Credit: Cover art for the book The Third Eye by author T. Lobsang Rampa, Instagram @noir.kala
I've grown disillusioned with the concept of God and religion altogether. I'm long past the doubting/questioning phase and fixed within the realm of-- "why are we here?" and "what the fuck even is humanity?"
Two weeks ago, one of my assignments was to record my activities over 3 days: what energized me and what didn't, and whether each elicited a positive or negative response. Alongside it were questions on my perspectives on life, work, money, and beliefs. The first few were easy enough to answer; however, the last brought up some complicated feelings. Feelings I haven't fully come to terms with-- nor wanted to.
It was less about the questions and more about coming face to face with the fact that-- I don't believe in him anymore. The big man upstairs-- also better known as "Sky daddy" respectfully. Honestly, this realization terrifies me. The Christian religion has played an influential role in my childhood development, significantly skewing my worldview. It made me fearful and paranoid, either of hell or the rapture. But, even as a child, I always felt a disconnect between what I learned and how I felt. I was taught that LGBTQ+ people were sinful and bound for hell, didn't matter if they were "good" people or did good deeds, their hellish fates sealed; and yet it felt so wrong-- so unfair. My small brain couldn't fathom why these people in particular were considered the equivalent of murderers and pure evil. Instead, I felt sad, heartbroken even, that due to their "choice" they won't gain access to paradise.
Obedience was something else I couldn't wrap my head around. Being taught that as a child of God, I was not only obligated to obey my parents, but also anyone who was an adult. They tell me to do something, and I obey without question. To not is a show of disrespect. I distinctly remember asking something along the lines of, "Even if it's something bad?" and the response?, "You do it anyway and ask God for forgiveness later." Deep down, child me felt this line of thinking was wrong, but followed along anyway-- to my detriment.
Even though, throughout the years, I've long since separated myself from this mindset. It was a long, arduous process of healing and relearning. Respecting and loving people for who they are. Yet the fear of burning in hell or being left behind persists. There'd be that little voice in the back of my mind, "What if?" What are the chances of hell being real--- burning for all of eternity? Even now, I still shiver at the thought despite not being a believer. I still fear the afterlife or being abandoned on earth. It's frustrating. It's the one thing that refuses to go away. I want to appreciate life in the here and now, not after. I'm hoping someday I'll be fully healed from this as well.