i don't deserve my family's love...or God's, and they are kinda the same thing

Ohhh boy. Yesterday was a ROUGH day. Seems like I'm having a lot of those lately, amIright?! Can I share it with ya'll? I can? Thank you.

If you've been reading for awhile, you know that I've taken college classes every year since I was a freshman. Interpersonal communications the first go around, Health & Intro to Computers a couple semesters back, and English/Expository Writing this time. And it is BY FAR the toughest class I've taken.

It's not hard as in challenging by any means...I know how to write a paper but this teacher is very specific in his instructions and wants you to follow them to a T. No exceptions. That's resulted in lots of resubmitting and outstanding assignments. I submitted something FOUR TIMES before it was accepted. That's not the way I roll but I'm learning to cope.

But yesterday it was just too much. I felt like I was being picked on and my oh so carefully written paragraphs and papers were constantly being rejected. We had been working on just one assignment {that was being revised for the third time} for the WHOLE night, myself, Mama, and the cousin Sam included. Not the way I wanted to spend my night, if you know what I mean.

I wasn't having a good attitude about nit-picking a simple assignment and it spiraled downward. Dad walked in with a Adele music video on the phone to try and cheer me up and I snapped because the thought of something GOOD made me want to cry. I was afraid to be happy because I knew I had to go back to this "unhappy" assignment. I shoved them out of the way, screamed about the riduclousness of everything, stomped up the stairs, and parked my behind behind the door to my room, lights off, a sobbing snotty mess, and anger consuming me.

You know that sinking feeling when you realize you had a hissy fit...and YOU have to clean it up. Yeah, that. I felt HORRIBLE, you guys. I yelled and screamed at people who were just trying to help me, not make it worse like I thought. I hurt them and that hurt me to the core. I cried all over again wishing I hadn't gone crazy because a thing like that wasn't going to be forgotten anytime soon. They love me & I treated them like dirt.

After a while, I heard Mama padding up the stairs. She looked around then found me, handing me the laptop and said "Ask him about this assignment. That's all; then we'll call it a night" and she went right back downstairs. I submitted the question to the teacher and went downstairs, not at all ready to face the mess I had to clean up.

After I had tearfully apologized to everybody {and I mean tearfully. I bawled more than I had in a looong time} I sat in my bed and cried some more. Lots of crying, I tell you. I felt like one of those toddlers that has a crying fit for so long that they forget to breathe and hyperventilate. I'm pretty sure Dad had to change his shirt because it was so nasty.

I went to bed having made everything right with everybody, but my actions kept playing over & over in my head, haunting me. I started crying again because I just couldn't believe I had done what I did: have a full out temper tantrum over school. I felt like I didn't deserve the forgiveness I had received...and I knew it was true.

And, as the tears dried, I had a revelation..."If I don't deserve the family God gave me, what in the world makes me think I deserve HIM?! Jesus didn't die for me so I could act this way, no sir he didn't. So why am I doing it? " A whole new batch of tears flowed down my cheeks & I told God I was sorry. Sorry for not being grateful to Him for a family that I can yell at and they still love me...but most of all I was sorry for the way I treated them AND Him. And I cried myself to sleep, feeling oh so loved by both God & my family.

Ah, much better. I had to get that off my chest, so thanks for understanding readers. One day I'll look back and say "Man, I was a hormonal teenage mess. What an overreaction!" and laugh my head off. Or maybe not. I'm guessing the latter.

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