And the praying continues

My phone blew up yesterday. I had to turn it off. I am sorry for not responding. I eventually will. And I realize how rude it is to read and not respond but the unfortunate reality of my state of mind is that I cannot do it. And the well-meaning, “I am still praying for you”? Salt. Horrible, bubbly salt. Stop it.

1.)Someone who hides malicious intent under the guise of kindliness

2.)A person who is “two-faced

1-“Hey I just met the nicest girl.”

2-“Yeah I saw…I know her, she hurts guys just for fun, her kindness is fake.”

1-“Jeez..what a wolf in sheep’s clothing”

My life, in a nutshell right now. A wolf, hiding under the sheepish shape of God and religion. A wolf who’s hatefully posted for weeks only to recoil when a kind young man, befriended them. The tone changed when I boiled over. They didn’t see the weeks of Tweets. The drive-bys, the Instagram photos of stalking work. They missed when they lied online about who I was and what they were going through. They don’t hear all the lies this person believes and uses as weapons against me. They didn’t see all the passiveness shrink away when called out on it. When I got called psychotic¬†for looking at this person public Twitter when they have found ways to look at my private Instagram then tweet passively about how “fake” we were. So, eff you. For taking a side. Fuck you for picking the villain and not the victim if you were so inclined to feel you had to choose. God is not real. If he was, I wouldn’t feel shunned time and time again. Shunned when I didn’t sign your rule book. Shunned when I didn’t provide free services. Shunned when I had unanswerable and uncomfortable questions and shunned when I need someone to lift me up. God is not real. And religion is just an excuse to sing the praises of forgiveness instead of digging into the real problems. I am done with praying. Stop praying for me. Praying doesn’t work.

It’s people, not God that do this. I know that he wasn’t going to reach down a redirect crashing airplanes but everyone speaks of hearing him and I cannot. All I hear is silence and I see pain. All the time pain. I see babies who die and children who get cancer. I see bombs and angry and mean. This wolf in my life who can’t think of anyone but themselves. Who stole my memories and my peace. They live in the God bubble. It just makes me want nothing, ever, to do with God again. You don’t have to be a part of a church to be the good. I can be the good. I am not this monster.

I am so fucking angry right now. So incredibly angry. I am angry that my tiny problems balled up into this. That I let the “it could be so much worse” trap me into this corner of not trying to get it out and now, I have this enormous,¬†ungodly demon floating around me all the time. Each silver car that passed made me shiver only to find out that the silver car was traded for another; convenient. Afraid to go out, afraid to do anything. I am angry that my kids’ lives got turned upside down and that everything I loved, changed and now looks different, feels different, smells different and is different. That I am the outsider in the circle and while the volumes of people reaching out make me feel loved, I am so hardened that I cannot accept it or permit myself to believe that they love me. How can anyone love me….. how do you get the words “well at least someone does” out of my head. How do you accept that people love you when this kind of thing happens in your life? How do you prevent the wolf and the illness from winning? Because they’re fucking winning. The wolf, a pathetic clone of what they thought was me. Ill-proportioned words and bravery, staggeringly hidden under the guise of “say it to my face” and “do you have something to say to me” but only in an audience and not one and one. That’s fear, whether wolves believe it or not. Running, fearfully from the store, knowing I was coming. Passively tweeting, that’s fear. Lying is fear.

Winning. What’s the prize? What do any of us win in this? A poverty of peace. A poverty of love. Instability. We all win fear. We win angry and we win sad. Surely you can’t believe anyone believes your painted words. Surely you have to realize how words mean nothing and actions mean everything. And you can’t fix smudges all the time.

Please stop telling me you’re praying for me. I don’t want to hear it anymore.





Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

2 thoughts on “And the praying continues

  1. I am speechless. I don’t know what to say. I am sorry that you are so angry. I don’t want you to be that angry. I guess I’m sorry that you HAVE to be that angry. You have to know that we humans are given a choice, every single second of the day. God gives us that ability. Sometimes we make good choices, sometimes we suck. And yes, there are those things that we are completely helpless to–cancer, Alzheimer’s, miscarriages, SIDS, wars, natural disasters…I’m sure every person on this earth is affected by something uncontrollable that they wish they could control for the better. If we could do that, we would live in a perfect world. God tried that with Adam & Eve. But apparently, Eve made a choice–and not a wise one. And then He tried it again with Noah. Started over. And what did we do? We’ve been making the wrong freaking choices ever since. I think if I was God, I would be pissed at us humans. We suck–big time. I don’t believe that God let’s bad things happen. I believe He tries to teach us what’s good and what’s bad, and leaves it to us to make our choices. Things on this earth just happen–it’s just life. We created the bad things. So, now we have to learn how to cope with the bad stuff and that’s why we have family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, support groups, you name it–oh yes, and God, if you choose to reach out to Him. But He also gives us the knowledge and tools on how to fight the bad things and how to keep us safe, and He is there if we need comfort when nothing else works.

    Please understand Gail, I’m not here to preach to you. I’m only sharing what I believe. It hurts me when I hear people blame God for all the bad things that happen. Why should we blame God instead of ourselves? Unfortunately, we have a lot of bad eggs on this planet. I would welcome a hell of a lot more dogs in my life than people knowing what people are capable of. They love unconditionally (well, maybe for that extra treat too). It’s okay to be mad at God sometimes–He knows it’s a human emotion. After all, we are freaking imperfect. But I know He has hope for us.

    I wish I could take your anger away, or the pain that feeds your anger. My mom has been officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I went through a whole stream of different emotions. I’m tired of crying. I know I can’t do anything to help her. I know I’m slowly getting robbed of the memories that she holds in her head and the emotions that she would always feel. She eventually won’t know the difference–but I will. I did feel anger. I hate this disease. But I don’t blame God for it–I look to Him to keep my head straight when I feel like falling apart at the seams…He does give me peace especially when I’m at my lowest–He has done it several times. I can only hope that He can do that for you some day. But I won’t call that a prayer ;O)

    I know you don’t want prayers, or maybe anything to do with God…so I won’t pray for you. But what I will do is keep you close in my heart. I don’t know what, if anything, I could do for you, or even if you wanted or needed anything, but I’m here if you ever did. Even if it’s just a hug, a silent stare, a cool-ass handshake, or just a ‘wassup’ head nod–just call on me.


    1. I am blaming people and angry that this God I have tried to closely to follow, answers nothing. Even if it isn’t the answer I wanted. I get nothing. Not a sound or a song or a kick in the ass. Nothing. I am tired of looking for something that isn’t there.

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