In my head

You may be aware, or you may not, but I have a somewhat odd relationship with my beliefs. I'm a pelagianist christian (I have a word for it now!), which is a school of belief which was popular in the Celtic Church prior to the Synod of Whitby, and basically means that I don't believe in original sin or predestination, but that Jesus came to offer us atonement for our sins and to show us the right way of living. Since Pelagianism was condemned in 418, I'm not 100% sure where they stood on individual rules, so I have done a bit of making it up as I go along and go along with the general principal of "if it's hurting someone else, it's bad. If it's got the potential to hrut someone else it's not good. If it's not hurting anyone else or likely to hurt anyone else then it's fine, and if it's beneficial to someone else then it's something to aim for".

I feel like I'm being called, actually. This is not what this post was going to be about. This post was going to be about my occasional suicidal thoughts, but this is really fucking weird and needs to be talked about. God wants me to be a vicar. Me, really? I'm a walking schism!

I can't describe this at all. It is the strangest, most terrifying feeling. Somewhere between standing on the edge of a cliff and hearing the back of your mind telling you to jump, and waiting for exam results to come out, but nothing like either of those.

Confused now.