Z
ZTyler93
Guest
When I was 15 years old, my 17 year old brother was killed by a drunk driver. He was walking home from a friend’s house on a Saturday evening when a man drove up on the curb and directly hit him with his vehicle. He then proceeded to drag his body 200 feet down the road before crashing into a fence.
Vince was such an intelligent guy. He was so much smarter and talented than I will ever be, even at my wisest. He was in the process of starting Northwestern University, he had a decent job for a teenager, and a loving girlfriend.
The justice system where I grew up was not fair by any means; he was only sentenced to 12 years in prison. We found out later that the drunk driver who murdered my brother was in the process of becoming a Catholic deacon. I was the only one who was bothered by this.
I didn’t know how to cope with this loss. I felt like I was alone. I was confused. And I was exceptionally hurt. When I turned 16, I earned my license and could drive by myself after 6 months. I started going to Mass every Saturday, to the same parish the murderer attended all his life. Once again, I was confused. I didn’t know what else to do. The parishioners seemed to revere this guy as saintly, which angered me. I always sat in the back corner and thought to myself. I never stood or spoke. I never looked at anyone, or shook anyone’s hand. I didn’t introduce myself or stay after for food. I stared and cried. I tried to understand why someone would do such a thing.
Then, I started blaming all Catholics. By age 17, I would say that I absolutely detested Catholics, Catholicism, and the RCC. When I was a senior in high school, there was this Catholic kid who was the perfect example of a Catholic. He was nice to everyone and inclusive. Everyone liked him. But I was annoyed by him. Maybe because in my head, I couldn’t envision a Catholic as a gentle person, but rather as a murderer, an uncaring and unkind beast. I cornered him after school one day and I threatened him. He shoved me out of the way and I punched him in the mouth. We were both suspended for fighting. I’ve never spoken to him since that day.
I’m now in college, and I wouldn’t say I hate Catholics anymore. However, I still have trouble interacting with them. I have no Catholic friends for a good reason. The worst part is that two of my roommates are Catholic. They’re not devout or even active by any means, but the thought that they have been confirmed, grew up saying the Nicene Creed, and went to private, Catholic schools gets under my skin.
I still go to Mass. Every Sunday actually. In fact, Mass ended an hour and a half ago. I just don’t know how to cope anymore. I only started going to figure out the truth. This is just how I have coped with things all these years. I feel weak and I don’t know who to turn to at this point. Does anyone have any advice? Can anyone relate?
Vince was such an intelligent guy. He was so much smarter and talented than I will ever be, even at my wisest. He was in the process of starting Northwestern University, he had a decent job for a teenager, and a loving girlfriend.
The justice system where I grew up was not fair by any means; he was only sentenced to 12 years in prison. We found out later that the drunk driver who murdered my brother was in the process of becoming a Catholic deacon. I was the only one who was bothered by this.
I didn’t know how to cope with this loss. I felt like I was alone. I was confused. And I was exceptionally hurt. When I turned 16, I earned my license and could drive by myself after 6 months. I started going to Mass every Saturday, to the same parish the murderer attended all his life. Once again, I was confused. I didn’t know what else to do. The parishioners seemed to revere this guy as saintly, which angered me. I always sat in the back corner and thought to myself. I never stood or spoke. I never looked at anyone, or shook anyone’s hand. I didn’t introduce myself or stay after for food. I stared and cried. I tried to understand why someone would do such a thing.
Then, I started blaming all Catholics. By age 17, I would say that I absolutely detested Catholics, Catholicism, and the RCC. When I was a senior in high school, there was this Catholic kid who was the perfect example of a Catholic. He was nice to everyone and inclusive. Everyone liked him. But I was annoyed by him. Maybe because in my head, I couldn’t envision a Catholic as a gentle person, but rather as a murderer, an uncaring and unkind beast. I cornered him after school one day and I threatened him. He shoved me out of the way and I punched him in the mouth. We were both suspended for fighting. I’ve never spoken to him since that day.
I’m now in college, and I wouldn’t say I hate Catholics anymore. However, I still have trouble interacting with them. I have no Catholic friends for a good reason. The worst part is that two of my roommates are Catholic. They’re not devout or even active by any means, but the thought that they have been confirmed, grew up saying the Nicene Creed, and went to private, Catholic schools gets under my skin.
I still go to Mass. Every Sunday actually. In fact, Mass ended an hour and a half ago. I just don’t know how to cope anymore. I only started going to figure out the truth. This is just how I have coped with things all these years. I feel weak and I don’t know who to turn to at this point. Does anyone have any advice? Can anyone relate?