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A Good Christian Lesson

I’m ready to go to Walmart because I’ve gotten paid and needed to renew my phone plan. I wanted to go there because I had forgotten which was cheaper: buying a card, or calling. Because of Tennessean  taxes, calling is indeed cheaper (by two dollars) and hopefully I’ll remember, or read this. Or remember to read this.

At the bus stop, there is a lady, who says hello and starts a conversation. She’s very pretty, black, has a jug of water for health and looks to be about my age.

eager spongebob

I surmise she was one of the friendly missed treasures from my campus. Although I plan to transfer, I still wanted to talk to people I could meet with this last week of school coming up. Verily, it was rare to get anyone to talk anywhere at this school (or maybe that’s the world now, I don’t know. It’s all very disappointing).

Interested, I began to scan over her being and I espy a Bible, bookmarked, in her purse.

jennifer lawrence disappointed gifThere’s very few reasons one would talk to a stranger this day and age. It’s easier to guess between those of the opposite sex, or two of the same sex and one of them is a bit more obvious  or flamboyant (am I too strong now?). Even though I could pass as obvious, what with kids mistaking me for a guy at our town festival, I didn’t think I was obvious enough for a lady like her.

But now all was clear and I waited for the starting blow. I had prepared myself beforehand by promising, swearing to myself that I will simply say I’m atheist and deal with the aftermath (Why must I be conflicted about this? For a lot of so-called ‘believing in nothing’, am I so fearful of the Christian calumny that I can’t admit what I’m comfortable with? How long will this last?)

The bus comes and she sits facing the middle and I go way in the back to face the front, for I get terribly carsick otherwise. We were far enough away that I thought our conversation was cut short- all the better for me!

That wasn’t so. We continue with our idle chitchat and she slowly digs in. I tell her about my family, at her request. And I tell her about my future plans, at her request. I even tell her what I study and wish to do with my education, at her request. Her tone of voice and cocked head makes it plainer and plainer that she intends something bigger than all of this, excuse my phrasing, and I’m getting tired of the slow panning.

I then recognize the man next to me. He’s a half-black half-Korean man who was about to join the army the last I seen him. I ask him about that, cutting off my conversation with the lady. He answers in an unintelligible tirade, but I did manage to piece out that he, in fact, could not join the army. He apologizes for his rant and cursing, saying he is a Christian (exact words) and should act like it. He also says that he will instead go to Florida and work in his father’s club.

That’s when the lady intervenes and asks him how will he stay out of trouble.

bird binoculars

“Stay out of trouble?” he answers clearly. And he gives the much better looking lady a once-over, and double-takes on the Bible. The deflation is nearly audible. They proceed a back-and-forth over how can you drink and dance and be merry and Christian, while the fellow says he can drink and dance and be merry and be Christian and will judge no one who does the same. They talk about the Bible and what it says and he talks about how even Jesus drunk wine and wine is alcohol and she attempted to tell him what the true meaning of wine is, something about the blood of Jesus and all that.

I hope they demolish each other. The guy’s friend, another lady on the other side of our row, looks out the window after saying a few things (and was on the guy’s side- specifically, “No one should judge”). She gives up and gets off the bus later.

And the argument continues and we’re nearer Walmart and I thought I would be home free.

The guy tries to get me on his side, asking me to ‘explain’ his words to her, unknowing that I cannot understand his mumbling any better than a snail.

binoculars OFF

I attempt to tell him to talk louder because I can’t understand him either but I’m not altogether confident that wouldn’t sound bad. Eventually, he gets frustrated with us both and goes all the way to the front of the bus.

No, don’t leave me with her!!!

“Are you born-again?”

“No, I’m an atheist.”

It comes out so much more clearly than I thought it would, and I relax. There wasn’t much she could say on the bus that would change my mind anyway, and she didn’t peg me at all as a Sophisticated Theologian (TM Jerry Coyne of Why Evolution is True) that would do some fancy wordwork. Then I thought, perhaps I’m being too harsh. I should give her a chance, to just speak and not try to end the conversation before it begins.

She then becomes that stereotypical Christian, breathing all those banal platitudes which perhaps at one time were rhetorical masterpieces but are now as titillating as a chewed bone.

I did say some things that were surprising to her, for she would look confused for just a moment, and so I would wait for her to come up with a reply.

smug Asian guy cute

For example, I tell her that no god has given me reason to believe in it. I’ve been trying to be careful of signaling out the Christian god. That makes believers think they have a chance, and that much more annoying. When you’re more general, and truthful, it pretty much makes them think how far back they need to go.

Oh, wait, lemme tell ya how she asked the question to this answer: “Why are you atheist?”

That is the weirdest and, honestly, most terrible question to ask. Because, in her slow, higher-pitched, condescending speech, she already has an answer for her own question formed in her head. To which she has the platitudes to counter with.

There are few reasons to be atheist. Don’t like or care for religion, organized or otherwise, and therefore find little reason to practice or there’s no evidence. Never is it hatred of some god or another because that would imply that that god or another exists, which they don’t.  If you’re ‘atheist’ and hate god personally, you’re going to have to reexamine the definition.

Wanna hear some banal reiterations?

“Just because you don’t believe in Jesus, Jesus believes in you.”

“Do you believe in the wind”-“Yes.”-“Why?”-“I can feel it.”-“You can…You can feel it?”-“Yea…”

“I have a personal relationship with God.” (x100)

“I’ve personally heard God tell me (etc.).” (xliterally4)

“You’re going to go to hell.” (xliterally3, earning a total of three thinned lips)

She told me towards the end that there were some lines in Romans that described me perfectly, written hundreds of years before I existed. I told her that there have been billions of unbelievers like me, including up to and before the time Romans was written. I’m certain that there is something that ‘describes me perfectly’.

Then I told her to not bother, because I don’t hold the Bible to the same standards as she did, and she offered it once more before saying that, if I was curious, I should look, and I’ll probably be pleasantly surprised.

shrug gif

I doubt it.

But that’s not the end folks.

She said that I seem like a pleasant, cheerful, happy girl (I was), and she had the gall to tell  me, “But that’s because you think you will live a long life, but truly this is short and you’ll go on to live a life of eternal damnation”. And she had that smile that’s like, “Sorry, you’re SOL until you love Jesus and speak about him on buses!”

And she said it was nice talking to me and that she hopes I would think about what she said (this probably wasn’t what she had in mind). So I put on my headphones (didn’t turn them on though) and she looks forward for the rest of the ride. I hope she doesn’t start talking to me again. Her faithfully confident but actually arrogant attitude had worn my patience into slices of paper.

When the  bus arrived at Wallyworld, I waved an awkward good-bye (I would meet her twice later on that day in the strip mall), I came across trucks and vans with “I am Christian County” on the license plate and pictures of Jesus everywhere. Also, the song “Silent Night” by The Temptations were playing on my iPod, and had been playing when I first talked to her at the bus stop.

I began to think of supernatural implications. What if this was god now telling me to think. Telling me to renew my cerebration on Jesus and Christianity, what if I’m all wrong?

What if there is an atheist Jewish man in Jeruselum, how does he feel? An atheist woman in Turkey? Wouldn’t they all feel the same? Still, the thoughts lingered.

I eventually return to my dorm and am ready to reveal to a flatmate that her might be boyfriend may be cheating on her big time. I had been waiting because I was nervous *blush*. I gave this boyfriend the benefit of the doubt because I knew he saw himself as a Christian of the straight-and-narrow type, who was weary-ish of gays and thought to have a lot of kids eventually, who had Bible studies (with females) and liked to talk about the Bible and biblical goals (with females).

side eye blanche gif

Which seemed a bit iffy before, but now makes complete sense. I told this flatmate’s best friend and asked beforehand whether or not the two were dating. This best friend  said, “That’s none of my business.”

Santana confused

Let me clarify that they (my flatmates, who are also roommates who are also best friends) aren’t exactly cool with me for some odd reason. They have bipolar disorder and they aren’t super hopeful/super pessimistic bipolar like me. They are like ‘I love me and my own’/I hate the whole world bipolar. So when they are in good moods, they tolerate me barely and love each other, and bad moods make them hate me. Yesterday, we ran out of toilet paper, and I heard them outside my window, “Let’s keep the toilet paper and paper towels in our room.” Also, whenever they see me with my door open and they finally deign to reveal their room to me, they close the door or pretend not to see me.

All that to point out that there is NO WAY that whether or not that lady (BFF1) is still dating her boyfriend is not any of her best friend’s (BFF2) business. Y’all ain’t talkin’ ’bout pies over there. Or majors (one is art, the other is nursing). Maybe games, but not really.

Anyway, I tell her (BFF2) that her best friend (BFF1) whose business is not hers might have a boyfriend who is cheating on her. That he solicited the sex of another resident (exact words, “I would like to pleasure you orally”) even to the point of doing it on the sly (exact words, “Do you have a boyfriend? Are you really that faithful to him?”). Of course, this unknown lady refused but decided to tell me because she thought it was amusing to me. And it was, sort of.

BFF1 actually does tell BFF2 and BFF2 asks for more clarification because that ex-boyfriend WAS STILL TRYING TO GET BACK WITH HER.

Did I mention he carries a Bible around?

dont care gif

BFF2 was grateful for the info. They now lock the door to the dorm, because he’s used to just walking in.

I think she has told him everything in a discreet manner, but he’s sending her messages to get her to come back to him (WTF?!). Or talk to him in person or (I heard through the door) none of it was a big deal.

In any case, all that drag with Christianity went into the winds. Whatever god(s) that may be trying to get my attention must not be Christian, and simply has my humor for the ironies of the world.

My Bipolar Disorder, Not YOURS

You’ve probably heard the phrase “You won’t really know what it feels like until you experience it” and, oddly, it usually comes about to a person who obviously hasn’t experienced it and has absolutely no understanding of it.

Like when a person of favorable size says around of person of generally unfavorable size, “Sometimes I feel so big. You shouldn’t worry about what other people say about you. You look great how you are.” As you may be aware, favorably sized person has pretty much used bigness as a benchmark of ‘lowness’ in her life. And even if one doesn’t know it consciously, just like this person doesn’t really know what it feels like to be big, a person of generally unfavorable size (or some other unfavorable attribute) can definitely feel the somewhat insulting feeling towards people of their size.

Or someone with Crohn’s reveals that fact- and some person says, “Oh, one time I had food poisoning- and it was the worst thing ever!” I’ve actually… *ahem* roomed with someone with the disease and three people- no joke, my friends- went on about some stomach bug or another. Sure food poisoning and sickness is horrible, but trying to relate to a person’s lifelong disease by referencing a nigh incomparable illness just shows how ignorant you really are.

Cute

Of course, I’m not immune to such antics either, though when I recall such instances I don’t think myself cute at all. I do, however, find it cute when I’m the object of  said antics.

So, I have bipolar disorder. When I first realized it fully, I began to notice that it’s not just me being calm and sweet to being depressed- because I knew for certain what that shit felt like, and was quite aware when I was dragging myself through it. No, it wasn’t normal wavelength to flatlining through sludge.

There’s something else. It’s not  ‘angry mode’. I’ve found the most common dichotomy of bipolarity in popular media (including cartoons, especially anime) is Calm/Happy and Psychotic/Angry.

No, my coin has FUCKING ECSTATIC on one side and DEATHLY DEPRESSION on the other. Often, I’m running along the narrow rim of normality, bumping over annoying people and small disappoints and the like before teetering on one side, losing balance, rolling down the wide diameter of one side then a slight rim job and then to the other side until something makes it all stop- a bottle of pills or a really good book or a long walk at 3AM.

Feels

What I’ve come up against the most is “Well, everyone has their off days.”

Now, that’s a completely true statement, but how can anyone tell me that after years of trying to stay on the rim, how can anyone even imply that I don’t know the difference between how I feel when I’m having an ‘off day’ or a ‘good day’ or depression and mania?

What bugs me the frickin’ most is that I begin to second-guess myself. My biggest clue that a majorly devastating depression is about to hit is when I begin to roll around in the euphoria-filled wonderland of mania. Mania now feels as recognizable to me as depression, but if I’ve heard that phrase recently I began to count off the good things that have happened to make me have a ‘happy day’.

And that’s how I felt today. I don’t remember who said something ignorant about bipolar disorder- it might have been someone’s post on Facebook or some shit- but I remembered the baseless sentiment and it stuck to me.

When I’m manic, I get the munchies, no weed needed. I’ve been eating constantly, but telling myself that I’ve just gotten off my period (even though I mostly get cravings before my period, and never after), and that I haven’t been eating as well as I should (which has also been true- but I’ve been eating better overall. Nothing as good as when I was eating nearly vegetarian at school, though),

When I’m manic I can’t concentrate. I’ve been multitasking in my free time for almost five days now, unable to spend good time with my sister (on anime or 642 and various other things) or anyone. Even on my computer, I check this, then this, then this, then this. And I’ve been telling myself that all of it is so very fun and no one would be able to stay on task, right?

When I’m manic, I get aroused easily. Now, I’m usually that way… But now I know it’s different, because I wake from sleep too aroused to lie down. I sit at the computer watching a youtube video or reading a comic, planning on going to bed in about half an hour and then BAM, I know I won’t be able to read or hear another word without relief.

When I’m manic, I go into panics over the stupidest things, and one not so stupid thing: I fully understand I’m manic now, and have been for nearly a week and this depression is going to be killer, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. That’s the not-so-stupid thing. Stupid things? Working at Denny’s yesterday, cutting tomatoes, and the way the tomato slices look- the shapes appear within:

Terrifying- But I realized that if the core is thick in the middle, I don't panic
Terrifying- But I realized that if the core is thick in the middle, I don’t panic

They got to be so scary that I stopped slicing tomatoes, diced them, and didn’t look back. The dark is too dark, and I can’t look anyone in the eye, it’s just too much!

I had to stop myself from screaming with delirious joy because we had Taco Bell downstairs, but I couldn’t keep the squeal away when my sister gave me her churro. I laugh out loud because the feeling in my chest is too much to contain, and I bite my arms to stifle the ants beneath my skin. And, hell, I’m too damn sore to do that again, though I can feel my body reeling with that energy.

I just hope I hit bottom within the next three days. I’m off from work. I haven’t been depressed for an extended period since January, and had mild manic attacks since then. But this… This is no ‘happy day’. I’ve been the same thing for fucking months. I’m doubting myself on going to a new school, on ever finding any lovers, of seeing my brother or any type of friend anytime soon, of ever truly liking my sister again or not thinking my dad is not worth talking to- but none of that bothers me at the moment.

But it will when I roll over to the other side, where I go so much more slowly…They won’t be simply ‘bad days’, they will all be the culmination of a goddamned depression  that I simply don’t want to deal with, especially when I’m so alone in it.

Lovely

How to Lose Everyone I Love, ASAP or Care Inapplicable

When I first started this blog, it was for a number of things I was writing because the sites I used didn’t allow too much discussion and I got the distinct impression that

Care Spongebob

At the same time I thought that, I believed I would never get anything like followers or fans or anything quite so fabulous. I’ve got a trickle that I’m grateful for, though I wouldn’t mind more, a lot more. But it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.

Care I lied
Haha, last pic for a bit, seriously

In any case, I definitely didn’t think I would ever connect this to my Facebook page and have taken some pains to not associate my real name with this page. I mean, when I rant about my Dad or about gay porn or about my bipolar disorder and all the stuff in between, it’s not something I had wanted read by my nearest and dearest.

Today I realized two things, though: this little blog gets more likes per ‘status’ than what I post on Facebook, and NOBODY CARES- at least there or, really, much here. And I honestly don’t care who cares here on WordPress since I doubt I’ll ever meet them in the streets.

This was pushed on me by a number of things, the main one being someone in this world seemed to be trying to confess to me, but I was under the distinct impression that we were incompatible, mainly for the fact that we hardly knew that much about each other, and I haven’t revealed many of my darkest thoughts that could make or break a relationship- any relationship. Another main thing is that I adore a bit of personal strife, and it’ll be nice, like a lot of strife that I’ve received, to tell a future somebody that nothing really happened.

But! You might be thinking, I might lose a lot of friends! Or, if you happen to scan through my pages, I’m going to lose everyone!

Frankly, I couldn’t care less. I’m just an incompatible person for them, and I refuse to hide for fear of what- losing people who thought very little of me? This is not to sound bitter or angry- it’s just the truth. It’s kind of like how I don’t care about what Romney is doing now or if Justin Bieber will ever make another song. It’ll be fine if Romney is having a lovely talk with Ann or Bieber is taking a hiatus, like people on my Facebook will be happy I’m alive- but that’s as far as anything goes. And nothing so far as to worry about it.

Just thinking about it… Like, I made very depressed statuses over the years on Facebook and some messaged me to take them down, and now that I think about it… Why did I listen? One of them was up for a weekend before anyone said anything (to take it down). At the time, I remember thinking how I didn’t want to be seen as depressed or needy or desperate, and not wanting to upset people or make them worry. However, as I contemplate, no one really gave a shit. And I shouldn’t have either. It would have been good to catalog my moods and see how I was feeling when and all those who thought I was mistaken making some real status instead of- MCDONALD’S IS THE SHIT!!!!

And no one will give a shit if a post on my blog is on my wall. One day, every one of my friends on Facebook will have seen this blog and a vast majority of them will ignore it and all statuses related to it. A few will defriend me and a couple will warn me of various things that will have no application to my life on whether I follow the warnings or not.

Care John Locke And what really makes this all amazing is that I’ve thought about this for soooo looooong. And nobody really cared for soooo loooooong. And, honestly, the only people that I would regret having find any of this out is some future employer. Not even my current one because, holy shitcakes, the managers know damn well everybody and literally their mama smokes hard as rocks. They probably just can’t afford to fire everyone.

I still won’t use my real name here, you know, so it makes it a bit harder for some employer to sneak a peek.

If you’ve read this far and wondering if I lost my mind, just think of this: How many of your friends’ pictures have you rifled completely through? I can name them on two hands- only two of them not family. How many friends’ pages do you check specifically to see if they have made a status? Probably none, right? How often do you go to another’s person page and click on things that they have- either their music or books, or their other friends? Riiiight.

I realized that I’m just a tiny speck in most people’s lives, at most a boulder to lean on for a fun, loving, trusting time.

Oh, another big reason I’m doing this. I wrote something I was really excited about and wanted to share more of. But the only things I could count on were Facebook and a couple of forums. My mind had immediately recoiled at the thought of Facebook before I was like, wait, why not? Nobody gives a shit really except me, and I am the universe for my mind’s eye and a marble for everyone else’s.

The World Ends With Me.