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The Abyss of Addiction
I’ve always admired people who grew up with a sense of self and purpose. Especially those in my high school who knew what major they wanted to have in University. I mean, how did they know?? I was still trying to figure out if I wanted cheese bread or Taco Bell for lunch most days.
Being born into a Catholic family, I spent most of my Sunday’s praying to an invisible God on my knees. I also spent most of that hour counting down the minutes to the free coffee and donuts afterwards served by the church volunteers. They were always so friendly.
A seeker of answers and truth my entire life, I later became a volunteer at a Korean Christian church in my twenties. I wasn’t a Christian or Korean but my mom supported my decision because I told her I still believed in God.
“Are you happy?” she asked me afterwards.
“Yes, mẹ, mom in Vietnamese,” I replied.
“Good, that’s good,” she said and with that came the end of our conversation.
I spent those four years being happy and clapping my hands to many Christian rock bands. I swear I felt the Holy Spirit beat move through me or it could have been the bass, either way, I was rocking and rolling. I even took my Dad along with me, but he was more of the solemn and serious Catholic services type, the singing wasn’t for him.
