Prayer: Biggest Hope and The Biggest Disappointment
December 9, 2014 at 11:27 pm
(This post was last modified: December 9, 2014 at 11:28 pm by LivingNumbers6.626.)
I have extremely vivid memories of prayer. I owe many memories to prayer. It was a practice during fun times, sad times, and sacred times. It was even something to do just because or because as a Mormon, I should always have a "prayer in my heart."
Man, was I great prayer. I had absolutely lived it to a T. I prayed morning and night, on the way to work, to school, before tests, after tests, before sports matches, after sports matches, when seeing someone in need, at church...just whenever, where ever.
I don't mean to be arrogant but I was very, very good at praying...which is a huge part to blame for my disbelief.
Besides two events which are probably most definable as dissociation due to sever mental strife, all my time in prayer there was NEVER an exalting or elevated feeling. I felt no spirit. I saw no angels. And silly Jeebus and his Daddy never came down to see me.
If prayer worked, healed me of my mental health, healed me of my physical limitations and diseases, made me feel like I "knew" some "god"...then I would not be an atheist.
Sometimes it hurts to think about how much hope I placed into prayer and how much a disappointment it became. A lot of my insecurities came from prayer and my "oh poor me, victim me" was just perpetuated through it. It prevented me from becoming an autonomous individual.
I literally thought: God will do the work for me, just how everyone says "if it weren't for God I would be who I am, have what I have, and be happy like I am happy."
God was supposed to make me better, make me feel better, and give me cool shit, man. But nothing...
Though it's been a difficult 12 months...I am finally learning the importance of self advocacy and self soothing techniques.
I pray to myself, now...well, when I manage to. I tell myself "I am safe, I am calm, and I am in control of the situation."
I praise my body, my vessel, my "temple." I say to myself "I love me, I love myself though I am a little chubby. This body has carried my crazy mind for 21 years, has allowed me to play sports, be active, and work."
I thank myself all the time: "hey self, thanks for waking up today and being kind to yourself. Way to go man."
I comfort myself: "self, it's going to be okay. Just focus on the task for the next thirty minutes. All is well, all will be well."
All this is still difficult to do, but so important. I never learned to do this naturally since I was so focused on a higher power that was supposed to do this for me. Luckily, after some time and more healing, I hope to be an independent, self sufficient being.
So yes, prayer was a depressing disappointment, but there is a better method...glad psychology exists to identify these methods.
Man, was I great prayer. I had absolutely lived it to a T. I prayed morning and night, on the way to work, to school, before tests, after tests, before sports matches, after sports matches, when seeing someone in need, at church...just whenever, where ever.
I don't mean to be arrogant but I was very, very good at praying...which is a huge part to blame for my disbelief.
Besides two events which are probably most definable as dissociation due to sever mental strife, all my time in prayer there was NEVER an exalting or elevated feeling. I felt no spirit. I saw no angels. And silly Jeebus and his Daddy never came down to see me.
If prayer worked, healed me of my mental health, healed me of my physical limitations and diseases, made me feel like I "knew" some "god"...then I would not be an atheist.
Sometimes it hurts to think about how much hope I placed into prayer and how much a disappointment it became. A lot of my insecurities came from prayer and my "oh poor me, victim me" was just perpetuated through it. It prevented me from becoming an autonomous individual.
I literally thought: God will do the work for me, just how everyone says "if it weren't for God I would be who I am, have what I have, and be happy like I am happy."
God was supposed to make me better, make me feel better, and give me cool shit, man. But nothing...
Though it's been a difficult 12 months...I am finally learning the importance of self advocacy and self soothing techniques.
I pray to myself, now...well, when I manage to. I tell myself "I am safe, I am calm, and I am in control of the situation."
I praise my body, my vessel, my "temple." I say to myself "I love me, I love myself though I am a little chubby. This body has carried my crazy mind for 21 years, has allowed me to play sports, be active, and work."
I thank myself all the time: "hey self, thanks for waking up today and being kind to yourself. Way to go man."
I comfort myself: "self, it's going to be okay. Just focus on the task for the next thirty minutes. All is well, all will be well."
All this is still difficult to do, but so important. I never learned to do this naturally since I was so focused on a higher power that was supposed to do this for me. Luckily, after some time and more healing, I hope to be an independent, self sufficient being.
So yes, prayer was a depressing disappointment, but there is a better method...glad psychology exists to identify these methods.
"Just call me Bruce Wayne. I'd rather be Batman."
