I'm tired of pithy sayings.

A good friend of mine said that God only lets us get as much as we can handle. I strongly disagree. I'm tired of arguing with her. Not that we have been arguing. One can't argue with someone who refuses to engage in reality, preferring to maintain delusions about a best friend named Jesus.

Thing is, I've been considering going back to it all. I almost want the delusion. I want the dreams. I want the comfort.

I'm sick and my grandmother is sick and everyone I know is crazy. There. I said it. It's out there.

I'm fucking tired, sick and tired, of life. I gave up on God because after 5 years of prayers, 5 years of dutiful Bible study, 5 years of giving up everything I liked doing...He didn't heal me or my family. We're all still sick and fucked up.

WHERE IS GOD? WHERE THE FUCK IS HE? WHERE THE FUCK WAS HE WHEN I NEEDED HIM?

Oh. Yeah. Free will blah blah blah. That explains his non-intervention in my life.

This same Christian friend, she tells me that God never gives anyone more than they can handle. No one ever gets more than they bargained for. Oh sure, life is not fair but guess what? You're lucky that you were born in America. You're lucky that you can walk.

She says “Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it." Quoting some quotable quote, trying to talk to me about life.

Yeah, that friend. That friend that I can't hate, don't want to hate. That friend that I share so much with, that I care so much about. My only friend from my Christian days that I still associate with. She's pregnant with her first child and I try so hard to be a friend. Only I can't. I debate everything with her.

I hate that she is risking her life and her child's life by having a homebirth attending by a quack-ass midwife and her high school aged apprentice and her husband. I hate that she hasn't had an ultrasound, or any blood tests, or sonograms, or anything. I hate that she is so calm and cavalier about it all. I hate that she says that her reasons for doing all of this are scientific, sensible, logical. I hate that she has the nerve to attempt to debate with me, when she doesn't live in the world of reality, of real people who have suffered and died.

Most of all I hate that our lives have many strange parallels. We both fell in love at 19. My relationship resulted in a 4 year shitfest of physical and mental abuse with a cheating partner. Hers in a marriage to a guy who adores her. We both were offered opportunities to start successful careers at 21. I wasn't able to take mine due to having to care for ill family members. She was able to utilize hers and now she owns her business, has bought a house (paid in cash), and put her husband through school, all without debt. I wanted children, a family, blah blah blah (despite a lot of the things I say and my sexuality, I remain open to the possibility) and I can't have them due to my health. She was always ambivalent about having a family, talked so much shit about how she wasn't a kid person, didn't like babies, would be ok if her and husband couldn't have kids...and now she's expecting.

For awhile, I assumed that I was merely envious of her and did my best to work through it. Then I realized this is not envy. This is sorrow. Sorrow for the life I wanted, sorrow for the loss of the opportunities in my life, sorrow for the relationship that I left behind so long ago. I don't want to get back with my former partner. I don't want to take the job that I passed up so many years ago. I don't want to be pissed off about the life I didn't get to have.

I just want for my friend to quit telling me about life when she's never lived it. Oh sure, she's had her struggles, I'm sure. But I don't need the lectures, the platitudes, the righteousness in regards to my own choiceso. I don't need her to tell me that Jesus is real, just as real as I am, that I'm the crazy one because I don't believe in the literal existence of a long-dead Jewish carpenter who can be your spiritual buddy ol' pal, the ideal best friend and boyfriend all in one. I don't need her telling me that life isn't fair, but it could be worse. I don't need, don't want it, but I want the friendship. I don't want to be alone in real life, spinning my wheels.

She says things won't change after she has the baby, but I want to shake her and tell her to get fucking real. Babies do change things, they change people, they change relationships. Some part of me wishes and hopes that she has to eat some bitter roots, so to speak. I hope that she has her eyes opened, the God shows her just how much of a self-righteous asshat she's been for most of the time I've known her. I want the God that she defends to the end to give her more than she can handle in some way.

I want her to choke on her lectures, I want her to understand how convoluted her alternative medicine, herbalistic, all-natural, crunchy-for-Christ bullshit is.

/rant over.