To Hell in a Handbasket

At this point, I would love to say that I was a victim of obscene circumstances, but unfortunately most of my troubles resulted directly from sin—my sin. Granted, much of what happened to me before I grew big enough to defend myself laid beyond my control.
My parents were far too emotionally stretched to nurture the youngest of five children. A grudging and abusive alcoholic, Dad monopolized most of my mother’s defense mechanisms. While she wasn’t looking, I fell victim to my pedophilic grandfather. Being the smallest and most defenseless in the family, my parents and older siblings seemed to take their
stress and frustration out on me and in return, I acted out the family dynamics with alarming conformity to the traditional model of dysfunction.
The sob story ends there, however. The rest of my adversities struck when I agreed to and cooperated with chemical dependency, eating disorders, occult activity, and sexual promiscuity. I disrespected my parents, mercilessly aggrieving my mother, and placed my own gain before the needs of others. By my provocative dress and manner, I thumbed my nose at every noble and respected institution.
Intrinsically, I knew right from wrong. I regularly attended church and religious education while growing up, and my mother presented an unwavering example of faith. I witnessed my father’s fatal decline to alcoholism first hand. I read the Reader’s Digest articles about the dangers of tobacco. Even though I was totally indoctrinated in the New Age movement, I still knew enough to be afraid to sleep in the same room with a deck of tarot cards.
I chose to sin because in many cases it was fun and produced desirable results—at least for the short term—and it stoked my pride. Giving into temptation often proved a lot easier than putting up a fight and in my circle of family and friends, I had little positive support or encouragement either way.
Still, the choice was incontrovertibly mine. I have no one but myself to blame for the years of bondage. I willfully and knowingly shackled myself. Even though I wasn’t sacrificing small animals or dancing around pentagons, I was obeying, ministering to, and serving the Emptier through my foolish rebellion. God forgive me!