As I sit here pantless on my couch, picking at my very chipped nail polish, I wonder when. When did it all go wrong? When did I say, “Are you there, God? No? Honestly, I didn’t think you would be. OK well, if you’re listening, I’m sorry but I think our relationship is over. I mean, you’ve always been kind of distant in a non-existent kind of way. Like, I’m really starting to feel like I’m nagging you with all my demands and no one likes a needy woman. I just don’t like what this relationship has turned me into.
“The other day, I thought I saw you in my peripheral and got a jolt of excitement mixed with fear in my stomach because I wasn’t expecting to see you, you sneaker upper-on-er, you. You’re almost as bad as that devil guy. But, when I quickly turned around, all I saw was my reflection in the mirror. I thought you seemed kind of short, even in that brief instance, but I’ve never actually seen you so, how would I know? Anyway, was that supposed to be a sign/symbol/metaphor of who God is? Am I….God? What I’m trying to say is…I’m leaving you, for me.”
What in God’s name is she going on about?
For God’s sakes do we need to talk about this? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!! Fine. Let’s talk about this. I think I might have had the conversation with God in my early 20s. I lost my mother at 13, high school was shit which led to me being depressed in my late teens/early 20s. That, combined with conversations about ‘poo’ with my Dad (I’ll get into that in the next section), is when I started to turn my back on religion because science started to make more sense. Where was God when I truly felt terrible? How could God let me feel this horrible and then I’m told I’m lucky to be alive? Fuck. You.
On the 7th day, God created (wo)man….or was it the 6th?
Can poo be used to explain our scientific existence over religious explanations? Obviously! Get your head out of the gutter and get serious. For as long as I can remember, my family (including extended) has gotten a kick out of toilet humour – the Maltese like British humour which contains a healthy amount of toilet. So, using feces would be the best way to make us really understand a concept and of course, keep our attention. This here (sorry dad) is a dinner conversation at Orchard’s – our common dinner spot since no one cooked in my house. It definitely affected me since I remember where it happened and the gist of the conversation 10 years later. This is the convo, paraphrased:
“It’s truly amazing what we know and what little we know about space, our universe and how vast it is. We have no idea where it ends. The difference in size between us and the universe and beyond is like how viruses are to us and maybe even more so. Just like a microscopic virus, we ourselves could be in someone/thing elses body who is much bigger than ourselves. We could be so insignificant that we are in someone’s poo. And one push for them, is like millions of years for us.” “Dad, that makes so much sense. We probably are in someone’s poo.” “How’s the burger?” “Pretty good.”
But, my dad never once said he didn’t believe in God. After his poo talk, which probably happened again because poo is funny, he always said that “someone” would have had to still create all of it. It can be hard to believe that this all just happens to exists.
So uh, do you believe in God?
No. I don’t. But, I ain’t no Athiest either.
When I told God that I was leaving him for me, what I meant was that I would rely on myself from now on. Work on myself, better myself, and move beyond the depression so that I could function in my ‘lucky’ existence. I’ve never once thought that I gained strength to overcome depression because of God. That notion drives me insane. I don’t understand how people can attribute all their successes to ‘God’s help’ or ‘God’s will’. No, it’s because you fucking did it. God gets way more kudos than he deserves. Give yourself some God damn props! That being said, I’m not a religion basher. I’m more of a religion-basher basher. I completely respect those who have faith in a god and all I expect in return is not to be preached at.
But really, the only reason I can get away with denouncing God is because I’m baptized and will go to heaven anyway. Sucks for all you non-Christians! (wink)