When I was a kid, being raised Catholic, I didn't ever see the Bible stories as being literal. So many of the stories that were presented to kids (think Noah's Ark) were just too far-fetched for me to see as anything other than a fable. But I still really didn't doubt what I was being taught as far as there being a god, etc.
I was raised by terribly abusive parents. I remember praying with everything I had in me for God to make it stop. It didn't stop. Mom and dad were abusive to each other, abusive to me, it was a nightmare house of violence that could erupt at any moment. And still I prayed for God to step in. Being Catholic, of course I prayed to The Virgin Mary...she was a mom, right, she would help me.
Then came the realization that either God didn't care - I wasn't important enough for him to waste his time on....or he wasn't real at all. The latter seemed unlikely since everyone around me believed in God. So, obviously I wasn't worth help and obviously deserved the violence, the stress, the knowledge that my parents didn't want me around, especially my mother.
When I was older (late teens/early twenties) I had given up on asking God for help long before. Then I started doing some studying and really picking apart what I had been taught. Over time I realized there most likely no god at all. Then I spent some years trying to prove to myself there was. Then I got to the point where I am good with the knowledge that there is no god, never was, never will be.
If somehow, (s)he showed up I would have to ask, "What the hell?" "What could I have possibly done as a child to deserve what I went through?" "And where the fuck were you when I was pleading for help?"
Praise that...worship that? Not happening Captain.
I was raised by terribly abusive parents. I remember praying with everything I had in me for God to make it stop. It didn't stop. Mom and dad were abusive to each other, abusive to me, it was a nightmare house of violence that could erupt at any moment. And still I prayed for God to step in. Being Catholic, of course I prayed to The Virgin Mary...she was a mom, right, she would help me.
Then came the realization that either God didn't care - I wasn't important enough for him to waste his time on....or he wasn't real at all. The latter seemed unlikely since everyone around me believed in God. So, obviously I wasn't worth help and obviously deserved the violence, the stress, the knowledge that my parents didn't want me around, especially my mother.
When I was older (late teens/early twenties) I had given up on asking God for help long before. Then I started doing some studying and really picking apart what I had been taught. Over time I realized there most likely no god at all. Then I spent some years trying to prove to myself there was. Then I got to the point where I am good with the knowledge that there is no god, never was, never will be.
If somehow, (s)he showed up I would have to ask, "What the hell?" "What could I have possibly done as a child to deserve what I went through?" "And where the fuck were you when I was pleading for help?"
Praise that...worship that? Not happening Captain.
