JTParamedic
Member
I’m questioning my sanity, because I’m questioning what I’ve always held to be empirically true. Weird loop of logic right? How can I be mad at myself for having doubts? I guess that’s how I taught myself to think.
I’ve been an atheist for almost ten years, with the exception of a moment of me “finding God” in the tenth grade after a brutal end of a relationship with someone whom I loved beyond belief. That faded after awhile and my atheism came back in full force in college when I started to find myself again. I was the stereotypical angry atheist (without the fedora) and I would welcome the challenge from anyone who had a different opinion than me. To be honest, I was kind of a dick! My goal was to prove everyone else’s “non-scientific” theories about the world wrong. I was good too. I knew my arguments, and I knew most of the opposing side’s as well. Some people accepted me, but most didn’t even try to argue or debate; because I guess I wasn’t worth the breath!
I’m 24 now, and I’m an adult with a more refined outlook on life. I became a little more agnostic and a lot more chill about the people around me being religious. My problem is that as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become horrified of the idea of my own mortality. I’ve always been scared of dying, same as everyone I suppose.. but this is different. I see death everywhere I look. I see my dog who just turned four, and all I can think about is how he may die soon and how much it’s going to hurt me. I hug my dad five times a day, because I know that one day I’m going to look back and wish I could get just one more hug from him. Everyone is just a ticking timebomb waiting to explode. They think my job has made me paranoid, which could be true;
I’ve been especially paranoid around kids every since I saw the death of a two year old boy last summer. I’ve never had a death effect me like him, I remember everything about it vividly... His hair color, his eyes glazed over, his distended belly, his little Cookie Monster diaper that was full.. the coolness of his skin and the feeling of his ribs giving way as I pushed my weight into him. His mommy watched as I did CPR on him; her screams played in the background like an orchestra playing for a movie.. it was surreal. When it was over, I went into the bathroom in the ER and cried like a baby. I’d never done that before, and this was probably the seventh death I’d seen.
I want to believe there’s a God, and I want to believe there’s a place where that little boy is able to live happy up there. I want to know when my doggy dies that he won’t just be something to rot in the ground, but he will get to be happy somewhere else. I don’t want to lose my mom and dad. I’m scared and I don’t know what to believe anymore.
My old self tells me I’m a weak idiot for trying to believe something that I’m too smart to accept as a fact. I can’t just believe something because I want it to be true. That’s not reality, but reality is driving me insane. The only comfort I have is the deep feeling of connection to the earth. I feel more than just a piece of flesh and bone. My old self would tell me that’s just my irrational human brain trying to make sense of something it can’t handle. I can’t deny that as being false, or true. I just want someone who understands this stuff to tell me something to give me hope. Maybe it’s not the right thing to ask, but I’m not ready to give up on being happy.
sorry about rambling. I was pretty upset while writing this.
thanks
I’ve been an atheist for almost ten years, with the exception of a moment of me “finding God” in the tenth grade after a brutal end of a relationship with someone whom I loved beyond belief. That faded after awhile and my atheism came back in full force in college when I started to find myself again. I was the stereotypical angry atheist (without the fedora) and I would welcome the challenge from anyone who had a different opinion than me. To be honest, I was kind of a dick! My goal was to prove everyone else’s “non-scientific” theories about the world wrong. I was good too. I knew my arguments, and I knew most of the opposing side’s as well. Some people accepted me, but most didn’t even try to argue or debate; because I guess I wasn’t worth the breath!
I’m 24 now, and I’m an adult with a more refined outlook on life. I became a little more agnostic and a lot more chill about the people around me being religious. My problem is that as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become horrified of the idea of my own mortality. I’ve always been scared of dying, same as everyone I suppose.. but this is different. I see death everywhere I look. I see my dog who just turned four, and all I can think about is how he may die soon and how much it’s going to hurt me. I hug my dad five times a day, because I know that one day I’m going to look back and wish I could get just one more hug from him. Everyone is just a ticking timebomb waiting to explode. They think my job has made me paranoid, which could be true;
I’ve been especially paranoid around kids every since I saw the death of a two year old boy last summer. I’ve never had a death effect me like him, I remember everything about it vividly... His hair color, his eyes glazed over, his distended belly, his little Cookie Monster diaper that was full.. the coolness of his skin and the feeling of his ribs giving way as I pushed my weight into him. His mommy watched as I did CPR on him; her screams played in the background like an orchestra playing for a movie.. it was surreal. When it was over, I went into the bathroom in the ER and cried like a baby. I’d never done that before, and this was probably the seventh death I’d seen.
I want to believe there’s a God, and I want to believe there’s a place where that little boy is able to live happy up there. I want to know when my doggy dies that he won’t just be something to rot in the ground, but he will get to be happy somewhere else. I don’t want to lose my mom and dad. I’m scared and I don’t know what to believe anymore.
My old self tells me I’m a weak idiot for trying to believe something that I’m too smart to accept as a fact. I can’t just believe something because I want it to be true. That’s not reality, but reality is driving me insane. The only comfort I have is the deep feeling of connection to the earth. I feel more than just a piece of flesh and bone. My old self would tell me that’s just my irrational human brain trying to make sense of something it can’t handle. I can’t deny that as being false, or true. I just want someone who understands this stuff to tell me something to give me hope. Maybe it’s not the right thing to ask, but I’m not ready to give up on being happy.
sorry about rambling. I was pretty upset while writing this.
thanks