The Jehovah’s showed up at my door this morning to spread the word. The door bell rang and I knew there was no hiding, as I have a huge bay window in front of my home and uncharacteristically, the blinds were open.
I contemplated answering versus not answering and just decided to open the door. What did I care that I hadn’t showered in two days and was in my pajama pants and sweater without a bra? They’re non-judgmental, right? They were here to save me, to spread the good word.
I didn’t really want to talk to them, so of course, I told a little white lie, or was it? I told them I was sick. Ha, understatement of the year! So the woman graciously hands me a pamphlet to read and begs me not get her sick. I refrained from laughing, because what I really wanted to say was, “Lady, what I’ve got is not contagious!”
Instead, I thanked them for their literature, closed the door and added it to my kindling pile for my fire later. Gold star for me! I controlled my mouth! Yay, me! My counselor would be so proud.
The oddest part of this situation is that I probably could use some form of saving, but you know what? I don’t really care. Right now, I don’t think God or Jehovah or Jesus Christ himself could save me!
I have people telling me they will pray for me, and I thank them, but seriously, WTF? Is this because no one knows what to say to someone who’s beyond depressed?
Don’t get me wrong, I must believe in God of some form or another because I am mad as hell at whoever controls this universe, because I sure as hell know it is not me.
Why does faith piss me off so much? Am I jealous that I do not possess such a faith? I asked my best friend, who goes to church and is strong in her faith, how she came to be such a believer. She tried to explain it to me, stating that she just believes there is something better looking over us. Wow! God bless her. And I say that with no sarcasm, truly I do.
But for me, I think I am incapable of just believing. Show me some concrete evidence. Show me why I should believe in this greater being that has better things in store for me. How much does one have to suffer before the “better” comes along?
And believe me, I know there are plenty of people who have suffered much more than I have, but personally, I think I have had enough…I’ve been sexually assaulted, lost a baby I carried for 8 ½ months, was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease while pregnant with my second child and had to deliver him 3 months early so I could start chemo, had an abusive first husband who kidnapped my daughter while I was going through chemotherapy, lost another baby, was on bed rest for 5 months with my last child and this October my daughter returns home after being assaulted while away at school.
Excuse me for wanting to scream, “ENOUGH ALREADY!!” And I wonder why I am depressed? I wonder why I can’t just keep going on and suck it up. I’ve sat on my front porch at night while the rest of my family is asleep, staring up at the sky crying, begging for a sign from God and nothing.
I’m unfortunately not one of the blessed ones.
Although, have you ever been privileged enough to meet someone who loves flaunting their blessed status? Well, let me tell you, you are missing out if you haven’t! In my town, we have these two people with personalized license plates that say, “GODS SON” and “GODS DTR.” When you come across these individuals, don’t dare say hello and ask how they are doing because you are not going to get what every person wants to hear, which is: “Good. How are you?” Oh no, you get: “I’m fantastic because I’m blessed.” (Excuse me while I choke on my vomit!) I am not lying, and I am not exaggerating.
These are the same people that claim losing a baby is God’s will. It’s infuriating! At least to me it is. Maybe I need to pop a Xanax or two before coming across them next time! Although, the chances of running across them at this time in my life is almost non-existent since I don’t like going out much anymore. The less I have to see people, the better.
So I suppose going to church for answers is out of the question for me right now too. However, when I was younger, I attended church occasionally. I believed in good and evil. I am certainly not well educated in religion, but I did believe that good people had good things happen to them and bad people had bad things happen to them.
Wow, was I sorely mistaken. Talk about naïve! But it’s those theories that led me to my belief and misguided way of thinking today. I rationalize all of the horrid things happening to me as punishments for some of the bad things I have done in my life, but even still, I feel I have paid my penance.
I want to believe, I want to be saved, I want to believe there is some bigger plan, but in the back of my mind, I can’t turn off the voice that keeps chanting, “BOHICA, BOHICA, BOHICA.” For those of you that don’t know what that acronym stands for, it stands for “Bend Over Here It Comes Again.”
My cup runneth over with pessimism and I guess it’s not going to change much, at least not tonight, since that pamphlet offered by the Jehovah’s this morning, helped to get my house to the toasty 82 degrees it is right now.