There's something wrong in my head.

I'm in a place where Satan looks a lot like God, where I can't decide whether I should shake my head or nod to things I'd like to tell myself I know I don't agree with. And I know I don't agree with them and so does everyone else that has even met much less heard about my parents and the way they raised me. I didn't want mom or dad to find out about my sin, but 11 pages later and I still think I’m the smartest person in the world. Oh no, mom, we don't defile our bodies with worldly poisons or fill up our lungs with toxic smoke, but I can tell you for a fact I read my bible everyday and I talk to God more than I talk to any of my friends. But, you know, maybe I lied a little bit back there. Maybe I just told a little white lie that one day I will be judged for before the judgment seat of who I thought was supposed to be my savior. What I actually meant to say was I live a life completely contrary to what you and dad taught me. I am not perfect, and no one else is, but I know what perfect is for me and I am far from that. I’d like to think I'm not miserable and I’d like to think I'm right. But I know good and well and so do you that I am not the person I am supposed to be. When I cry I cry tears of laughter rather than tears of sorrow when I realize my habits will lead to my demise. There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing, there's nothing wrong going on in my head. I'm just a selfish sinner who would rather end up dead when I know good and well I’d rather be up in heaven with my family and friends. I couldn't tell you what friends of mine I'd see up there but if they're the ones I've been hangin’ around then I’d be a little bit more than surprised. I've been praying for them for about over a year now and I so shamefully pray for myself when I know shortly after I'm gonna slip up just like they have. Conviction is a powerful medicine but the sting will hurt me more than you know. I constantly wonder why I can't live the life I want to, like there's something special about mine. Those who plan to seek God at 11 die at 10:59, and I can't afford to lose that time. I gotta act now, God, I gotta act now, but with the environment I live in I'm not sure how. Help me Jesus find the way back to my bed, help me Jesus fix the wrongs in my head.