I Don't Get It

It’s amazing the difference a couple days can make. Today, I feel like my actual self, whereas yesterday and especially the day before I felt like my old self who used to waste so much energy beating himself down. And to a large extent I credit writing for helping me turn the corner and get back on track.

When we think we have to deal with our shit ourselves, the turnaround time to get to feeling good again is unnecessarily increased. We get stuck with our limited thoughts and tempted to think that we’re alone in our shit. If yesterday, I had decided to blow off writing, I couldn’t have experienced the turning of the tide, because not only does writing help me figure shit out in and of itself…the feeling of getting feedback and support from other people who have lived through similar shit or at the very least get me…that’s priceless.

That’s why I feel like I have no choice but to write without filters. Trying to look good didn’t work out so well when I was pretending to have my shit together as a Christian. I had to shed that fake outer layer to get to the stuff that makes up my real story. And through the real, I can eventually get to who I am and who I want to be.

And throughout all of that, if we put up walls or hold stuff back or get stuck in the “I can’t share this part of me” we shortchange both ourselves and others. How are we going to know who our people are if we don’t give the real us to the world? How are we going to know that we’re not alone with our struggles? Or with our pasts? Or with the pieces of our day to day that create paralyzing mind fucks?

It’s a really uncomfortable feeling to be sitting in church, looking at all the good people, knowing you don’t measure up. But, it’s a worse feeling to be sitting in church, looking at all the other fucked up people, knowing everyone is too scared to be real. That’s why I took my life elsewhere. Church was too lonely.

I know every church tries to be the one church that’s different. Every church thinks they do it right or at least try to do it right, but I think it would be refreshing to have a church that admits they don’t have a fucking clue.

Like, compare the vibe of a church to that first impression when you meet someone…if another person gives you a vibe of perfection or that they’re trying to impress you with their money or job or social status or whatever, is it not an immediate turn off and/or the crying out of a human who feels so shitty about the person they are, that they need stuff to compensate for what they may lack in self-worth? Good lord, that was long. But, contrast that mess of a sentence with someone who just admits they don’t get it, who wants to figure it out, but doesn’t have the answers…who make fun of themselves and don’t take life so seriously.

So, why do churches take the approach of trying to impress instead of just being real? Look at our big building. And our fancy sanctuary. And our fellowship hall. Give us money so we can keep up appearances. Come on. How can we honestly read a Bible (I meant you, because I don’t read it) where Jesus talks shit on religion/the religious leaders of that time and think it doesn’t apply to modern Christianity?

And on the one hand, I can sympathize with the dick waggers who need to have huge muscles or bank accounts or job titles to make them feel okay and in that category I think one could lump a lot of religious leaders who feel good because they “do good”. But, man…those aren’t the kind of people I want to spend time with.

Like, say you meet a nice bodybuilder and get him (or her) home and find out underneath it all he (or she) has a tiny penis. Or you find out that the person with that really hot bank account only got it because deep down they have no soul. Or that deeply religious person is only that on the outside and inside they’re full of shame and secrets.

Hollow seems to be pretty popular these days. But, man I never feel better than the times I just give people the unedited story of my latest fuck up. And try to learn from it and move on. What do I have to lose? I don’t want to pretend my past doesn’t exist or that it doesn’t affect me, but I also don’t want it to run my life. I don’t need to run from it or pour Jack Daniels on it. I’m an adult (practically). I can fight back.

Shit happened to all of us when we were kids that fucked us up. Like I’ve said before we all suffer from the misfortune of having parents. And parents are human. And humans fuck each other up. But, for me…the more I write and the more I’m honest about the hard realities of my life, the better I feel about it all and the more I figure it out, or more accurately the more I realize I will never figure it out. But, I pick up little pieces and pass out my story and if it helps someone, great. And if I get made fun of, so be it.

Other people’s writing…song lyrics especially…have a big impact on me. It’s those moments where someone else’s experiences overlap with mine that end up affecting me and helping me figure shit out. When I started this post, I had two song lyrics in mind, “We need words to be put to what we do not understand,” from “If I Wanted Someone” by Dawes. And “I’ll scream till I die or the last of those bad thoughts are finally out,” from the Avett Brothers “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise”.

They ended up not really having anything to do with this particular blog, but more with my writing in general. I need to keep screaming. I need to keep putting words together on these pages to keep trying to make sense of life. Cause, you know what? I don’t get it, but it's fine because I have a huge ab and dozens of dollars in the bank.