Respect My Disbelief

I didn't know it at the time, but in the months preceding my forced hospitalization I did make a few half-hearted and ultimately doomed attempts to "get help" for my drinking.

Jenny was one of those attempts. Jenny was a girl that I worked with during my on-again/off-again temp assignments at Bank of Generica. She was slender and bookish, keeping her long auburn hair in an unfashionable bun and wearing unflattering, baggy clothing with minimal cosmetics.

She looked like the kind of girl who would play Dungeons and Dragons with you- the sort of chick who would allocate more points for her character's Intelligence than for Strength or Charisma.

She wore librarian glasses and sensible shoes.

To me, she was hot. She was real, and it made her the most attractive woman in our department, so I was delighted when she approached me as we were leaving a meeting.

"Do I know you from somewhere? You look very familiar- have we met?", she asked.

For a drunk, this is a tough question to answer. Drunks have bad memories and worse behavior. If she 'knew me from somewhere', it was probably from me being drunk and hitting on her in some stinky-ass rock club.
Perhaps I had sold cocaine to her?
Hmmm...I like this woman. Did I know her?
I wanted to.

"I don't know...are you into the local music scene?"

Maybe she had seen me at a radio-sponsored event. Perhaps she'd even seen me play guitar or bass on-stage!
That would be cool...but the look she gave me indicated that she wasn't aware that there was such a thing as a 'music scene'.

"No...that wouldn't be it. Have I seen you at church?"

"Uh...no, I don't think so."

Church? When was the last time I went to church? I have never attended church in my adult life. I'm sure she hadn't seen me in church.

"Well, it's from somewhere...I feel like I know you..."

She likes me, I thought, but work intervened before I could follow up.

A few days later, we were working together and she picked up our truncated conversation.

"I think I did see you at church."

She named a church. Sure enough, I used to attend AA meetings there when I was on probation, but I didn't want to tell her that.

"Oh, yeah...I have, uh, been there before. It's been a long time, though."

Jenny smiled and said she was glad she figured that out- she'd been thinking about me for several days, it seems. That turned me on. She likes me, tra la la...

We worked together quite well, Jenny was smart and funny and our tedious tasks were not so bad when we did them together- over the course of our talks, I learned that she was into Jazz Dance and liked to write fiction. Cool.

She rarely drank and she didn't do drugs.

I did both daily, but I didn't tell her that.

I didn't want to keep doing those things, I just didn't have a reason to stop. I didn't even know that I wanted to quit- all I knew is that my head was full of really bad ideas and I was desperate for something...but what?

One of my really bad ideas involved Jenny.

I thought that if I could get Jenny to date me, I would find the strength to quit. I would get my courage from her, not from a bottle.
For a woman like Jenny, I believed, I could do anything- including quitting booze.
I hadn't had a significant relationship for years, and the women I did know were at least as drunk and fucked-up as me. Eightballs and benders...I didn't 'date', I binged.

One time, my girlfriend stole all my dope and then tried to sic her half-wolf/half-Shepherd hybrid on me when I demanded the return of my drugs, which she had already sold and shot.
I was the one who usually fed the poor dog-beast, it liked me a lot so it just sat and whined while we fought, but the whole scene was fairly indicative of my success in relationships.

Hey man, can I crash on your couch for awhile?

Why?

My girlfriend threw me out. She tried to attack me with a wolf.

What would happen if I dated a a girl who didn't have a coke dealer on speed dial or a wolf in the backyard?
Maybe if I dated a 'straight' woman, I'd get clean- that was my hope. At least in hindsight, I think that was part of what I was looking for- Jenny was much too bright to date a fuck-up, so I thought maybe she could magically "fix" me just by sleeping with me on a fairly regular interval and doing whatever else it is that people do when they aren't fucking or getting wasted.

That was a false and wholly unfair hope if there ever was one, not to mention a completely ass-backward approach...definitely not a moment of clarity or reason for me. I had completely bottomed-out and didn't even know it.

But the bad idea seemed like a good one at the time.

Of course, first I had to get her to go out with me.

This was really easy to do. A friend of mine was playing at a local Jazz club and I had free admission. When I asked Jenny if she'd like to go, she readily accepted.
She'd been waiting for me to ask. So we went.

We had dinner in the club's quiet dining room- when the waitress cleared our plates, I noticed that I had three empty beer bottles and two shot glasses on my side of the table.

Jenny had consumed about one-third of a glass of wine.
Jenny was aware of this disparity.

"Look, I need to ask you something and you might not like hearing it", she leaned towards me.

"OK."

"How can you be a Seeker if you drink so much? How can you find anything in that condition?"

A Seeker? What is that?

"Um...what's a 'Seeker'?"

"A Seeker of Christ. Of the Truth. I thought that's what you were."

"Uh...well...honestly, I'm not religious..."

Oh no. I can't have this talk right now, I thought. I have too much liquor in me to be tactful and I'm not drunk enough to tell lies. Why is it assumed that I am a Christian? We've never even discussed religion before.

I raised my arm- another beer and a shot over here, please.
I am not ready for this.

"You do believe in God, though. Right? Don't you?"

Make that shot a double!

"Ah...no. I don't."

"What? How can you not believe in God?"

"I just don't...I'm an atheist...or maybe an agnostic. I dunno. I haven't really thought about it much."

This was true and it still is- except for the thinking part. After that night, it occurred to me that I might stand to benefit from giving religion some thought. I figured I 'd better learn enough about it so that the next time a woman asked me if I was a 'Seeker', I'd be able to give the answer that got me laid.

That's how I saw religion. As a tool to be used to coerce others into doing something that they might not otherwise do. A means to power.
Sure, I'll pretend to be a Christian if it means getting laid. Or a raise. Or elected.
Or at least I used to think that way.

After sober reflection, I have no faith that any 'God' exists, but I do believe that using religion as a tool for manipulating people is inherently wrong. It's how wars get started and it's a pretty shoddy foundation for a healthy relationship.

The truth is, I don't really care if there is or isn't a 'God'. It doesn't much matter to me.
I can change myself , but I can't change God. Can I ? Would I even want to?

The beliefs of other's shouldn't be cause for killing.

Does this exchange make sense?:

"Why do we hate them?"

"They worship in an improper fashion."

"How do we know that?"

"Our Book About God tells us that."

"And that is worth killing for?"

"Yes."

"But our God tells us not to kill."

"Die, infidel, die."

It doesn't make sense to me, but it happens every day.

When I was dying, coughing up my shredded guts onto the cold white ER floor, I didn't pray.
I didn't think about God at all. I wanted to live. I was afraid of dying, but not of judgement.
I was bleeding to death and I needed surgery.
God wasn't a part of the decision to go to hospital instead of letting the darkness fall.
Pain was. Fear was. God was not.

Who will feed my cats? I remember thinking about that, but I don't recall saying any prayers .
I remember wanting an ice cube really, really, badly and suddenly feeling quite cold.
No praying.
Whomever said: "there are no atheists in foxholes " was wrong.
I've been in a foxhole of sorts and I didn't convert.

But that was to be in the future.

In the past, I am still talking to Jenny.

All I needed to do was to lie to her and say I believed- and I would have been in her bed, making her cry "Sweet Jesus and Amen, Hally -Yoo-Ha!" all-night long...all I had to do was lie...but I didn't. Looking back, I'm glad I didn't.

"How", she asked, "is it possible to not believe in God? How can you even live like that?"

"Jenny, I really just don't know. I guess I just muddle along. I never really give it much thought."

Jenny was a bit stunned by my revelation.

"You haven't thought about it much? That's not possible."

Maybe I should have lied. She didn't believe the truth. Maybe I should have asked what particular faith she was...not that I much cared. She wasn't a puritan or a tee-totaler, I knew that much.

"Uh...it just doesn't come up much."

This was true, but it wasn't well received by Jenny, who was Seeking Truth.

Jenny took a long sip of her wine and stared at me. She looked stricken. She glanced down at her wine. I thought she was going to gulp the rest of it but she set it down, pushed it aside.

I thought, she's ready to leave and the band hasn't even started yet.
I'm not getting any tonight.

"I respect your beliefs."

That's what she said.

"I respect your beliefs."

It was a concluding statement but I was too drunk to let it go. Mistakes were made.

"You can't respect my beliefs. I don't have any beliefs.
I know things or I don't.
Things are or they aren't.
Whether I believe or not doesn't change reality, so I choose not to believe in anything."

Of course, I was too much of an asshole to keep that belief to myself.

"Are you sober enough to drive me home or do I need to call a cab?"

"I believe that I can drive."

"Liar."