Someone Save Me

In 2010 there was an encounter that shook my faith until this day. My religion is clearly misguided even though I do believe in a higher power.

My mother passed away when I was 13. It’s been nearly 5 years since that time and I still feel that my time with her was stripped away from me too soon. There could have been time, or there should have been more time. I selfishly wished that God would have never taken the one thing away that meant so much to me.

I wanted someone--anyone-- to save me.

Life wasn’t going my way; my immediate family were being idiots from the very start and blatantly left me to sit there and take the reigns for my mother. I was 13. Why was I deciding when she died, and how it would happen? Why didn’t my brother who is 8 years older than me decide?

Why didn’t someone save me?

I was pissed. Pissed beyond compare. I felt alone, isolated, abandoned by the one person who was supposed to be there for me the most and He was not is what I felt. He abandoned me. He left me to rot in an icy Hell that I didn’t know how to get out of. God, why? Is the question I wanted to ask; but remembering the strong faith of my mother she always told me to never question Him. But it never occurred to me the number of questions left unanswered in the wake of this life-shattering event.

Someone should have saved me.

My immediate family still isn’t here. Am I to blame? Is it because I was too angry, too livid from my mother’s passing for them to up and run away from me? Was I not good enough for the people who claim to be my own blood? Why weren’t they here with me? And why aren’t they here still?

Why couldn’t I be saved?

Until this very day my life has spiraled. I’ve almost lost my damn marbles a couple times. Trying to figure out this game we call life. Trying to figure out my purpose and what my Savior really make me for. I’m still wondering when I can be saved.