Perfect or Lazy

I really wouldn't make a good manual laborer. Not that I'm really weak or anything, but that I'm too much of a perfectionist. I was helping my grandmother clean out her car today, and every time I scrubbed something, I wanted to do it perfectly. I worried that I wasn't trying "hard enough," even in a simple car-washing.

This same problem occurs in my school work. I feel like I have to do my best all the time, or else I'm being lazy. There is no in-between. A lot of this comes, I think, from misinterpreting Colossians 3:23-24, which reads, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." I figured that if I was working for God, then I better give it all I had or else dishonor him. When I was younger, I finally had to write a note to myself beside this verse - "You can't get out the toothbrush for everything" - when I was literally using a toothbrush to clean the floor of one of the bathrooms in my dad's house, trying to "work at it with all my heart."

This mindset is still a major problem for me, as evidenced from my car-cleaning adventure. My last semester of college, my dad was trying to teach me how to do things "half-assed." (To quote Homer Simpson, "But, I'm using my whole ass!") I tried to listen to him and get a B, even a C, on an assignment or a test, but my brain kept telling me that to do so meant to be a bad person. Anything less than my best effort is sinful, apparently. And this doesn't just apply to school. I handed in resumes and applications at a hair salon and a car dealership today and I couldn't help thinking, "If I work there, I have to work as hard as possible, or else they won't like me and I'll be lazy." I just can't escape the mindset.

This is part of the reason why I'm so upset with religion. I feel like it made me this way. Now, before you start getting on my case for bashing Christianity, just indulge me a minute. I know that I had the choice to not interpret that verse in the way I did, but think about how my interpretation was reinforced. Aside from all the praise I received at school for working my butt off, haven't you heard pastors preach about being "stewards" of our time and talents? I think that the mainstream culture of Christianity reinforces my interpretation of Colossians 3. And look where that got me.

What Next?

What do you do if you graduate college with a degree in religion and yet are totally disillusioned with all God has to offer? That's where I'm currently stuck. My degree is essentially worthless at this point. So what do I do?

Since I've been back home I've been slowly applying to various jobs, many of them clerical in nature. I'm mostly just looking for something to keep me busy and help me save some money for a car. But what about an actual career? To do that I would probably need to go back to school, but at this point I have no drive whatsoever. What happened? I used to be so into school and learning, and now I just want to sit on my butt and do nothing. And yet I'm bored. It's a twisted trap I'm in: I hate doing anything, but I'm bored beyond belief just sitting here. I don't want to exert any effort to better myself, but I hate where I'm at. I'm just stuck.

I don't think this is how life is supposed to be. Aren't you supposed to want to spend your life doing something? Aren't you supposed to have some sort of passion? At this point, anything requiring skill scares me and everything else seems boring. What happened to me? How am I supposed to go on living like this? At least when I was blinded by religion, I had something to be passionate about. Now what? Is it better to be blind but happy or to see the holes in your beliefs and feel miserable about it? How do I regain a semblance of purpose when all I believed in is currently hanging on by a thread? I just don't know anymore.

Back Story: Part I

I'll be honest. I have nothing interesting to talk about today. My day so far has consisted of shopping and not buying anything (I'm so cheap...) and pleading with Rosetta Stone to hire me as an online English tutor. So, in lieu of more interesting musings, today's post will consist of a bit of the story behind this blog.

Like most of the students at my university, I grew up going to church and wanting to please God. When I was five, I prayed with my mom to accept Jesus into my heart. To be honest, I think I was just terrified of going to Hell and being separated from my family. I don't think it was a real heartfelt desire to be with Jesus at that point. But, whatever it was, that moment marked my induction into the culture of Christianity. From that point on, I tried to live by the standards set out in Christian circles and do my very best to be pleasing to God. I was pretty damn good at it, too! (Hmmm...something seems ironic there...)


By the time I got to high school, my religion had become my main focus in life. I was the one organizing Bible studies with my friends and vowing to never drink alcohol (you all know how long that lasted) and, eventually, planning on going to a Christian college. Once I got to college, my dedication to Christian principles hardened into legalism thanks to a particular Bible study I chose to be a part of. I felt that if I didn't love God with every fiber of my being, there was no point in being a Christian at all. And any deviation from a life devoted to God was indication of the true evil state of my heart. Pretty much, I was doomed. As you can guess, this led to quite a bit of anxiety. I felt I had to give my all to God or else he would reject me. All of this culminated the night before Easter 2009.

That night, I was kneeling on my floor, praying, and I thought I heard God tell me to go out into the hall and sing and the top of my lungs. I was afraid - what a ridiculous thing to do! So I didn't go out, and immediately felt extreme guilt clench around my ribs. That was it. He had rejected me. I had finally proved my allegiance was to myself and not to him. Now there was no turning back. I was going to Hell. Frantic, I roamed the halls, looking for someone to comfort me. I finally holed myself up in a bathroom stall and thought to myself, "I'm already going to Hell... What would it matter if I just killed myself?" That was my lowest point. That was where religion got me...and yet I still held on to it.


Well, that should be enough for now... More to come in the future!