I think religion is sneaking up on me. It may be an inevitable progression: get healthy, get sober, get Jesus. I�m kidding, sort of. I was pretty young when I realized there isn�t a God. It was scary and sad, but I was a brave kid. My mother wouldn�t be happy to hear this, but her explanation of the nonexistence of Santa kind of grew, in my little mind, to encompass God too. She said: �If there are people you love, and who love you, does there need to be a Santa?� I realize that she was mostly addressing my fear that I would stop getting presents, and I also realize there�s a big �if� in there, but it still works for me.

For the record, it�s not that I have had bad experiences with organized religion. I�ve had wonderful and satisfying experiences with organized religion, and I expect that I will continue to. I don�t think that makes me a hypocrite, either.

Last night, Friday night, the phone rang around 10:30. Because my party lifestyle is so crazy, I was already asleep and had been for some time, but I picked up. It was Julie, the woman who runs the needle exchange program where I volunteer. She was calling to say needle exchange was cancelled for the next day because her dog had run away and she was going to spend the night looking for him. She said flatly, �I am really really upset,� and I knew that meant she was really, really upset. After I hung up, I felt very anxious for her. I also felt slightly guilty because I occasionally fantasize that needle exchange will be cancelled so that I can have my Saturday to myself. Before I knew it, I was halfway to �Dear God, please help Julie find her dog.�

Thinking about it now, in the clear light of day, I think my brief religious outcry was about control, or lack of it. In the past, I didn�t even attempt to exert control over my life. Now that I�ve realized I can control my own behavior (what a concept!) and the general direction of my life, the things I can�t control become glaringly obvious and more troubling. I can�t control whether Julie finds her dog, whether my dad�s cancer comes back, or whether someone I love gets in a car accident. Even my being a perfect person wouldn�t prevent bad things from happening. What I can do is make the choice to stop actively contributing to my own downfall. In a weird way, maybe heavy drinking is a way of trying to control bad things happening to you by administering them yourself.

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