Hi God. It’s me again. Could I get a cheeseburger happy meal with a coke?

This week couldn’t get worse. It honestly couldn’t. Remember my old high school crush? He’s going out with this total bitch now apparently (I thought you didn’t “date”?!). In addition to that, we might not be going back east for my cousin’s wedding now. When I asked my mother how I could make it work, she eventually came out that she didn’t feel comfortable with her sisters anymore. Eventually, she admitted that it might not even be because of her sisters, it may be because she is depressed and has been for a while. I told her to join the club because I’m pretty sure I’ve been in denial about my depression for the past year. So there we sat… two depressed women… and then my sister came up with her waah-I-have-cramps-and-I-can’t-focus-on-my-homework-I’m-depressed. Eventually we got rid of her and then my mum says…
“At least you’re going somewhere in life, I’m stuck here”
Which made me ponder the status of her dead end marriage with my asshole father and her crappy job. And then I said…
“I have it worse”
And she kind of looked at me like I was crazy even argue with that (chill out at least I didn’t quote the scripture or anything) and I kind of explained it.
“You have faith”
I don’t mean faith like faith that everything will get better, I mean faith as in god.
I’m not too sure if I’ve said this before but I don’t believe in god. That’s not the problem, see. I don’t believe in god… or the afterlife… or karma… or anything spiritual.
I don’t even want to get started on the afterlife because if my family dies, I will never see them again. Ever. That’s it, it’s over. No more bantering with my sister… no more hugs from my mom… no more of me talking about this because it is going to make me cry.
Do you know what it’s like to believe that there is nothing to your existence? Wait, cut that. Do you know what it’s like to believe that there is nothing to your existence and you really really wish there was?
Because that’s me and it kills me that I’m not that happy, care free teenager anymore. The one who thought she was going to marry her crush, that she was going to lose 30 pounds, that she would become famous for some kind of obscure talent and that eventually everything would work out and she would be happy.
See happy is a word that is almost synonymous with religion. Religious people are happier, that’s a scientific fact. But religious people have faith that they will be happy one day.
I don’t have this anymore. If my life is what I make of it,
I am fucked.
I’ll never be happy.
And I really wish I could believe in some kind of something. I’m pretty sure that’s what I want even more than being skinny.
Because if I have faith, I’ll have the hope of eventually becoming skinny.
Faith is easier than working for something. I’m not too good at working for anything.
And I don’t want to come back to the afterlife again.
I’m sick of having panic attacks in the middle of the night.
Life should not be like this. Not for me. It’s okay for people who don’t care where we go to when we die but I do care. I care a lot. I don’t want to read up on death and feel depressed. I don’t want to feel depressed, period.
I want this eternal life where we all live happily forever and no one dies. We eventually get whatever we want and we never want any more than that. And we’ll always have faith that we will some day be happy.
So God, Pope Benedict XVI, Dalai Lama, Russell Peters… if any one of you have a solution to this problem of mine, speak now.
P.S. If anyone comments on this and tells me to accept Christ as my saviour, just so you know, I will hunt you down and kill you. Remember, I don’t believe in hell.

The guy that makes me want to laugh/cry/die?

I ran across his picture today on Facebook. One of our “mutual friends” has a picture with him and I felt like my heart ripped out.
The title of this post was going to be men. But then it’s not really because it’s going to be just about one man… boy. I don’t know, when do they stop being boys and turn into men? So this is about him, he, the guy.
I don’t remember whether I’ve mentioned the story before but he is my high school crush. Yes, it’s been almost three years since grad, I know. I haven’t seen him for a year, I know. He isn’t interested anymore, if he ever was, I know. But I can’t stop thinking about him.
Here’s the thirty second bunny version: junior high bully has a crush on the nerdy girl, he bullies her, she hates him, he tells her he likes her, she tells him she hates him, he tells her he hates her. They go to high school and suddenly the idiot nerd decides that he’s the perfect guy for her. Pretty soon, he’s the big man in high school and is becoming hotter and hotter rapidly garnering lots of attention from teenage hoes. They don’t talk till the twelfth grade even though they spend all of high school exchanging glares/stares. They party together prom weekend. He vanishes for a year and then shows up at a party, seems surprised that nerdy girl isn’t nerdy anymore. Spends most if the time trying to talk to her while she nervously refuses to meet his eyes. Two months later, he rejects her myspace friend invite. He is not interested.
So fuck well then…
What do I do.
Why do I still like him? No matter what, I keep coming back to this guy and I don’t want to because he is out of my league (I know I say stuff like that often but this is the real deal, if his league was the pacific ocean, mine would be the traces of H2O particles left on Mars).
I’ve gotten over him before. With difficulty. Many times. But he has always been my number one. The one that won’t go away.
That scares the shit out of me because I’m afraid that I will do anything for a shot at him. It’s just not healthy. I don’t trust myself at all with him and I don’t understand why I’m this obsessed.
It’s killing me. I can usually distance myself from my feelings easily but he keeps creeping back.
It makes you wish for that memory erasing machine in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
He is ruining everything. He has given me this cookie cutter model of what I want and I’m pretty much not interested on anyone who isn’t close to that model. I have such high standards, it’s just sad.
So I don’t know what to do now. Someone tell me because I don’t know. So frustrated right now.

Bargaining with God

Back when I used to believe in god, I used to bargain with him.
I think this may have been part of the OCD I was experiencing. I’ve made passing comments about my OCD but I’ve never really explained what happened. When I was about 13, I started an obsession with germs and was slightly preoccupied with counting and making sure things were even. This peaked during high school and has slowly dissipated to the form it takes now- being mildly grossed out with germs (and public places such as toilets, transit etc).
I think my bargains may have been part of that.
When I was in high school, I was (what I thought was) in love with him, and was convinced that if I lost enough weight, he’d want me. This lead to my little bargains with God. They started out innocently and I used them for motivation. Like, if I made it to 400 calories on the elliptical trainer, God would make him smile at me. Then these bargains started getting bigger… if I skipped dinner, God would make him think I was hot. If I made it to a size 10, God would make him love me. It was some sort of karmic negotiation which progressed because by some sort of coincidence, eventually, I’d get what I want. An extra 100 calories on the treadmill resulted in a stare from him half a week later and I was naive enough to chalk that up to my hard work at the gym. This kept going until I stopped believing in God.
A few weeks ago, I was reading the Anne of Green Gables series (which I haven’t reread since I was 13) and I was captured by Rilla of Ingleside and a chapter where Rilla makes bargains with God in order to get what she wants. The events of the chapter concluded in her realizing that you can’t bargain with God and that he gives you things because he loves you, not because you trade for them.
I thought it was an interesting note. I can’t believe I was ever that short-sighted

Mirror mirror on the wall

This depression is getting ridiculous.
It all brings me back to the fact that He had once humiliated me and how I am ever going to make him take it back. How do I do it? My fucked up logic tells me to lose weight.
In my head, if I’m skinny, I’ll have everything.
I’ll have him.
If not that…
I’ll be able to find an equally hot, rich, sweet guy.
I’ll be able to work at a high end resteraunt and make a ton of tips.
I’ll have attention from a lit of guys.
I’ll have the satisfaction of being equal to my beautiful friends and sister and more beautiful than my old friends and cousins.
I’ll have everything I want if I lose weight.
But I can’t, because I’m weak. I eat too much and I can’t stop myself.
When I overcome my weakness, I’ll be able to get skinny. But then my new inner strength will get me confidence, a man, a good job. I don’t really need to lose weight. Well, I do. But something I need more than that.
If I had will power, I could have anything I wanted. I could have the world.

Lost in your ocean

I saw Him yesterday at a party of some sorts. He didn’t see me. I told myself I would go around following him but I subconciously did. At least I didn’t do anything stupid. My heart didn’t start thumping.
I have totally confused myself. I don’t know what I want anymore! Well, I do. I want him. But I’m not as crazy as I used to be. Maybe I am. Maybe I just don’t see him often enough.
I’ve felt like crying all day today. I need to knock myself out of him.
Sometimes I think I love him just because I have no other options. If I don’t love him, I’ll have to face the fact that no one else will have me.