Don't tell me about God.

Long time no post, nonexistent friends-- I've been busy and lazy by turns. Nothing has turned me on enough to make me jump up on the soapbox, though a lot of things have happened.

But today I got my order of post-bariatric success psychology self-help books, and now I'm mad as a wet hen. So prepare for one mother of a rant:

Where the HELL do these authors get off assuming that I'm fat because my relationship with God is busted and if I want to fix it, one of the biggest things I have to do is go back to God?! These preachy proselytizing biddies can take their "Go Back to God and All Your Spiritual Issues will be FIXED" message, and they can cram it, ram it, rotate it, and drive it straight up the good ol' hershey road.

NEWS FOR THESE PEOPLE: They're telling people to use God as a CRUTCH. That's right, a crutch. An evasion of self-responsibility. A big fat shiny placebo that does FUCK-ALL FOR ANYBODY.

I'll tell you one thing: I'm not going back to a one-sided, neglect-based relationship with a nonexistent spiritual partner who is a fabrication of the human mind with next to no relationship to anything that's actually divine, just because some damn holier-than-thou person who managed to crib her way to a PhD at a podunk for-shit school says I have to. And she can blame me being fat for me choosing to leave the Christian religion all she'd like; I'm NOT buying the manipulation.

While I do try to follow the teachings of Christ, that doesn't mean I have to believe in the whole figurative Santa Claus bit and all the dogmatic, oppressive, HATE-based, FEAR-based BULLSHIT that goes along with Christianity per se. As if declaring that I'm all saved and born again and renewed and holy and right with God would do fuck-all for my spirituality! It sure hasn't done SHIT for all the so-called righteous Christians out there who would cheerfully guthole anybody who didn't share all their moral views. It just gives them another kind of mask to hide behind-- from everybody, INCLUDING THEMSELVES.

ARGH. I am so damn mad I could spit sulfuric acid. If God gave a shit about me being fat, he would have helped me when I was still a teenager and I prayed desperately for help with my weight. With that, as with anything else I've swallowed the "just take it to God!" "Trust God with your problems!" "God will heal/fix/help you!" bullshit for, I GOT NO HELP.

This proverb is the best thing I can say about God: THERE MAY BE FAIRIES, THERE MAY BE ELVES, BUT THE LORD HELPS THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES. Because guess what: he isn't actually OUT there burning up with eagerness to help people who believe in him. HE ISN'T OUT THERE AT ALL, and if you wait for him to take care of you, you are shit. out. of. luck.

It all boils down to this: you're all you've got, and you have to help yourself, for yourself because no damn imaginary bullshit entity based on people's fear and denial about dying is going to do it for you.