Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Faith, When The Honeymoon Is Over?

What do you do when you get past that initial "high" of getting saved, of having great expectations of your life with God, and you wonder where it went? A lot of Christians get saved again and again, and that is what I did sometimes, though I eventually sensed a pattern.I have seen Christians twice my age (I am twenty-five) try stuff like "believing God" that something good would happen, and doubling down on their "ministry" in church. I honestly wonder how they can keep it up without getting exhausted, like I did. I presume having a church community gives them some kind of incentive.
I never want to have the kind of relationship I used to have with God: striving, always striving, struggling in spite of my many doubts. Sometimes I wonder if I will remain an atheist/"bad" Christian (or whatever I am) for the rest of my life, and I shudder when I think of the possibility of trying so hard again.
If God truly wants a relationship with me, He will have to reconcile himself to the fact that I am no longer going to try. I don't want to pray, knowing that I will get no discernible (to me) answer. I don't want to read the bible (or any other holy book, for that matter), trying to either ignore or justify the reprehensible parts, and pretend that it's not ancient and frankly, boring. I'm tired, and I'm done.
Being a Christian, and trying to please God, has mostly been exhausting and anxiety-producing for me. I was very relieved, actually, when my faith was broken.
"Oh, Lord, please let this work. Please be with him. Please help us. Please don't let my parents divorce. Please..."
It was constant noise, constant chattering, chattering, chattering, and then...
Silence. I couldn't pray anymore. I couldn't feel. I walked around in a fog, emotionally numb.
When I finally came out of that fog, I was different. I couldn't pray anymore, and didn't see the point in it.
I sat in church, and heard the preacher speak of things from fantasy (God answering prayer, feeling close to God, etc) as if they were real. And I knew now that it was all bullshit. How could I sit there, and hear adults twice or three times my age talk about utter nonsense? How could I pretend to believe, knowing what I now knew? I had seen the hard reality of life. I felt figuratively like a prostitute hearing virgins trying to teach me about sex.
I became cynical, and I still feel cynical sometimes.
 I didn't lose my faith, it was broken.
I was lucky in that my faith was "broken" when I was fifteen. My family was going through some very difficult times, on multiple levels. I feared not only that my parents would divorce, but that we would be financially destitute, and I also feared for my little brother's safety (because of outside circumstances, nothing within our home).
All of it together was simply too much. I kept trying, trying to be a good Christian, a good kid, pray and have faith. I constantly felt an internal pressure, like a little voice in my head (only it was my voice) constantly telling me what I "ought" to do, and it was never enough.
Then one day something snapped, and the pressure was gone. I didn't care anymore. God could kiss my ass. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Around that time, I remember reading Fannie Flagg's book, "Standing In The Rainbow." One character in it tries to do everything for everyone, and she finally just can't do it any more. She just wakes up one day and does nothing for nobody, staying in bed all day long. Then one day she wakes up out of her breakdown, and goes back to work, but she is different. She is more assertive, and takes better care of herself, rather than everyone else but her. She later says, "All my life I've been on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and now that I've had one, I feel a lot better."
My "breakdown" was the beginning of the end for my faith. At first I would write blasphemous songs and tell God that I hated him, because that was all I could do at the time; it was all I had in my arsenal because I was still in the Christian mindset and trying to get out.
Over the years I have tried again to be a good Christian, a few times, but mostly with the underlying attitude of trying it on for size, of seeing if it fits me or is useful to me rather than trying desperately to fit in its mold. Or of giving it one more shot, before I knew I couldn't do it anymore. Something has fundamentally changed in me (maybe I've lost my soul?), and I think I can credit my "breakdown" for making my life much better today.
Looking back now, I probably needed therapy or medication for depression, though I wonder if they would have been better for me or simply gave me the strength to keep going in the same destructive religious pattern. It's impossible to tell, though I do hope others get the help they need.
I have changed significantly, and it breaks my heart to see others who have not gone through this change. I see adults twice my age and older in a constant pattern of trying to do more in church, be better Christians, have more "righteous indignation." All of the things I thought I had to do, before I got angry (or admitted I was angry) at God for asking too much.
They seem to be constantly under pressure, like they're on the verge of a religious breakdown, that never happens. They can somehow keep going and going for years or even decades at a time. I did not have such strength, and my "weakness" was the best thing for me. I fear that they are too strong for their own good.
I lost my faith partially because I can only take so much abuse.

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