Sarah Nyhan

Changing the world isn’t the answer either. 

How many god-damned years did I waste thinking I could move the needle. Even a hair. Even an inch. It certainly wasn’t worth my whole life. I could have actually enjoyed myself. 

They keep you on the hamster wheel, the endless grind, by selling you this hustle culture, this democratic mind. 

But look at me. There’s not a damn thing I can do. Not a damn move I can make without permission. Without collusion.

Except try to enjoy myself. Try to find some dark humor in the absolute absurdity of it all.

You think another figurehead will do better. Maybe a different king, a different politician, a different czar, a different elected official, a different pastor, a different priest, a different Iman, a different leader. 

Corrupted, eventually bought. Eventually compromised. Or best-case scenario taken out before they can do much good. These gods of yours. These actors on the stage. The drama of our lives. Our survival.

We said, “No, thank You, God. Please give us someone, anyone other than You.”

Who do you run to now? Sweetcheeks, babycakes.

When the game stops being fun.
When things get a little too real.

When you start to feel.

A bit too cold for comfort.
A little more hunger than you’re used to.
And afraid there’s no one you can truly trust.

Alone.

In a sea of suffering. As far as the eyes can see. The ears can hear. And then several more millennia. Oceans upon oceans of cries.

Endless people to rescue with your intellectual prowess. You – who has all the answers. All the strength.

Exactly how many little children can you save?
How many can you protect?
How many can you provide for?
How many can you meet their needs?

Even one?

Even yourself?

I’ll wait. 

After all, I wasted so much already.
All I have is time. 
All I have is my face to haunt me.

To remind me of dream after dream after dream.

We were really going to do something. 
We thought making a name for ourselves would matter somehow. That it would make us more than just a giant target for the crabs in the bucket.

Anything but God.
That’s what their actions say.
Even if they sing hymns, sing praise & worship twenty-four hours a day.

Listen to the lyrics.
God as just fire insurance.
Until then… everything depends on us.

On me.

For my castles.
That require endless upkeep.

You see glory.
I see guts.

I see so much muscle. LABOR.
A bottomless pit of expenses.

For what?!
For whose approval?

What is the actual point?

It couldn’t be simple.
Could it?

Not after ALL our striving. 
It would be too easy if it wasn’t complicated. 

Right?

We wouldn’t dare just let go.

Not dare let the following generation off the hook. That would be the worse.

Such an affront to all we lost.

All we could have experienced.
All we slaved away for this whole time.

Just to do an about face.

We couldn’t dare look at God now.

Who would ever have the absolute gall to give up?!

To risk being taken care of.
To see if there is anything to this Trust.
If real Faith exists.

If grace and mercy actually are new.
Every morning.
For all mournings.

Does God really care?
About me?
About you?

I can’t fix shit.
Especially this shit.
And I’m done trying.

I give up.

I’m going to forgive myself for thinking I could.

And I’m not killing myself anymore.

Either I have a heavenly Father for real. Or this has been a miserable ass existence for the most part. That I don’t remember signing up for. And apparently took way too seriously. 

Y’all can have the rest of the intensity.
Y’all can keep all that striving.
All that crying.
All that dying.

Not me anymore.
I never had it to give in the first place. 
Despite all they said.
All they convinced me.

We ain’t drinking no mo’ Kool-Aid over here, folks.

We gonna scrounge up the best we can to make do. And that’s it. Actually enjoy the rest of this ride. See what there is left to see. Do what there is left to do. And let whatever be. As much as I get to choose.

I’m either God’s kid or I’m not.
Trinity either cares or we’re cooked.
That’s it.

Either way it’s way above my pay grade. 

This world done kicked the shit outta me.
And I finally know my place. 

How’s that for a theology?

Even all the prayers in the world. Nope. Done.

There. Have it all. Knock yourself out.
Be the martyr they canonize.
Your ego boosted so, so high.

While I go get whatever happiness and enjoyment is left.

No matter what.
No matter who.

It’s not that other women hated you.
It’s that your mother hated you.

And you never really faced that full on.

Of course. 
Because it wasn’t safe to. 
For the longest.
The hardest thing. 

You were never safe. 
Ever.

You never decided to be strong. 
You were just forced to figure out how to survive. 
You didn’t even have the luxury to die.

There comes a point where you have to do the hard work of choosing yourself over everyone else. For once. Even though nobody else ever did.

Or you are going to turn into them. You are going to start hurting people like they did. Out of decades of pain they taught you how to stuff down.

You’re not happy anymore.
Anyone who has a modicum of health can tell.

By the way you act as you push everyone away who dares to get anywhere close to all the walls you built to fortify yourself. Against feeling. Anything at all.

Except forward. 

I tried it also.
To outrun… everything.

Turns out I am only human.
Uninterestingly regular.
Just like everyone else.

There was actually no greater purpose for I was put through. It was just completely shit.

Quite disappointing.

But that’s gotta somehow in the end be okay.
Or there’s no hope.

What SHOULD I do?

No, what do I WANT to do.
That’s all I have left.

And what I won’t do is waste another fifty years trying to convince or change anyone else ever again at my own expense.

When I finally realized they always knew better. They were just really committed to playing dumb in order to keep me dancing on the end of that damn chain. Forever. Without a concern in the world that it cost me EVERYTHING. 

Some people are actually like that.

I was so married to delusion. So hell-bent on never giving up. Because that was all they ever gave me. All I ever was told and sold: endless dreams. 

To keep me running. 
Keep me working for them. 
Slaving on.
Without the foresight to ever start living my own Life.
It never even occurred to me.

Until that day, that one day. 
Where you’ve given them DECADES. 
And then they can’t even show up for you for 24 hours. When you really need them. 

That’s what it takes sometimes. 
For some of us to wake up.
To see what’s been going on the whole damn time.

I am SO glad I lost my religion.
God let it go.
So I could finally find myself.

It feels like I have already died a thousand times. Over my whole damn life. That’s why I am not afraid to lose you anymore.

When I realized you were never really there.
You were always gone.
So long ago.

You just kept me around as long as I let you use me.

You drained me.
Then discarded me.
Like trash.

That’s the part right there. 
That we’ve been trying to rush past.
This whole time.

Those two words: like trash.
Less than ten letters.
To sum up a world, a lifetime of hurt.

When you don’t even know how to care for yourself.
When you gotta learn, gotta teach yourself.
Gotta figure it out.
Because nobody else will.

Nobody taught you.
Not like how it was supposed to be.

Oh you got other people.
For sure.
As much as a person could reasonably be expected to. 

But nobody has you.
Not like you do for them.

Run, run, run child.
Keep running, keep running.

Right?

How’s that worked so far?

Maybe next time you’ll get it right.
Maybe next time you’ll figure out how to keep them…

Can’t you see?
They can never let you win.
They can never give in.

Because then they’d lose you. 
Taking care of them.
Above all else.

Even yourself.

And yes, that shit is sad as fuck.
As long as it has been.
Too long.
Maddening.

Especially when you now see you really got no one to even sit with in the realization of this shit. It’s still all and only you. Alone.

My fears found me.
And it’s true:
Everything was as bad as I thought.
Even worse.

So…
Is that it?
Is that all?

Is there not anything left?
Can I never expect anything more?
Is it all just destiny?

This is where your theology, and mine, matters the most. Maybe.

Can you actually walk away? With any guarantee that a better life will be there on the other side?

And what if walking away is only half the answer?
What if walking away is only the first step?

What if this thing you do now, that feels like climbing Mount Everest alone, is only the first step? 

What if the “good news” is that from this day forward you will have to show up for yourself again. And again. And again. And again. Day after day after day after day. Hour after hour. Sometimes minute by minute. 

In order to have a Life you actually Love. A Life where you aren’t waking up every morning constantly disappointed that it’s not yet over.

People like us. 
We can’t even fathom that.
We don’t even have a frame of reference.

That it’s possible for us.

But that’s why anyone’s happiness bothers you so much. That’s why you are tempted to hate them.

It’s easier to look down on them. From your intellectual high horse. It’s easier to dismiss them as stupid. Not smart. Despise them for being so lucky as to never have to face the “real” world.

Maybe the “real” world was just others never showing up for you. 

Could it be so simple as to let yourself want more and actually choose differently? 

What if God didn’t ever remove the person, remove the pain because it is really important that you learn to finally choose yourself? Finally give to yourself what you always give away for free to everyone else?

Could God be that good?
Would your theology ever allow it?

Or are you just here in service of others egos?

Maybe the music never died.
Maybe they just convinced you to stop singing.

Run little grrrl, run.
Like what’s left of your Life depends on it.

I thought I wanted you. I thought I wanted you to want me. But after years of going back and forth, I realize I dodged more than a few bullets when we parted ways.

It’s difficult to admit because my ego was so involved. And maybe more so my years of trauma that may never be resolved.

But now I see that I didn’t really want you. I just wanted how you made me feel. In the good times. Before the bad times outweighed the whole deal.

I think a lot of people do this. Unknowingly mostly.

We don’t really want to stop eating our comfort foods. We just want the acceptance of others that we’re sold we’ll get if we make ourselves smaller.

We don’t really want to work in corporate hell. The obtrusive hum of fluorescent lighting in a soulless cubicle. Stuffing our faces with high-fat snacks from the vending machine just to face powering through pretending to care in yet another meeting where people try to offload the emotional labor of making decisions. So they won’t feel as responsible later if shit hits the fan. Just make the decision, Karen.

Not that all corporate work is bad. But the majority is running the gauntlet of executives not having the balls to eliminate that person or people who make everyone else’s life miserable. Until the whole place is a cancerous fuck. Because nobody can tell entitled Eric or spoiled Sally that they need to grow the fuck up.

No, I just wanted the money. And I was told that was the only way.

You don’t care about my happiness. You never check up on me for that. Ever.

You just want me to have money so I can give it to you later. You just talk to me so I will take care of you if you can’t take care of yourself later.

I have to admit to myself that you really don’t care. Not enough for me. Not the caring I need. And maybe you never did.

I have to ask myself the hard questions. I have to be honest with myself. Something you NEVER do. Because it was taught that way to you also.

But I can’t feel so sorry for you that I join you on that path. Because you SURELY have proven you will NEVER take care of me. You will NEVER do for me what you expect me to do for you. EVER.

That is selfish. Even if in ignorance. And how can I be expected to sacrifice my whole life just to ensure you live comfortably in your continued delusions all the rest of your wasted days?!

That’s what you ask of me?! That I quite literally lose what’s left of my life just because you refuse to live yours?

That’s too high a price to pay. For so little in return. And it’s BEEN this way for so long. It’s not like I don’t have a wealth of data to go on.

I can’t join you in that. I’m precious also.

I have to trust you to God. In order to tell you no and move on. If you never get it together. God’s my only hope for you. And God’s got a pretty good track record. So I probably should have backed off long before anyway.

My job is just to enjoy what’s left of this stupid life. Of my miserable stupid life.

My job is to not take this insanity too seriously. My job is to not stress in the face of so much evil. Not to let it kill me. Or at least take me out long before the physical does me in.

As in maybe there’s a laugh to be had today. Maybe there’s a dumb reason to smile. Maybe we can joke about being too fat to do OnlyFans. So we might as well have another taco. Enjoy that damn salsa. Say fuck it and do some intellectual volleying with a friend. At least a friend for that moment. Even if life will inevitably get to them most likely. Get them out of their best. Maybe even to my detriment eventually.

But today. This moment. That’s all we really have. That’s all we get.

And you’re going to spend it worrying about some political shit you have absolutely zero control over?!?!

They want you to think that by stressing yourself out and working yourself every waking hour that you can move the dial. You can’t by playing their game. You’d only get far by them letting you through their disdain of your existence.

To even think of you is labor they loathe. One flick of the pinky finger. One press of a button and you’re gone forever.

That’s fuck you money they got in spades. In loads. So en masse that you’re not even a toy worth playing with. You’re a gnat. Eliminated as practice. Not even an afterthought.

No, you haven’t REALLY done the math to think playing their game is a good or even realistic idea. That’s why you keep losing.

But that’s also my super power: that you’ve taken everything away from me. That I am now comfortable in having so little. Being given absolutely nothing but endless problems.

Because now I can walk away when you can’t. You think that tower of stuff you’ve built up for yourself is somehow your worth on display. But in a crisis it’s all just golden handcuffs.

You’re not free like me. Not really.

Not the kind of free… that leaves me able to choose what I really want. That leaves me free to actually enjoy this day. To let it all go. To walk away if I need to. To pursue another adventure and see if there’s anything new to pursue.

It’s not that I am better. It’s just whatever makes you happy.

That’s my responsibility. To be accountable for whether I actually get to the point. Actually did the things I wanted to do.

Or just went along to get along. All to and then blame everyone else. And make their lives miserable because I hate mine.

No thank you. Call me crazy, call me ungrateful, call me too picky, call me ironically irresponsible – but no. No thank you if that’s what being accepted by you requires.

This is where your true beliefs, your true theology is exposed. You can sing “Jesus Loves me” all day long but you don’t REALLY believe.

Maybe for others, but not for yourself. You made deals with a lot of devils because you don’t really believe Father God wants to give you the true desires of your heart. Your earthly dad didn’t come through, he didn’t show up. So why would Creator God?

And yet, can’t you see? Your whole life – God refuses to conspire with you to settle for so little.

You’re not happy because this isn’t what you really want. And God refuses to give up on you no matter how hard you try to settle. Try to convince yourself to just sit down, shut up, and play nice for at least a few crumbs.

I forgot who I was.
I was so long in the trenches of shit they gave me that I forgot who I was and what I wanted.

I forgot to dream. I started to resent being asked to hope.

It’s all okay. None of it matters so much that you’re not allowed to try new stuff, new ways. And make “mistakes”.

None of this stuff, or okay – a lot of this stuff isn’t even real. Politics isn’t a real thing. Neither is most of religion.

It’s just hurt kids trying in vain to control outcomes in order to avoid pain.

Money also. It doesn’t even exist. It’s just paper that people attribute value to. It’s literal tree pulp. Or bits of ones and zeros in some electronic dataset somewhere in the sky. Held together by electricity. Disappearing in a second if the power ever gets cut off permanently.

You’re the real product. You’re the real life force. You’re the real energy. YOU are what can never be replaced. How you show up in the world. How you give yourself away.

Or don’t.

You either cooperate so they can live happily. You either help them meet their goals and dreams.

Or you have the courage to go live your own.

Maybe it’s possible to do both. But be sure no one is looking out for you. Not like you need.

To no fault of their own. They have enough trouble living their own life. Who doesn’t?!

But this is what it comes down to – did you LIVE your real Life? Did you at least die trying?

Or did you spend all day every day determined to value fear over possibilities? Determined to do your absolute darnedest best to not risk even one little shred of certainty for actual happiness?

Which God do you actually believe in?

No, better yet, which version of YOU do you actually believe to be true?!

The proof is in the pudding. Time will tell. There’s no escaping. There’s no hiding. Especially from yourself.

We can all see quite plainly. Even if I’m the only one foolish enough to tell you the truth.

Peace for me. And hopefully much more.

But what will YOU choose? You can start today. Even right now.

As an abused person, you are ALWAYS looking for safety. You think there is someone out there that will never hurt you. You call only THAT Love.

And I don’t blame you. I never will.

But I don’t think it exists like that. Like the global collective conscience currently promotes.

I’ve met probably easily over 20,000 people so far in the past 15-20 years. That’s probably a pretty good dataset. And I haven’t yet met someone safe enough to meet my standards.

I pushed them all away. All I have is myself left now. And turns out even I am pretty shitty company many days.

You’ll need people someday. I promise you. Just think about that at least.

I know it hurts. I just don’t have any other answer.

Unfortunately it’s like they told us all along, for better or for worse: What would you want someone to do for you if you were in their shoes? If the roles were reversed?

It might not be fair, but it just might be true. What we’re actually working with. Outside of the completely reasonable ideal.

Sorry.

You can keep looking, but I’ve been at this decades.

I don’t think Jesus is coming back the way y’all been sold.

Unfortunately I think it’s up to us. The complete opposite of what you were promised.

Right or wrong, I think we’re all stuck here until we get it literally together. Not even one little lamb lost.

I wager our souls don’t get relief when the physical body gives out. How else am I supposed to understand Jesus talking about spirits roaming around looking for a body to possess?

That’s the worst kind of karma. To not even get relief with death.

What if the next time you get sent back, you return as a recipient of and to the exact world you created before? All you worked to prepare, or didn’t work to prepare, the last time you were here before.

In other words, y’all ain’t living now like you gotta come back to exactly this. But, what if that’s facts?

I don’t think heaven is a place. I think it’s a state of mind.

And we got HELLLLLLLLL enough right now. Unless y’all are dying for more?

So, what we gonna do about it?

You risking fate again? You risking rollin’ the die of Life and thinking you’ll get better “luck” next time?

I don’t like those odds now.

House always wins. And by House, I mean Father God. Mother Holy Spirit. And Jesus.

If They went to all the trouble to come down and do the whole Virgin birth, be murdered on The Cross thing… then what makes you so sure all you have to do is dodge and wait out the chaos here in order to reach nirvana on the other side?

What if the Truth is much more reasonable? And intellectually honest.

That a God who goes to all the trouble documented in a book that has survived millennia might just be concerned with your healing more than your comfort?

And if not even one little lamb will be left behind, then what makes you think an about-face would happen in terms of God accepting leaving any part of YOU behind?

I now don’t think it works like that.

I now don’t think the answer is you, or ANY one of us, gets to coast on our laurels and get off easy, get off scott-free.

I fear we come right back round again to the world just as we personally left it. Over and over as long as it takes. Until complete healing for and of ALL is achieved.

Even beyond humans. The WHOLE Earth, including ALL in it. Every breath, every being, every tree, every cell, every atom.

I think that’s the definition of Justice they didn’t teach us, conveniently: setting things right. As in making straight the way. Putting the broken bones back together. Everyone. And so on.

Versus punishment and destruction.

You think Hitler, and all the other flagrant abusers, escaped retribution?

I don’t anymore think so at all. I think they got re-shuffled. I think their spirits got recycled. I think they came all the way back around here in a different form. And exist amongst us even now.

Maybe Hitler is even right now existing as an infant in a mother’s arms. What if Hitler even got sent back as a little Jewish baby this time? To the exact world he created. Wouldn’t that be some shit?!

But what if it’s true? What if the people shooting the guns come back as the babies of the victims they did dirty?

What if that’s all the luck and deliverance we can expect?

Would you Live differently then?

Any one of the people alive right now could have been someone else in a past life. And will continue to be. Over and over. As long as it takes until every last one of us completely gets it.

That’s what I now believe. That we are all literally one.

No soft landings, buddy. Only real, real Life.

Until we ALL, every last one, completely get it. That just might be real actual Love.

What if you never get to escape your consequences? What if you only come back as the grandbaby, or something similar, of the person you treated the worst? What if THAT is the best you can expect?

Wouldn’t that be some shit?

I don’t think it’s too far fetched or crazy of an idea.

And if I’m not wrong, I definitely think the majority missed the memo.

What would you do differently right now if there’s even a chance that what I am saying is true?

You willing to keep chancing God letting you off the hook scott-free eternally?

Or is your soul whispering that something in all this might warrant more than the usual flippant cursory dismissal? Maybe there’s enough here worth at least a little more serious self-reflection?

Just sayin’.

For myself first.