my godless manifesto

“I’m in a field

A war zone

Catastrophe of the soul

A spiritual apocalypse

Bodies everywhere

Strewn mercilessly

Devastation as far as the eye can see

A wasteland of religion

But I’m alive

I run back and forth between bodies

Is there anyone still pulsing with life?

Will I find him here?

I turn bodies over one by one

Frantic gaze cutting across their lifeless expressions

I know some of these lines, these eyes, mouths and noses.

Air knocked viciously from my chest as though I fled unknowingly into an invisible wall

How can this all be?

How did it all come to be?

How did I get here?

How did it come to this?

It’s too much to take in

I steel my will and steady my breathing

I squeeze my eyes to keep the tears at bay

There is no time to grieve now

I must keep looking from one body to the next

None of the faces are the one I’m looking for

Where has he gone?

Where does he lay dying?

So much has died around me

So many good things

Helpful things

Comforting things

Double-edged things

Masqueraded things

Hidden things

Ugly yet seemingly beautiful things

Death envelopes me on every side”

{written by yours truly in 2014}

::

I didn’t lose my religion, I didn’t misplace God, I didn’t walk away, I didn’t even run away. This is not where I wanted to end up, nor where I tried to end up. I was hurled here not of my own volition. Like a warzone where a bomb went off and I wake up in the aftermath, unsure of where I am and how in the heck I ever got here in the first place. But truth was chosen. I have always been a truth seeker, always unsatiated with trite and neatly packaged hollow answers. Coming to grips with the reality that there was no higher being coming to rescue me. The salvation I had been taught all my life and clung to, built my life around, none of it was coming true. Because it wasn’t truth to begin with. No one was waiting for me, no one was coming for me, no one was going to make it all right in the end. No one but me. Me.

People seem to think people always choose unbelief. I don’t believe this about unbelief. I certainly didn’t choose it, it came for me. Unbelief is what was waiting for me. Unbelief took my hand, lifted my head, and said there is another way underneath all the lies, all the manipulated comfort, all the age old traditions we bury ourselves in because we are afraid, just afraid down to the bone; and we see no other alternative to be and feel okay in a very confusing world other than to blindly accept and never question below the surface. Speaking of bones, it is in mine to question. I ask what others don’t want to ask. I say what others don’t want to give voice to. I lose friends, I don’t sugarcoat my truth as I see it.

No longer having God has been devastating. Peace is coming slowly. Having my faith completely fall apart has been a shattering not dissimilar to a war torn country. The fallout, it is still falling, still settling, pieces still yet to hit the ground. I am not out, as they say. I feel like an imposter around most of the people in my world. Most probably view me as a disenfranchised christian who got sick of church or who is blaming all her problems on God and imperfect people in the church. Not true, absolutely not true. People often think I just haven’t wrestled with the truth enough, that I have settled for easy answers to assuage my pain. In fact, the complete opposite is true. I am where I am today because I didn’t stop wrestling, I didn’t accept settling, I pushed through the pain because to not do so would have been more painful in the long run, and I knew that instinctively.

Many in the atheist or agnostic communities at large may think the peace ought to be instantaneous. Those who never claimed Christianity as their lifeblood can’t possibly know what it is to learn to breathe something else when the source is yanked away from them, the oxygen gone. The sky fell. The floor underneath my feet gave way. The scaffolding collapsed. I went under. To say it has been heartbreaking is an understatement on a massive scale. Brutal. Beyond brutal. I honestly wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the torment, and felt at numerous times it may just simply be best to take my own life and forget it all, because the air in my lungs was almost completely and entirely gone. I was suffocating on the christian faith, it was literally killing me on the inside, yet as it was taken from me I also had to come to a place of releasing and accepting, then I felt as though I wouldn’t survive the deconstruction of it all. Having faith almost killed me, and coming to terms with no longer having faith almost killed me. Multiple experiences with clergy and their churches exacerbated the deconversion, as well as personal trauma and the church’s response, or lack thereof, but what it all really came down to was the absolute silence of God when the metaphorical room had been emptied of all but he and I. He wasn’t answering me or responding to me because ultimately he was never really there in the first place. It hinged on relationship for me, and then all the holes in the doctrine I had been explaining away all my life simply became accessories to the loss.

I am coming up for air now, I have found a new oxygen to breathe. I no longer am bleeding out, the pain coming from every pore like being poked with a million needles simultaneously. I have found a new source of life and it is slowly flowing into every part of me, filling me up. Me. Myself. Beauty. Love. Truth. Integrity. Compassion. Relationship. Life. Peace is slowly arriving and the slow death of God is almost complete, thank god, literally, okay maybe not literally, but you get the drift. Peace feels so good. I can breathe deep now. I look forward to the day I can fully be me with everyone in my life. It is heading that direction, regardless of the additional fallout, because I am a truth teller and a truth seeker, it’s in my bones and in my blood, I can be no other way.

{zt}

:: You can hear more of my overall story from last month on the Everyone’s Agnostic Podcast interview ::