i’m a crappy christian

In recovery speak, they talk about hitting our the bottom. DUI, divorce, homeless, bankrupt, STD’s all can be “bottom” moments that begin a new direction.

A few nights ago I may have hit bottom.

I am addicted to food. Actually, I am depressed. Food is what I use to try to feel good. A quick detour for those of you who do not understand depression, or at least my version, it is the inability to experience or sometimes even imagine true pleasure. I feel numb more than anything else. Sometimes I am sad, but when I am depressed I mostly feel numb. This is where sugar comes in. You can insert in place of sugar any number of quick fixes: sex, risky behavior, beer, shopping, porno, work and success, fighting, etc. The list is much longer than this, and I have tried them all, but my favorite is always sugar. Not very glamourous, but it is my default addiction. It is a bit embarrassing in that guys are not normally talking this addiction. The guys seem to often have work addictions, but at least they get six-figure incomes and a nice retirement. I get a huge ass and diabetes.

I seldom know why I am getting depressed, or even that it is happening, I just seem to not fit into any of my clothes anymore. I think sugar will make me happy. It feels good, and if it feels good, I might be happy, even if it is for the briefest of moments while I chew. This has been an especially hard season, and the darkness is fast approaching.

Yesterday I woke with a new resolve to defeat my dependency on food, actually I always wake convinced that I will never again fall to the temptation to gorge. I drank a low calorie nutritional drink for breakfast and had a ½ apple for lunch. Wow, I am healed.

But the evening is what always gets me. After 10 hours of sobriety, I deserve a little reward. I never have a little of anything, however. Then I always have this thought, “oh, screw it, I am a loser and now I have blown it. I may as well go all the way…”

I gorged. Picture a bear at the spring salmon run, or any six year old left unattended in the candy store. I discovered Nutella (Nutella is a peanut butter like concoction made of hazelnut and chocolate that Satan invented. In the periodic table it is the caloric equivalent of lead.) I began with Nutella on a graham cracker, but it felt more like a tease. Alas, there were no more crackers. The next installment was Nutella on a spoon, a large spoon. Good, but not quite enough. I needed something substantial to carry the Nutella. I found chocolate pop-tarts. I promise that in that moment it made perfect sense, the proper antidote to my pain. After what a civilian would have considered an excessive amount, I loaded a chocolate pop-tart with an inch of Nutella frosting and looked for Nirvana.

That must be a bottom. I hope it will motivate me to a new direction. I called the doctor, resolved to get back on my med’s. This blog has no real point, just a confession.

p.s. some of you might be reading, starting to feel anxious. How can we help Karl, you might wonder? Just understanding. That’s all I need. And please, no favorite sugar free jello recipes.

Here is my proposal: let’s all get church uniforms.

Uniforms are great! They make it easy to recognize who is on your team and who is the enemy. A uniform could help take some of the guess work out of who is “in” and who is “out” , who we are for, who we are against. I will attempt to design a uniform that I think best represents and serves the suburban, typical, evangelical, church (S.T.E.N.CH)

Ok, I think it needs to be one solid color, something light, say peach or barely beige, because brown and black and yellow are not often seen. We like mostly whites.

It should be extremely masculine. It needs to have pants and a zipper, nothing too frilly or even remotely androgynous. You will see woman in attendance at S.T.E.N.CH, but not in any decision making capacity. God made them to be happiest in the nursery, didn’t He?

It needs to be highly flammable, because everyone knows Jesus hates it when you smoke. Enough said.

Pockets are needed, but only the right side. Anything to do with the “left” is disgusting.

I think a nice red, white and blue tie would help make it clear that we are primarily concerned with America.

A small cross necklace, of course empty, without Jesus hanging across it, is a nice
way to say Not Catholic. We are still pretty pissed off about that Rome thing.

It must be medium sized. This is subtle, but we really do not like obese people. Jesus wants excellence, and chubby Christians are just not trying hard enough.

The helmet is critical. It must be able to protect our brains and ears from anything that does not come from our team. Something that would limit our vision and ability to hear would be helpful. “be careful little eyes what you see…”

Finally, winged tipped shoes. Nothing says we are “conservative” like wing tips.

I hope this catches on. It seems critical that we be able to identify who is not on our team. This idea of loving people as they are as the great Christian distinction is just not working very well.

If this fails I have this really cool, secret handshake I am working on.

Ok, I am dying to know your thoughts, so let us know. Anything you would add to the uniform?

Karl