...and yes, that includes this stupid effing 'blog. No funny anecdote or cute diffuser to pull the punch, here. I mean it. I hate the weather, I hate grocery shopping, I hate my apartment and people and shoes and my life. I didn't want to wake up this morning and I didn't want to go to work, I don't want to write this stupid thing and I don't want you to read it. I don't want to hear about how much you've enjoyed it and I don't want you to tell me how much you appreciate my humor or my honesty or whatever. It makes me want to scream or throw up or both to hear you say that. I want to be injured and pissed off and have people just leave me alone and let everything take care of itself so I can sleep for a month until maybe I feel like getting out of bed and going outside again. And I cannot BELIEVE I quit drinking.
I should probably back up and explain all of this, but I don't want to. I'm tired of repeating the stories and the emotions and being "encouraged" and having people offer themselves up as a sounding board just in case I feel like talking about it, like their sympathetic ear is the magic cure-all that I've been waiting around for. I don't feel like talking about it. I don't need your pity or a hug or anything. I don't want you to tell me that it's all okay or that it's all going to be okay and try and make me feel better. I hurt. I'm angry. I'm sad. And I just want all it to stop.
See, this is why I started drinking in the first place: I figured out how to make it stop. I figured out how to flip the off-switch and drown out the big voices in my head. I figured out how to kick everything into neutral and just coast. I've done it before and I can do it again. It's not illegal and you don't need a prescription for the stuff. They sell it at every effing gas station in town.
Put down the phone and don't bother e-mailing me. I'm not about to cash in everything I've fought for just to shut my brain up for one evening. I've worked too hard to get where I am to throw it all away. Besides, I've done it enough to know that it's only temporary and I can't afford to go back down that path ever again. I'm just saying (though I'm still not entirely certain to whom), I know it's out there and I could do it if I wanted to. Call it a control thing. Whatever.
The stupidest part about this whole thing is that most Christians I know are some of the worst people to turn to in this kind of situation. They either pat me on the shoulder and say "That sucks, man," and then duck and run because it freaks them out to see me this way and they don't know what else to do or they toss a fistful of piety my way, telling me I should pray about it or read such-and-such a verse or that "You just gotta remember like, how big God is, man," like they're throwing loose change from a moving car at a bum on a street corner without even slowing down. I know I should be careful saying stuff like that because this is totally public and you never know who's reading it and you're probably wondering if I'm talking about you and blahblahblahblahblah, but it's true. I've been drive-by'ed with Jesus more times than I care to remember.
And I think that's why it's the stupidest part: the people who should be awesome at this kind of thing totally suck at it. The whole idea behind who Jesus was and what he came to do was centered around sacrifice and humility and so few of the people who say they follow him get that idea and are willing to do it themselves. I've seen so many people posture and grand-stand and hide behind what they believe or know about the Bible to try and distance themselves from the all the ugliness and pain and brokenness associated with being human. It's like they're trying to reason with all the suffering in the world, as if to use words to erase the silence; as if talking could prevent all those people from feeling all that pain.
But the God they keep prattling on about didn't do that. Think about it -- infinite and invisible God. Sovereign over all creation. He was the only person who could've hand-written what his life would look like before he ever lived it and kept anything that even looked like brokenness and suffering away from it. He could've done anything he wanted. If helping everybody feel better was what he really cared about, he could've just written us a letter or sent us an e-card to cheer us all up. He could've given everybody a cat poster and told us to keep our chins up and keep truckin' or whatever and he never would have had to inconvenience himself by leaving heaven and confining himself to a body and getting his hands dirty. He could've been born in 2010 in Monaco with an awesome house and air conditioning and a sweet car and an iPad. He could've had rich parents and a hot girlfriend and a billion friends on Facebook and started a huge corporation that made trillions of dollars and then used that money to eradicate social injustice and poverty and and disease and crime and hunger and sex trafficking. And he never would have had to be homeless or ridiculed or run out of town or nailed to a cross and dumped in a cave to rot.
But he didn't do that. And I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. I mean, I understand the theological implications of why, don't get me wrong... I just can't understand how someone would willfully choose to live on the bottom rung of the ladder their whole, entire life. I can't understand why anybody would choose to suffer. It doesn't make sense to me. I guess it's just one more reason why we're all super-lucky that I'm not Jesus, because I wouldn't have done it.
I read recently that what a person cares about is reflected by the choices they make. I think that's embarrassing but true. I think it's embarrassing because of how many choices I make that are rooted in an attempt to protect or secure myself somehow. I think that says a lot about me as a person. I think that it's true precisely because of what it says about me as a person.
But at the same time, I think that maybe the fact that Jesus chose to be born in a shit-hole town to poor parents says a lot about him as a person. I think it makes a strong statement about how he thinks suffering people should be treated. I think it says that promising to pray for them and moving on with your day is the wrong thing to do. I think it blows the wheels off of the drive-by change-flinging.
In a lot of ways, I feel like I've been in shock or under anesthesia for years and it's finally starting to wear off. I feel like a lot of things I've tried to bury are coming to the surface and erupting in ways that I don't think I'm ready for. I feel like I've gone through hell to get where I am just so I can face what's really wrong with me. In a lot of ways, I'm sick of it and I'm ready for things to start getting better for a change. But I think that's a wrong way to think about what's happening in my heart and my life. I think I need to feel the way I feel right now. I need to remember what I've done and what's happened to me so that it can remind me that the damage is still there and it's still real and I still need to be healed of it. I think that the worst of it is probably yet to come. But I think it would be wrong for me to avoid it or try to act like it isn't going on or hope that I can distract myself with something else that's happy and positive and will somehow make up for this. And, if you're doing that in your own life, I think it's wrong for you to do it, too.
I doubt that any of this made sense to you and, to be honest, I don't care. I'm not going to come back and edit this or condense it all down to something that makes sense or reads easier. I also don't have some lighthearted or upbeat note to end this on. I'm okay with that. It's my effing 'blog and I can do what I want with it. I'm not going to apologize for this, now or ever, so if something I said offended you or it's not your cup of tea, then good. It probably needed to and you should probably figure out a way to stop lying to yourself and be self-aware (for probably the first time in your life). Sin is a disgusting reality of life on such a level that "crude language" and temper tantrums barely scratch the surface of how dark and damaging it truly is. Sorry, friends, but "shoot" and "darn" just don't work for some things. In fact, if you can't look around you at all the evil in the world and see it for what it truly is and label it as such... well, I don't even know a word to describe that.
And don't you dare tell me that you'll be praying for me. If prayer was my deepest need, I could do it myself.
So I'm going to go be sad and angry now. I'm going to throw things and kick things and cry and be mad about the way I feel. I'm going to say terrible stuff to and about good people and I'm going to say good stuff about terrible people. I'm going to say things that I've never said out-loud to anybody because I don't want to admit the truth about who I really am and what I really think and feel. I'm going to be unpleasant and scary and, if you saw it, you would wonder what happened to me and if I've lost my mind. And I don't care. I need this. It's my life and I'm tired of living it this way.
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