn't understand the songs or anything.. I just sang and listened. The messages were so.. well.. they didn't tend to speak much of Christ.. they just spoke of general stuff.. and I didn't seem to get much out of them even when I stayed upstairs to listen.. rather than go to Sunday School.

I had also attended the Catholic church.. which I thought was a bit better.. and I liked the music.. it was folk-type at times.. they had a guitar and a little group of people who sang and led worship. It was really nice. I remember how much I loved the song, "Sing hallelujah".. and loved it when they played it -- especially when they sang the last verse.. (yi.. yi yi yi.. yi... yi yi yi yi yi..) etc.. it went really fast.. and I thought it was neat.

But it wasn't the same as the church I was invited to. I don't know when I thought things would be different. I remember I was first in Catechism class.. because a certain two people brought me who went to it.. and then upstairs for the service. It was so differnet. No pews for one. And when worship started.. that's when I got the *real* jarring. People were lifting hands and truly praising God.. not just singing hymns. It was Awesome!! (to say the least).. I loved it from the start. I *was* afraid to start putting my own hands up.. but I got into it. And within two weeks or so.. after one service, I was brought up to the Altar. That was the day when Jesus broke through.

As I mentioned earlier, I had a shell which started building from the day my mom told me to ignore teasing. It made me so emotionless that smiles on my face were about as welcome as a bee-sting. But that day, when I was led through my first confession ever.. Jesus broke through my shell.. and showed me the outside. I cried so hard.. and when I was done.. the best testimony I could ever get was sitting on my face. I was smiling.. it was not forced.. not pushed.. it just sat there. I was so lifted!!! I couldn't believe it!! Well, I was immediately enrolled in a class they called "Going for the Gold".. which taught the foundation stones of Christianity. It was probably the best thing to do, except for one thing. My motivation for doing well in classes had fallen quite a bit.

So, I started up in the class. It was video-based. We watched a lecture, and then responded to it on sheets. I was also given guides that day.. to help me through the class. (*sigh*) Pardon me, but remembering them, and what was said later really still sits with me. You see.. due to my involvment in another thing which I'll explain in a moment.. as well as my lack of motivation.. I didn't quite keep up in the class. Also, I was afraid to share.. very shy.. and very insecure. The Gregorys (my guides) invited me over to talk about the lectures.. but I didn't do so well.. then I got behind..

You see.. at the same time, I found out about BITNET. A friend whom I had made in my first CompSci class was on it, and I got interested too. So, he set me up, and I started chatting. In no time at all, I was meeting people. (Now, this is not like Internet.. it's nowehre near as fast.. but it's ok.. much like IRC).. well, eventually, I met Renee. Renee was probably the greatest non-supernatural influence in my life besides my mother. You see. She was a cute little gymnast in Bellevue, who I started talking with. And we just kept on talking. :) And because I was so insecure.. I was certain that when she found out the type of person I was, that she'd leave. But I told her all about me. All the gory details.. all the junk in my head.. from my werewolf-sex fantasies.. to masturbation.. to my getting into women's clothing.. nothing scared her off!!! She loved me as I was!!! it was the most beautiful present I could ever ask for. I can still remember journaling one time back then.. when I felt God speak to me and tell me that He had brought her unto me.. and to treasure her.. and other things like that.

Well, the love I seemed to feel from the people at church was not the same. Except for one guy, but I never got too close to him. His name was Mike.. I miss the guy really.. I wonder where he is now.

Anyway, I told you I fell back in my classes. I also spent more and more time with Renee.. even told the Gregorys about it/her. They seemed to object a bit.. because she wasn't of the same type of church as we.. but I couldn't understand it. So, I kept things going.

And on March 15, 1989, I went to see her.

It was my spring break. We had set up this day to be for us to meet each other. i.e. this was my first date. Ever. I was 19. I hadn't even kissed a girl yet.

Well, I drove down.. all the time so elated about things. I got there rather early, so I hung out in the parking lot of a mini-mall and either read the bible or listened to music. Probably more likely the latter. Well, I went to her house.. and she saw me.. she came down.. and I gave her the blue carnation I had picked out for her up in Bellingham. We hugged, then went up to her room and chatted a bit. Turned out, however, that she still had to work that night. Luckily it was only an hour or so -- she taught gymnastics.

Oh.. I forgot to mention one thing. Another little thing I tried with her.. was the start of something very beautiful. it was live poetry. I started doing it on the net with her.. and then with others.. to show them how I truly felt.

Anyway, I waited for her to finish.. then we went to Godfather's Pizza. I loved GodFather's. It was the best back then. :) We ate a good pizza, and then went back to her place.. with a couple of her friends who had shown up. She changed clothes, and then we went dancing. Now, I had thought this was going to be just what I wanted. She had told me before that she loved dancing. However, when we got to Oz.. the club we were going to.. I found out just what we had not said.

You see, she liked to bounce in one place a little.. whereas I lived to move about and truly get into it. Dancing was the one thing that had truly sustained me in those awful years.. one good thing at least. And I almost lived for it. I was hurt, and so was she.. when I danced around and she didn't want to join. Eventually, we talked.. and she got me dancing with my hands in my pockets.. which kept me cool.. but kinda flattened me as well.

Well, after dancing.. we went to her place to watch Dirty Dancing -- I had for some reason brought it along in the car (on video). We watched it for a few minutes.. and then Renee asked if I'd like a blanket. I didn't know quite what to say.. so I said yes.

And that's when things got a bit warm. I won't go into detail, but I will say that we got a bit passionate. Our heads were outside.. and her friends were there.. but things still got a bit fiery.

Well, after the movie.. I joked a little with her about being awake..because one of her friends said "wake up you two".. and I knew full well she wasn't sleepy. (*I smiled then.. but now.. I don't*) Well, we dropped off one of her friends, then she parked the car in the lot and I moved up to the front seat. We chatted a little.. I apologized for what I had done.. but she said she'd wanted it. She started hinting for me to kiss her.. "So you've never kissed a girl before.." and things like that.. but it took an all out plea.. "I'm dying for you to kiss me" before I broke through the tension and did. She said "That was an awesome Kiss".. I can still remember that. (*deep sigh*) We kissed a bit more.. and then we drove back to her place.. and we tried to watch some videos of her doing her routines.. but our attentions were focussed more on each other than on those.

Anyway.. I will never forget how the evening ended. It was nearly 5 in the morning.. and I had to get going.. we were kissing and cuddling.. and she started to get a bit passionate again.. leading my hands places I wasn't comfortable going. That's when I said I had to go. But then.. after getting up and getting my coat on.. she jumped on me (not sexually) I was standing up.. and the little girl jumped and held on tight.. saying.. "Take me with you!!!" I'll never forget how that felt. To truly feel that loved. However, when I got home finally.. things were not so hot.

I guess my conscience was taking over, because I felt my shell back up (something that happened a lot when it first came down.. but gradually lessened through time).. I felt so numb.. I couldn't feel a thing except passion.. and it hurt me. I wrote Renee a letter about the night.. and apologized and said maybe we shouldn't see each other again for a while or something..

Eventually.. we both agreed that was for the best..

Her name was Stacey. She went to the University of Maine at Orono. I can't quite remember how much we clicked.. or how fast.. but we did. We spent a lot of nights talking.. late nights. And a lot of it wasn't really talk.. it was more like semi-passionate exchanges on the net.

Anyway.. school wasn't so hot.. I was nearly failing Linear Algebra.. I had never done this poorly at math.. the whole subject was so foreign to me that I just didn't get it.. not to mention it was taught so strangely and aesthetically that I didn't follow it very well.

Anyway.. I managed to pull it up a bit with the second midterm.. but I was still a bit low. As we neared the end of the term, I was getting highly involved with Stacey.. not too lustful or passionate.. quite innocent still.. but we kept spending time together. I can remember one night when we were talking.. I wrote her a live poem.. it was like the fifth I had written her.. and then she wrote one back.. and my friend.. it was the most beautiful thing I could imagine. Now.. I'm not saying that all the words rhymed or that it was in iambic pentameter.. but I will say that there was a line which caught me so much that I was as hooked as a guy can get. It said.. "I would even die for you, though I have not seen your face."

I was so taken with that.. I was so sure this was the one for me. Well, with regards to LFF (the church I was attending-Living Faith Fellowship) I was not attending the classes.. I guess that the smile wasn't enough for me.. or something.. but I just didn't want to be in a class i guess.. I didn't know the seriousness of that class.. I guess if it had been more personal.. I might've done better.. who knows. But it came time that the people in the class were considered for water baptism. I had a meeting set up with Pastor Kevin. And I went.

Well, that was probably one of the most painful times I had to deal with to date. You see, he said that I had used the Gregorys.. how I had no idea.. I didn't even know what it meant to use someone really.. much less was I the type of person to do it. He also said that BITNET.. the place where I had made such good friends.. was an Idol. And that really hit me. I couldn't deal with what this guy was saying.. I was crying my brains out. I mean.. I *had* been to the Gregorys' home a bit.. and they'd invited me over for dinner.. but I never went without them asking.. or offering.. I guess I just didn't understand why they felt the way they did. I had assumed that they were giving out of the charitableness of their hearts.. and not to get something in return. (*sigh*) As I look back now.. I can see that I didn't do what they wanted.. and that was grow in Christ. And they had told me once, that.. this church would bend over backwards for me.. as long as I was growing in Christ. Well, that.. along with how they *did* treat me.. seemed like conditional love.. but after reading a bit of the Bible.. more especially 1 Corinthians 5, I can see where they were coming from. I was a sinner still.. and not coming out of it.. so they had the right to not associate with me.. but did they have the right to demand my growth? I dunno (*sigh*) At times I still wonder just how much we are to require growth and by what standards, as Christians, from our fellow Christian friends.

Anyway.. I remember that night.. and fasting.. until the next day.. at dinner.. until a friend on the net convinced me not to. I had read Job.. and it really got to me.. (*sigh*) I can feel the convictions flying even now..

I seem to remember that I felt God was mad with me.. but it was hard to really believe when Leslie, the person who convinced me to eat, wasn't. Well, as we neared the end of the term.. Stacey and I set up a time to talk.. the last day I was there. The Wednesday of Finals week, however, I was so stressed.. I couldn't deal with it.. I had a final that night in Linear Alg.. and I *needed* to ace it to get my grade up.. well, after a few tries.. I got a hold of Stacey.. and we talked a few minutes.. and that made such a difference. I was charged.. I studied.. and it seems that I studied the right things, because I got a B+ out of the class.

Well, Thursday came.. and I was looking forward to Friday and saying goodbye to Stacey for the summer. I knew I wouldn't be able to call her and talk because she said her parents didn't like her giving out the number. I saw Stacey on.. and we exchanged a few words.. but she was busy talking to someone else.. so I didn't bother her much.

However, I wish I would've.. because the next day.. when we were scheduled to talk.. the links were down. So we didn't get a chance to talk. Well, my dad had no idea why I stayed out so late that night, he tried sleeping in his car as I remember.. but he didn't get much.. it was too noisy for him around the dorm. We drove home. And things seemed ok.

Well, after a week or so.. I decided to write Stacey.. so I did. But I got no answer. I wrote another.. still.. no answer. I wrote two more.. and still.. no answer. It was really hurting me. I was crying myself to sleep at night.. each night.. every night.. reading the poem with that infamous line in it.

Well, after a while I got in touch with someone on the net via help from someone I knew. She told me to send a certified letter.. to see who was getting Stacey's mail. I did that.. and I waited.

Now I also have to mention 2 things.

1) Leslie was still in touch with me. She was calling me often.. she was kinda rich, and so could afford it.

2) I had gotten a job at Bellingham Dairy Queen.. first real job. It was full time, so it got me a bit of money for school... but it was also very stressful.

Now.. I can still recall the day when the green slip came back.. with Stacey's signature on it. (*sigh*) it was one big lie. All of it. She had lied about the relationship.. or used me.. or something.. and I cried so hard.. and wrote a poem of extreme depth and sorrow to get the pain out. I was so distraught.. but there was a big problem. I had nobody I could turn to to talk about this. Nobody, that is, except Leslie.

Now.. Leslie was an older girl who went to Scripps College in Claremont, California. And there was one big difference between us. She was a sex hound.. I wasn't. Even though I masturbated, I still wanted to remain a virgin until I got married. She spoke all the time about sex and stuff.. And eventually.. although I really didn't want to.. we became boyfriend and girlfriend. I just couldn't turn her away.. she was the only one who understood what I was going through.. who was there and who cared.. As I look back now.. I realize I could've turned to God.. but I didn't realize that then.

She came up to visit me in August.. probably one of the two worst weekends I've had.. because although she was loving in some ways.. she was very controlling.. and very coercing.. she got me doign a lot of things I never woulda done. Like showering with her.. laying nude with her.. and even letting her go down on me.. and play with me. (*sigh*) I loved her.. but I was being torn apart. Dad got really mad at me because of what happened in his house.. me showering with her and stuff.. he didn't want that.. even though he did it with Coral.

Anyway.. she left.. and things went back to where they were.. except she called a bit more.. I went back to school.. she called a lot.. and kept my roommate up. I didn't think of it much.. I just talked with her like she wanted. Or tried to.

Sometimes I'd fall asleep on the phone because it was so late.. I was doing poorly in my grades.. not caring.. and having a 19 credit load.. which is enough to blow away most anyone. Eventually.. she invited me down for my birthday.. and.. after a lot of coersion on the phone.. I kinda said I wouldn't be able to resist having sex with her. Which happened. Needless to say, I had my shell come up that weekend.. but I'll never forget the other Birthday Present she gave me.. and that was a KJV Bible.. in leather.. Thompson Chain Reference, Concordance.. you name it.. even had my name on the front. Whenever I look back on this.. I see it as so strange.. that someone like that could give me something so necessary and against her beliefs as she lived them.

During my time down there, I was usually quite closed off.. we had sex like 7-10 times.. maybe less.. dunno really.. but i didn't really like it.. because she was frigid.. she just didn't get turned on.. and that's what I wanted.. was to turn *her* on.. I guess it was a blessing in disguise that she *was* that way.. because otherwise, I mighta stuck with having sex.

Well, after I got home.. I did my best to break up with her.. it wasn't easy.. we had a few sparks.. but it finally bowed out.. I thank my God with all I am for that day. It was the day I was set free from the only one ever to control me like that. Also at the time, I met kimmy. I spell her name with a small "k" in deference to her old desires to do just that. It seemed that her self image was so low that she refused to do otherwise. We became good friends, and had I realized that she had a crush on me, I might not have gotten into the troubles with Leslie that I did.. I might have dumped her for kimmy.

Well, school continued.. and I met another person on the net.. and clicked with her immediately. We were both rather intelligent.. and both caring.. and we ended up getting together as well as more than just friends. Her name was Lisa - she lived in Seattle, and went to U.W. I remember that we had quite a bit of passionate net-exchanges.. these seemed to grow in intensity as we continued to spend time together. Granted we never actually went all the way, as it were, but we got even a bit animalistic in nature.

Well.. we met.. eventually.. but it wasn't the meeting I had hoped for. You see, one thing which really became apparent when she showed was the fact that she was more of a people person than I was, and so I found myself in groups of people I didn't even know, trying to get along and not really doing a good job, for I was still very afraid of other people's opinions of me. After a time, she realized that I wasn't ready for a relationship.. I was too much on edge.. ready to explode from all the tension I was under. She mentioned how I giggled.. and how it scared her friend who was at WSU as well. She came to the conclusion that I needed a mommie more than anything else.. and with my mommie kinda not all there.. she kinda agreed to be it.

However, the promise didn't last. She got involved with a guy at her university.. and didn't spend much time talking with me anymore. The term wore on.. and within a month I'd guess.. I was introduced by someone on the net to someone else.

Her name was Julie. She was part deaf. But she was a very caring, kind, sensitive individual. I found out later why I fell for her so much -- because she was a lot like my mother.

Now there was one big problem here. You see, she also had her eyes set on another guy. But she kept on telling me she just wanted to be friends with him. However, when he visited her.. she ended up sleeping with him, and even getting pregnant. It turned out that she lost the baby. But I didn't find that out for quite some time.. that she had even been with the guy.

During this time, I had a number of things happen.

1) I started having full-charged netsex with Julie. I didn't equate it with the real thing.. but it was just a big lie in my brain.

2) I had a visit from someone who was my dearest friend at the time. Her name was Christine. She was very caring and sensitive. We got along well.. she lifted me up as a prolific writer for one.. and she just really liked me. Well, she and her friend Shaiya(Nicole) drove all the way from Utah to meet me. And that was one of the best times I had in my life. I'm a bit sorry to say that, because Christine was sick. I really should've focussed on her.. and helping her how I could.. but there wasn't too much I could do. She didn't have the money for a doctor in town.. and neither did I.. so I just kinda hung out with Shaiya.

Now. One thing about Shaiya. She was very sensual. Catlike.. even carried herself like one. We spent most of the 36 hours that they were there just hugging one another. We did have a tickle fight or two.. but things stayed innocent. I hate thinking about this.. but I guess I was a bit unfaithful to Julie. I just needed to make my mind up about what i wanted. Shaiya, luckily, helped me with that. She said I had Julie.. and I had to decide to stay with her.. or something like that.. (in a letter she wrote later to me on the net). I remember also dancing with her.. in a bit of a body rubbing fashion.. it was definitely sexual. She, like me.. lived to dance. Well, I loved to.. she lived to. I will never forget what she taught me though. Because some people came up to us when we were dancing on this field in front of a dorm.. (it's called Orton Beach).. and they started dancing. I froze up though. I was afraid of what they thought of me.. so I didn't keep dancing like I was.. I only started again after they left. Shaiya taught me then and there that it didn't matter what people thought. I can remember a time later.. when I was at a public dance.. and four guys made fun of my dancing.. I just laughed it off. It was great!

But anyway.. it was the next morning.. and they had to go back. I wanted one last thing.. and that was to dance with Shaiya to "Electric Youth" by Debbie Gibson. Back then.. to me.. that was the most awesome song I had ever heard. The energy level was so great.. I just loved it. Well, we danced.. and then we went back to my room. We got the last of her stuff.. and brought it down to Christine in the car.

Well, I couldn't let this day just end.. so.. when they were taking off.. about to leave.. I kissed Shaiya. It was the most electric thing I had ever felt -- and one reason I started to set my sights on her. But that didn't last. I was back with Julie purty quick... and Shaiya was on her merry way.. turns out she screwed up Christine's relationship with someone else on the net by sleeping with him when he came to visit Christine. I guess I got lucky.

Well, I continued along my ways.. Dad had gotten on me about my 2.5.. which was my gpa for the fall term.. he was very mad.. I mean.. someone like me getting that.. it just didn't make sense.. but I didn't have the motivation to do much better.

This semester.. I did a bit better. I got like a 3.2 or so.

I also met Trish.

Trish was from New Jersey. She and I met on a bulletin board system (bbs) and started talking and getting along. It turned out that since she was so close to Julie (who lived in Pennsylvania) that I could visit them both in one shot. And that summer, that's what I did.

Well, I won't go into too much detail, other than to tell you that I found myself searching for one thing..and one thing only. Passion. I wanted to rock with it. And Julie was just too laid back. So I kinda let her go.. and got really close to Trish. Even though Julie was so loving and tender, I just *had* to have the passion instead.. not a very good trade as I look back on it, even though I seemed to be falling in love with Julie only because she was so much like my mother.

We also had netsex quite a bit. Even getting animalistic. One day though.. really hurt me. When Trish caught sight of this one guy.. who was quite a bit like me.. and she fell for him as well.. not realizing that she was falling for him because he reminded her of me. This eventually split us up. This and the fact that she had been interested in other guys as well over the summer.

Well, that was over. And I was alone again.. until September 30, 1990. that's when I met Stacy. (note, no e).

I had seen her on the bbs a number of times.. but hadn't really talked to her. Well, one day, she was in chat (kinda like a one channel irc on the bbs) and we ended up just kinda snuggling.. and it took off from there. Eventually.. it led to a lot of netsex, and phonesex. But at the time, she was all I wanted. It was so powerful, that I quit going to classes.. and I spent time just mudding and being with her. Over the summer of that year, I had also been with other girls on the net.. a few rather regularly. I was becoming a regular netslut. (*sigh*) Little did I know that I was also on my way to finding an answer that I so much wanted. Well, anyway.. I eventually started planning to go down to Arizona and live with Stacy.. and work there.. abandoning College at least for the time being.. because all I wanted.. all I was searching for.. in my mind.. she was. There was only one problem. She didn't believe in God.

I had so many problems letting go of this girl over the next few years. She kept in touch, because she still cared. But I got in deep trouble for getting too close. Turns out, (and this is true, no lie here).. she was even possessed (or more properly, was possessed at times, as I found out by trying to question the spirit in her and getting an answer that Stacy didn't remember saying). Well, I didn't know this.. I *did* know that when she got mad, things started to move or fly around the room.. doors slammed.. etc.. but it didnt' scare me.. I wanted to help her out of her troubles. Turns out as well, she had been involved in a Satanic cult. And they still had some big influences on her. She was afraid that I'd die just like another guy who had been interested in her.

Well, Stacy wasn't as truthful as she coulda been. She had rung up a $2000 phone bill from calling Australia all the time.. and had lied to her parents that she was actually going to school this term.. when she didn't.. but was just working. Her parents had to come and bail her out.. and she was taken away to New York.. where they lived.

Then as Stacy was having her problems.. I got to the point where I felt I couldn't handle the distance that I was gonna have to with Stacy.. so we broke things off. Well, she did. Again, another rather painful day.. when I wrote quite a poem to let it all out... or at least some of it.

Following this a few months later, after coming home from WSU and dropping out.. because I knew I had no more motivation to continue, I started working full time for Dairy Queen. Eventually, it became a salaried position.. where I was working 49 hours a week.

Things got very stressed at home. Dad was on my case an awful lot. But no where near as much as he got on my case in early March of that year (91).

I don't remember what day it was.. just that it was a weekday. I was on the phone awhile.. and didn't come up for dinner when Dad and Coral were eating it. Well, I did come up around 8:30 and have something.. leftovers.. who knows. But that night was probably the worst I would have for quite some time.

While I was eating my dinner, dad stormed out of the bedroom, and turned down the tv to an almost inaudible level.. then stormed back in. I had no idea why he was so mad -- nor was I one to find out. I continued eating for a few more minutes.. then he stormed out again.. and attacked me verbally like never before. I had no idea what was up. But he just kept at me. The big problem was, I was stuck in my chair. I couldn't move.. without getting close to his shaking fist.. which was really close to my face. I hadn't realized that the two of them were both in the bedroom. I thought that one was sleeping and one was in the study.. so I didn't think anything of it. However, it turns out that they wanted to "make love". And having me there with my "Christian" background got to them I guess.. because they really let me have it for being upstairs and being selfish and self minded and stuff. Coral even joined in. And that's what really hurt -- because she had never been mad at me before.. except with my borrowing her clothes.. and she kept that under tight wraps.

Well, anyway.. I felt so turned on.. that I took off in my car.. and headed across town.. to talk to my friend Anne. She was the only one I knew I could talk to. Well, lucky me, when I got to the phone, I forgot the code for my US West Card.. so I couldn't get through to her. She wasn't there at the time.. so I got very lucky. I then went to mom's house.. and realized that the chain would be on the door.. so I couldn't get in without her help. So I called and asked her to take the chain off so I could sleep there. However, first I had to call Anne. Which I did.. I can still remember the words out of my mouth.. "I don't wanna live anymore".. because it had just hurt so much..

I talked with her for like 10 minutes before my mom got mad at me for being on the phone.. that's when I took off in my car again and headed for a rest area south of town. I got there, and contemplated using my pocketknife as the shortest trip to the next world. God kept me from it, I'm certain. But that night, I was so hurt.. I just couldn't stand living with Dad anymore.. so I looked for my own apartment. I found one and moved in March 20th. I had a bit of money saved up from the first two months at DQ after I got back.. so I could pay for a deposit.. and everything else on the 20th. That's when my life truly began.

I loved being on my own. And earning what I was.. at about $5.50/hr and 49 hrs a week.. with only $250/mo. rent, I was in fat city for me :) I eventually started walking to this Christian bookstore which was at a mall 2.5 miles north of the apartment. I got along well with this guy who worked there named Greg. He was really nice.. and very pleasant to be around. The store was great! The atmosphere there was quiet and peaceful.. serene.. as though the Holy Spirit, Himself, resided there. Though at the time, all I knew was, it felt nice and havenish from the rest of the world :)

Anyway.. I went to my first Christian concert that April. Michael W. Smith was gonna be in Seattle.. so I got two tickets. One for me, one for Heather.. a great friend I had made back at WSU.

We used to spend hours at night talking in the tv room on my floor. She was very caring.. and a fellow believer. We got along well. I still wonder if she ever wanted to be more than friends.. yet I was not about to because she smoked.. and cigarette smoke was one thing I did not enjoy.

Well, the concert really got to me. It touched my heart.. and there were times during it that I had tears streaming down my cheeks. It was nice to be with a friend again.

I'm not sure when I started attending Calvary Temple (an Assembly of God church just like a half mile away from my apartment).. but it was around that time. And it started growing on me. I spent every Saturday walking to the mall with the bookstore in it.. and walking back later.. and went to church every Sunday. God really started working in my life then. He brought a very nice gentleman into my life, named Lionel. He and I spent a lot of time talking about this and that. He really helped me see things God's way.

And as I look back, I see that this man was more instrumental in my understanding of God's love than virtually anyone in my life. At DQ.. I was getting more and more responsibility... and getting better and better at my job.. continually faster :)

Then I set my sights on Anne. Anne was a devout Christian.. but Catholic as well.. And we had a number of differences.. but one night.. we just seemed to click as more than friends. I remember talking to Lionel about her.. the good times.. the bad.. The problem was.. she was in love with a guy who had dumped her.. still.. and wouldn't give up on him.. so she distanced herself from me to the extreme..

I felt I was really growing in the Lord at these times.. I got tickets free for a Halloween party up in Canada.. it was a Christian rock type party.. and it was quite good.. and then I went to see David Meece. Now that man can sing. I don't know if you've heard him.. but his intensity level is seemingly out of this world. His songs really got to me.. and I really started to feel the Holy Spirit taking charge of my life.

At work, I began to talk with God an awful lot. I was feeling really hurt all the time, because of how I was treated by the owner and the manager.. the owner being atheist, and the manager being.. well.. let's just say that his philosophy was.. "You can't turn a DQ into a ministry".. and I differed with him on that opinion.. but he was the boss.. I just tried to do what I could..

But because they were so callous.. I was spending a lot of mornings crying.. hurt.. and talking with God.. and I did the same when I was up on the counter.. running for the window (getting the food for the drive through and stuff).. I didn't have to talk much.. so I was always talking with Him.. thanking Him.. loving how much He was showing me..

However, it was also during this time that I started to get deeper into sexual things.. now that I was on my own.. I could rent porn movies.. and I did.. once I had my own TV and VCR.. I did it very often. I always vowed to quit.. but never did. I always said.. it would be the last time.. but it never was. (*sigh*) I also had problems with one other little tidbit of an addition.

You see, as I mentioned back with Renee.. she had accepted me regardless of who I was. I told her all about me.. but this doesn't mean I started to change in these areas. Once I was in my own apartment, I ran back into something which had started a large number of years earlier.

Due to the longing I had in my heart to be held, and due to an obsession I had developed at an early age with shape-shifting of any sort, I started to develop quite the fantasy life. But it all stemmed back to this one incident when I was in like 5th grade.

My mother was gone for a few hours, and for some reason (which I know now to be comprised of a desire to be like my mother and a desire to be held, as well as sin's lure) I decided to put on a pair of my mother's pantyhose. I didn't really think anything of it, but the touch they gave me started an addiction which lasted many a year. I got into her clothing more and more. I would use felt pens and color my nails, and makeup and have fun.. hoping that she wouldn't find out. Maybe I wanted to be like her, but I do know that I did want a girl to like me. And back then, the easiest way to do that was to dress up like one and flirt with myself in the mirror. As I look at it now, it seems so disgusting.. but you can never tell what you'll do when you are really hurting and in want of love.

Anyway.. this dressing-up got so addictive that I eventually was taken to a Psych just to get it dealt with. Unfortunately for my dad's pocketbook, I was not about to let him into my life. He was an outsider, and this wasn't his business.. so, instead, I let him become an $80/hr chess partner. He'd win sometimes, I'd win others, etc. But we never really got into anything about the clothing. Oh he'd ask and everything, but I didn't care.. and I wasn't about to let him in.. so with each question he asked me, I'd answer "I don't know" and leave it at that.

The clothing continued to get bad throughout high school, cuz now my father was had a rollerskating girlfriend, and her clothes, of course, were tight, shimmery, and the exact feel I was looking for. I even ended up showering in them at times. (After a good deal of therapy and personal searching, I realized that much of the reason I did this was to feel as I had felt in the womb.. tightly held.. loved, surrounded with love). Yet how could I know back then that God and Jesus were the only ones who could provide the love I was searching for.

I continued in the clothing off and on through high school, and then, when on my own in my own apartment, I got my own pieces to use. No longer did I have to use that which belonged to others -- I just bought my own and experimented, still searching for the love I wanted.

Yet this was not the only problem I battled. As I mentioned above, I had quite an interest in shape shifting, and so, the ideas of watching girls shapeshift became a regular occurrence in my fantasy life. Yet I never wanted to really be with them sexually as much as watch them. During this time, I became a raving sexfiend in my heart, though outside I was trying to get close to God -- and as you can already tell, a fire was burning beneath my feet, and ready to start scalding me.

Eventually, Anne and I split, but this was not the only split to be made. You see, I had become involved in Calvary Temple's orchestra in 1992. I wanted to be part of it and help with the Easter presentation, "Who will call Him King of kings?" (for those of you who are interested and can telnet, this is now visible on a mud called Thundermuck. Please feel free to drop by and look for me (crysaliq) and I'll be glad to show it to you. Its address is mcs133.rh.psu.edu 6201). Well, I had noticed something right up front with the music pastor -- he was quite highly filled with religiosity.

Now.. for those of you who don't make a distinction between Christianity and religiosity, let me tell you that Christianity and religiosity go together about as well as oil and water -- they don't. True "Christianity" is about loving Jesus -- a real, true to live individual who you can interact with.. whereas other "religions" will only produce results based mostly on the power of positive thinking.

Anyway.. I had quite a few problems relating with the pastor, as well as most other people.. and it culminated until one time when I made a mistake of going up into the orchestra area and playing during a song when I shouldn't have. He shushed me in a very rude way, and made me feel that the calling which I thought I had gotten from God wasn't from Him.. which I realize now it wasn't.. but at the time, I was so insecure about anyone trodding on my relationship with God, that I wasn't about to take this. As a result, I decided to leave the orchestra, even when the performance was just a week away. I ran away from the church and left it.. and found another.

Eventually.. Anne and I split.. what little togetherness we had.. and I was alone again.. until I started going to Evangelical Free Church on the north side of town. This church was a little more open and free than the previous church I had gone to, but it didn't have anything like speaking in tongues or healing etc.. yet it had a youth group which was a bit more friendly to me, so I started going. However, this is where the pain really started.

You see, from the point of when I first started to know who Jesus really was, I got a definite boost in the difficulty department -- that is, of course, persecution. And it came mostly from my father. Yet I also had some great difficulties on my own, because, you see, my perceptions were at times definitely right on, yet, pastors told me otherwise. This is one such case.

One of the pastors at this church told me that the passage in Hebrews 6 never happened.. that it never occurred. This was the first time I started running into doctrinal fighting. I found out what "once saved always saved" meant. And I was against it from the start. I knew about free will.. I knew that I could always choose my life and that it wasn't forced upon me, and thus, I could foolishly choose sin even if my Father in Heaven wanted otherwise. Therefore I could choose to die. But one of the pastors at this church told otherwise.. that I was guaranteed heaven if I accepted Christ. Yet the Bible didn't say this. I read and reread and reread.. and I knew that I was right.. but to be told off by a pastor is one thing you can't really thwart until you're truly stable.

Also during this problem, I had a discussion with the pastor about the difference between the two words "shall" and "will".. well.. it was not a discussion, cuz he wouldn't listen. If any of you are wondering, and use the KJV, then you may want to know that "will" is supposed to be used only in a sentence where the outcome refers to a dependence on a person's will, not future tense so much, and that shall not only refers to a future tense, but refers to what I call a "future definite tense".. i.e. 1 + 1 shall always be 2. The earth shall continue to rotate unless God stops it. Jesus shall return. These are guaranteed events, and thus, the word "shall" makes sense. This is one reason I have problems with the NIV, for it says that if we believe in Christ, we guaranteedly make it to Heaven -- but the contemporary version of the phrase "believe in" means to trust in someone's ability to do what they say they can do -- so there are many ppl out there who merely believe in who Christ is and what He did, and do not follow Him, and thus, because of translations like the NIV in this verse, assume they shall obtain Heaven merely by this belief. Anyway, back to the story.

One night at the youth meeting, I met a girl whom I clicked with really well.. kinda at least.. and I brought her to my place.. and we got a bit physical. She was asking for sex.. but I told her I couldn't give it to her. We hung out together for a while.. a bit of the summer.. and I found something very nice with her. Because you see, she was the first person ever to trust that I knew what I was talking about. She believed that I truly was spending time with God and that God, Himself, was showing me things. I really missed those times. And it's only recently that I have found them again. :)

Well.. eventually.. even we split up.. because I was setting my sights on other girls.. and wanted the freedom to date openly.. but she took her leave and was back with an old boyfriend within 2 days.. I drifted from church to church.. seeking the truth here and there.. seeking messages from God all the time, but my sin wasn't helping. And neither did an occurrance which took place near Christmas of 92.

It was less than 2 weeks before Christmas.. and I was lookin for places to find the truth. I had asked God if there were any way to find my wife, then I'd do whatever it took.. assuming that I would find her by the end of the year. I put myself on the line all the time, speaking things I would not normally say, talking about Him more, etc. However, come this day, I shattered in a way which I am still recovering from.

It was December 13, Sunday morning. I went to this one church called Christ the King. It was on the north side of town, and an Assembly of God church. Now, when I went there, I went because I was after this one girl who I had met at Calvary Temple who went there now. But when the music started, I received another calling.

As I mentioned earlier, dancing was the one thing which brought me through the terrible years with my father from 8th through 12th grade. It was the one thing that kept me, because I loved it so much. And today was the day for dancing. When I heard the rock-beat of the music they played at this church, I felt so called to dance.. so moved.. I just didn't want to stop. However, the church had other ideas. Even though they were a pentecostal church, and truly supposedly involved with the gifts, they were quite against my form of worship.

I had danced up the aisle and into the front of the room, but still at a chair in the normal rows so I was not being super showy. I simply knew that the church needed to know that dancing was not only fun but welcomed by God. And they reacted. Within 30 seconds of my arriving at the front row, I had a "brother" beside me.. who started talking to me. Yet his eyes were not on worshipping God.. he raised his hands and did the normal "worship poses".. but his eyes were on me. The rest of the church had what I tend to call "aloof worship".. I cannot say that each and every one of them was not truly praising God, but the atmosphere was one of religiosity and not true praise.

Anyway, within a minute, I was escorted outside the church. I didn't know what to say.. all that came to my mind was the fact that David had danced and Saul had danced. I felt that I was not to try and speak, because the Holy Spirit was going to give me utterance. However, very little came out. I still wondered how much right and wrong I did that day. Yet what they told me really hurt. They basically told me they weren't going to tolerate that kind of worship here.. and when I asked what would happen if I went in there and danced again, they said, "Whatever it takes, we'll get you outta there." I thought a moment, then came in and sat in the back. I was deflated beyond measure. To have my most beautiful gift taken from me.. it destroyed me. And the people at that church who I knew didn't help either. Both that girl I had pursued and another turned me away and agreed with the pastors. (*sigh*) I felt lost.

I will say that from this point things really started to go downhill. I thought I was doing well.. but my absence of time in the Bible didn't help any. I met a girl on December 31st who I assumed was going to be my wife, though she was quite a bit younger than I. I even ended up following what I believed was the Holy Spirit into a park and into the woods and played my viola there as if to serenade her.. it wasn't even her house. (*sigh*)

Well.. things from then on were kinda tedious at work.. Scott, the manager, had wanted me to fill some bigger shoes.. do more management type stuff around the restaurant.. well.. I didn't do too well at that.. partially because he didn't tell everyone that I had the authority to tell them what to do now. So I was viewed as a big bossy idiot. Things started to cascade.. and then.. the big day.

I was in Calvary Temple's orchestra.. and it was Easter. We played a few beautiful pieces.. it was an expanded orchestra for Easter alone.. like the Hallelujah Chorus and a few others.. but that afternoon.. I did something so shameful.. so stupid.. I still can't believe I did it. I dared to masturbate.. and fantasize animalistically (werewolf-style).. in my room.. which was covered with Christian memorabelia.. while "Jesus Christ Superstar" was on the TV.. I think it was even my tape playing. And something so powerfully spiritual happened in that room that day.. I will never forget it. It was like I heard a big minor chord.. super loud.. echo through the room.. as if Heaven was gawking at me.. the whole of Heaven... and I don't doubt it.. to do what I did.. I had to be so closed-minded to sin.. I know I had read the whole new testament.. but I guess I had forgotten the part where it says to stay away from those who are still practicing sin.. masturbation.. I had tried to kick it so much.. but I never did.. I just kept doing it..

and this day.. I was going to pay for it.

You see, from that day forward, my whole life deteriorated. I fell apart at work.. I got slower and slower.. things got harder and harder.. I started getting spiritual torment.. and I never had before. Things got worse and worse. I even remember one night where I thought I had lost my salvation.. because I had called a spirit Satan.. which the voices were saying were of God. Yes.. now I call them the voices, because they were really tormenting me. I didn't check often enough which spirit was which.. (1John4:1-2).. and I got into deep trouble as a result. So deep.. that God made a special appearance, just for me.

You see, instead of declaring the Gospel to those I knew.. I instead just did little things and dropped hints and stuff.. and God seemed to get mad enough.. that He visited that Dairy Queen.. and spoke to me through the guy who I was training to do my job (I was being let go because I couldn't do the job anymore) This guy was Christian.. and quite in step with the Spirit. And I remember him telling me to tell God I loved Him.. don't just stifle it inside.. but shout it out. Which I did..but out the back door of the restaurant.. so as not to disturb anyone inside. Well, that wasn't good enough. God spoke through this guy and told me that my soul was in danger.. that I was ashamed.. and that I had to shout it right then and there.. in the restaurant.. to save my soul. I shouted, "God I love you!!!!" and found myself dancing and caught up in the Spirit.. until I took control again. I had danced out of the door.. into the parking lot. I had even tried to fly, as that was one way I knew I could be a witness for God.. or at least thought I could. Well, I came back inside a minute or so later.. and I started to think about the fact that the Apostles didn't have jobs.. or didn't talk about having them.. and so I thought working was serving money/mammon.. and I couldn't do that and serve God.. so.. I told Scott.. right then and there.. "I Quit! I'm serving God!" Well, he yelled at me.. "Can I get it in writing?" and then.. I wrote it down.. and took off.

Here begins the most scary part of the story.

I drove home. To my apartment a mile away. I then called Trish as I remember. And told her what I had done. She got me on the phone with another of her friends.. and we had a 3-way convo for a while. But things started sounding funny.. I started to think that the words they were saying didn't mean the same things.. I was confounded.. I know now that it was by a spirit.. an evil tormentor.. but I had no idea.. because I was losing touch with reality.

Eventually.. my dad called.. and we talked.. I'm guessing that Scott called him.. I don't know.. I just know that it was definitely a Godsend, him calling. There was one little problem, however. I made a promise to the Holy Spirit that I would not eat.. unless it was to prove that I wasn't a spirit. I had been feeling that I was running on the same meat that Jesus had been.. "to do the will of God". Well, I know I was getting energy from someplace.. because I had gone the whole last summer with virtually no food whatsoever. And Dad ended up taking me out to eat.. but I didn't object.. so I broke my promise so fast to the Holy Spirit.. that things got even worse.. reality became so skewed for me.. I couldn't even understand what people were saying.. I thought that everyone was my judge.. and that they were anointed of God to tell me things.. it was so strange. But stranger still was what happened when he had me talk to a counselor I had seen a while back.

When on the phone with the counselor.. I heard a voice.. an audible voice.. as we were talking about what I should do for the night.. I heard one say.. "Are you sure you don't want me with you?" I was freaked.. but I let it all stay inside.. it just all sat there..

I ended up in the mental ward of St. Joseph's Hospital that night.. I remember the check-in.. I was writing down why I was staying there.. it had to do with whether or not i had committed an unforgivable sin.. well.. when I was shown my room.. the nurse acted really strangely.. she said things like.. "Here's your horrible bed.. and horrible gown.. and horrible this.. and horrible that.." it was really freaky.. that night.. I didn't sleep well.. I'm not sure if it was that night.. or the night after... but one night.. Satan got my head spinning about the whole faith question.. and I couldn't deal with it.. the whole idea that if you don't believe God will help.. He won't. I couldn't deal with that at the time.. the intellectual side of it.. and my brain got into a spin.. and Satan got me believing that I had renounced God.. (something that Stacy said she had done).. and I ended up doing it for real several times.. but I came back to God so quick.. or at least to my hope in God.. and I begged for His forgiveness eventually..

as to when He actually forgave me.. I think it has to do with the whole idea of masturbation.. because it does say that without repentence, there is no forgiveness.. so I believe He's forgiven me now.. but I had many spiritual visitors when I was in that ward.. some who told me that "Jesus is dancing on your grave"

and "You have been blotted out of the book of life"

and "Die in your shame!"

I was having convos left and right with spirits.. and I couldn't tell who was from where..

After about 3 weeks.. and getting on medicine to supposedly "help" the voices.. as in make them less harsh.. (the medicine is called Navaine, and I still take some.. but nowhere near as much as then).. I was released from the ward into my father's care. I am still living with him today. But it has been a hard year and 10 months.. because he hasn't been too supportive of me.. he couldn't understand the torment I was under.. and I was too afraid/ashamed to tell him all I'd done.. or thought I'd done..

because.. you see.. Satan threw through my brain such vulgar and grotesquely sinful thoughts that anyone would've been crying for mercy.. I was whimpering.. I thought i was a gonner.. and sinning more by the second.. billions of sins a second.. it was hard to take..

However..

God had mercy on me.

And the funny thing was.. just how it started. I remember having this one dream.. where I was sitting on the steps by my mom's house's back door, and I saw this fire seem to shoot down from Heaven and this voice started echoing like crazy.. saying that I was doomed.. destined for hell.. etc.. well.. I ran inside and found my father there (kinda freaky when they're supposed to be divorced) but not my mother.. and I said, "Call the doctor! Call the doctor!".. kinda in parallel to what I had allowed to happen back when I was in the ward -- where I trusted not in spiritual help, but in physical worldly help.. due to the influence and beliefs of my father and that counselor.. and those in the ward.. I was simply diagnosed as a mental case.. schizophrenic to be precise.. not diagnosed as spiritually overtaken.. which was the truth. Even now as I amend this, I am fighting to get the counselors I see to truly believe that this *IS* a spiritual problem.. but they have me on medication still nonetheless.

Anyway.. after I woke up from the dream.. I shook in my bed for 20 minutes.. and when I finally calmed down.. I got angry.. sick of this whole thing. I *NEEDED* to know the truth.. whether I was destined to die or able to live... so I pulled out a Hebrew Greek Study Bible.. and found a page on one of the unforgivable sins.. which was "Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit." I was so sure that I had done it.. but that day I allowed Him to open my eyes and let me see that I had not.. or that at least there was a chance that I hadn't.

One of my biggest problems was the fact that.. I did not want to know still completely.. cuz if I *WERE* destined to die.. I would rather not know about it. But as time wore on.. I began to believe more and more that I was not a gonner.. partially because I was studying the topic more and more, and partially because of what God did for me next.

He led me to IRC.. as well as fellow Christians on other network hangouts called MUDs.. and He got me to confess the sins I thought I'd committed.. the weights just came off.. and I started chatting with the people around.. and finding out that I wasn't headed for Hell after all.. I mean.. all this time.. I felt God tell me personally.. but I was so untrustworthy of my own brain.. that I didn't trust what I was hearing.. yet I've had some rather beautiful experiences with some new friends on the net.. who read me verses they were led to by the Spirit.. which just happened to say that I was still ok.. and I just knew that it was of the Spirit.. and that it couldn't be anyone else..

But I wasn't yet convinced totally that I was ok.. not until I saw a rather unexpected visitor to the IRC channel I had been hanging out on. This person had a nickname of "Friends" and his IRCname was "Michael Smith".. and so I had to find out if it was really him.

We did quite a bit of talking.. about this and that.. my perception basically challenging him to reveal himself to me.. but he refused to answer the one question I knew that he could.. so I was still in doubt.. that is.. until he really started tellin me things bout the fact that I was not dead.. and that God still loved me.. but the real powerplay came when I asked him why he had gotten on that night.. and he told me that the Holy Spirit had told him to.. and that he believed it was to talk to me. BAM! Now either this guy was some raving lunatic.. or he was truly Michael Whittaker Smith. Cuz it's not in anyone's best interests to fake what the Holy Spirit has been telling you... and this night.. because of Michael's tolerance.. showed me that I was not a gonner after all.

Now.. I'm still in recovery.. but I've given most every part of myself to God.. I try to give all.. but I'm still afraid to preach.. I'm ok with a person when I get started.. but I know what it's like to be hurt for trying to help someone.. to be persecuted for being good.. for going the right way.. of course.. if we are to be part of Christ's Crucifixion.. then we will undoubtedly have scars when we are brought to the judgement seat on Judgement day.

I know I'm far from perfect.. but I know one thing.. I want to serve Him.. and Him alone. I'm turning my life more and more over to Him.. and I want Him to truly reign in it. I want to be an instrument.. that He can use whenever He needs.. to further His Gospel.. and advance His Kingdom..

On the personal side.. i want to be able to be here for anyone who needs me.. who cares.. who wants someone to care.. and wants God's will in their life.. or at least they feel His call.. He's already used me greatly.. I pray that He'll continue to do so in the days ahead..

This is the story of a boy.. who was hurt.. who didn't know how to love.. who gave his all to dance.. but lost his all to burn..

Back when I first wrote part 1, I was very scared.. and very hurt.. and really trying to make a name for God.. little did I realize that His name was already there.. written in black and white.. and red. He didn't need any help from me.. He just wanted me to surrender and let Him work. And that's what I have begun to do. This is coming slowly.. but just recently, God pulled a thorn out of my heart which has been there for over 10 years.. again, I'm speaking of that Spanish incident.. where the entire class enjoyed applauding my first mistake. That left such a deep impression on me.. and I'm gonna put a paper I wrote about it in senior year of high school inside this testimony, cuz it really helps explain how I got stuck and where. But what it *didn't* show.. is just how much I have been doing one thing which satan absolutely loves.. and that is, "Playing the victim."

I was perfectly willing to concede that I had no abilities to get out of my junk.. and that God had to do it.. but I needed to take the necessary steps as well.. this goes for the previous parts of the testimony as well. I never really fought against what my father did.. what society did.. etc.. I just took it.. cuz my self-image said I deserved it. Of course, that's kinda defeatest when God sacrificed His own begotten Son for me.. not so that I would die and fall apart.. but so that I could not only have life, but have it more abundantly. Unfortunately, it has taken me a good 26 years to realize one very important thing: Abundant life and emotionality may not always go hand in hand.

Oh I'm not saying that shutting off emotions is good.. but, due to that little shell I had developed way back.. and the profound experience I had when Jesus broke through it.. I found myself hooked on emotion -- hooked on feeling -- hooked on the powerful zap I got in my emotions.. not only from the soaring highs.. but from the dredging depths as well.. I became absolutely addicted to it.. and have been fighting with why for ages.. until I realized one thing: This is how American culture is.. if not the whole world. Many of us try and seek pleasure and sensation, versus the things which really do last.. such as real love (which is not always pleasant) and the truth (which is so sharp that it can cut between spirit and soul). And of course, I have truly realized there is only one place these can be found -- and that's in Jesus. But here goes the big problem.. the one I have found myself really falling twice because of.. and stumbling around at all times.

You see.. I was not happy to know God through the source He gave the world to find out what He was like -- i.e. the Bible. I was arguing constantly inside my heart that if He was my Daddie.. I wouldn't have to use a book to get to know Him.. but if only I had listened to my own advice.. I had told people many times that it was a 2 way street.. we must not only spend time in the Bible.. but we must spend time with God personally as well.. in prayer, adoration, and rejoicing.. in worship.. and in pain.. clinging to Him who created all things.. but I wasn't listening to the other way around.. I, again, made that mistake of mistakes.. I was searching for Spiritual revelation when the truth was already in the Bible.. and I just needed to search for it. It wasn't until just a few nights ago that I truly realized the power of what Paul said about not seeking God's answers straight from Him all the time.

You see, since we do still carry our flesh about with us.. and are quite imperfect.. we have to deal with temptations all the time to go in directions which Daddie doesn't want.. and since we are not accustomed to listening for spirits to tell us what to do.. and cuz God *placed* the Bible on the planet to be used.. we should do just that. The thing that has always bugged me, though.. is what do you do in a country which doesn't have the opportunity to have enough Bibles to go around? I really think that in the past, not every disciple went around carrying a roll of Scriptures under his arm.. but rather, learned them mouth to mouth much of the time.. yet this is only a guess. I just don't see God wanting us to carry tons of Bibles wherever we go.. to give out to people... cuz the Bible really needs an interpretor.. and if you are not close enough to the Spirit to get that interpretation on your own, you will undoubtedly lose sight of just what God is saying, and what you are saying, and what spirits around you are saying.. and it'll all get mixed up.. and you end up worse off than before. Yet I knew that I had to be spending time in the Bible.. but did not. And again, I payed for it.. with an event which is just a little too shameful for me to mention.. an event which could cost me any sort of good reputation for years to come... but I am not writing this to rant and rave about the past.. but to show you what God is doing with me currently.

As I mentioned above.. God led me to deal with the Spanish class again.. that pivotal point where I stopped caring about my grades.. He led me to this paper.. and led me to read the comments which were included.. and I was moved deeply to tears.. because you see..

My life was now mirroring my favorite song on the radio.. it's called "Touch of the Master's Hand," by Wayne Watson. It speaks of an auctioneer's last item.. a dusty, dirty, battered, scarred, old violin. He decides to sell it.. even though it seems it might not be worth his while to do so. And if you remember the story, he gets bids of 1, 2, 3, and 4 dollars for it. Then this grey haired man comes to the front and picks up the violin.. dusts it off.. tightens the strings.. then plays something so beautiful and touching.. that the whole crowd is moved.. moved so much.. that their bids show it.. as the auctioneer takes bids again and they ring out with thousands of dollars instead of single ones. The lesson of this song is in the third verse.. where it speaks of the parable in itself.. the violin comparable to us before we let God rule.. and then after.. when He takes it in His arms and plays it.. and everyone starts bidding thousands.. why? the crowd asks.. did it change? cuz of the Touch of the *MASTER'S* hand. And that's just what He's been doing with me.

When I was a young kid.. I was hated.. really despised at times.. cuz my intelligence and grades made the kids look bad.. and I was too afraid to ask the intelligent ones who didn't get mocked why they weren't.. I just stayed quiet and took it.. and cried at times... but after I let God wipe the dust off.. and tighten my strings.. I started to sing out with a love inside me that really wants to make a difference in this world.. and knows that with God.. it can. And well.. here is that story, much as it was when I first wrote it: