Adrift

Lobster boats in the fog, Lands End, ME

When I was 11 or 12 years old, we were going to a small christian fundamentalist church about 4 times a week. It was meeting in the chapel of a local college and there were no other kids my age. Actually, there were seldom any other kids and maybe two dozen adults on a crowded Sunday. I was the kind of kid in need of approval and acceptance, so I tended to latch on to any friendly adult who'd put up with me.

One younger couple, with no kids of their own, took me under their wing. She taught me a few songs on the piano, he taught me stupid jokes. When there were enough kids at church to warrant it, they were Sunday school teachers. I confided in them, in her especially, and I trusted them.

I trusted them so much that when I started having what I now know were minor auditory and visual hallucinations, it was to them that I nervously confessed. "I think something is wrong with my head. I think I might be having a nervous breakdown." Of course, I didn't even know what that really meant, not back then.

Her eyes went cold and her face pinched closed. "It's a demon," she told me. "The Bible says God won't give us more than we can bear. You have a demon in your head. You let it in somehow. You need to pray."

Fast forward 7 or 8 years, and I'm sitting in the office of my college psychology professor.

Since that day all those years ago, I'd been careful to keep my "demons" to myself. I told people that I dropped out of my first college after a month and a half because the brand of Christianity they preached was too liberal. Too much love, not enough hellfire. The truth was I'd suffered a complete disconnect from reality. I saw things, terrifying things. I heard voices. I stopped sleeping. I dropped out and went to a hyper-strict fundie college.

I prayed as hard as I could, and I read the Bible, and I pretended I wasn't walking through nightmares every second of the day. I found a verse that "spoke" to me and I wrapped myself in it. "No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it."

And that worked, until I found myself curled up on some bathroom floor with a razor blade.

A way of escape.

Days later, I showed my psychology professor -- also the head guidance counselor for the school -- my wrist. "Help me. Please."

He turned his face away. I still remember how he turned away from me. "I can't help you. You need to pray, girl." Then he asked me to leave his office.

I don't really remember what happened after that. I know it hurt. I know a week or so later I was home and I never did manage another attempt at high learning.

I am godless.

I had the idea, for good or ill, to use Sundays as a dedicated space for "Atheist Share Time." Like in kindergarten

It's important to me, my atheism. As to why, well.. That'll make a good essay, won't it?

A friend shared this video with me today on Facebook. It's hard for me to watch, as it contains images of some of the violence and suffering perpetrated in the name of various gods, as well as other instances of human desperation and suffering that people have justified or excused in the name of their imaginary friends.

Powerful stuff.