Dear Diary:

Currently, my life sucks! As a former Christian, I distinctly comprehend the significance behind for better or for worse, whereas, I persisted in praising God for life’s downfalls, in addition to life’s windfalls. However, lately, I’ve felt my life has become purposeless and insignificant, while partially convinced that I’m stranded in an overbearing world without legitimate instructions for an escape route.

Diary, immediately eliminate thoughts regarding suicide! You ought to feel ashamed for deeming me incapable of tolerating life’s challenges. You know, it is conceivable that I may be undergoing some form of climacteric phase, or perhaps I’m experiencing the onslaught of depression—or oppression, for that matter.

In reference to the paranormal activity in my home, through research I’ve read that demonic influence is capable of oppressing human beings to a great extent. Nonetheless, it would be rather complicated to accept these particulars as a liable explanation for the lackluster haze that has engulfed my life. My education concerning the supernatural merely reflects on unverified content from the Internet and from personal experience, leaving me ignorant to the effects of a hardcore demonic oppression. In my opinion, investigating the possibility of depression would likely inspire my therapist, as opposed to mentioning demonic warfare around my home and the possible impression it has on my behavior.

In the meantime, Diary, I lay frightened in my bed at night, my prayers unanswered while the unseen entity claims its nightly position at my side, where it unlawfully caresses my hair and exposed skin for its personal enjoyment. I prayed with desperation as a devout Christian, and continued to pray, despite losing my faith; nevertheless, I remain a victim to foul matter as I lay helpless to its endeavors.

Due to circumstance, Diary, I’m unable to praise God for life’s downfalls.