Choosing a Religion, a life story

Before the age of 14, I cannot remember what my thoughts on religion really were. I do not know what I believed. I probably at least thought that I believed in god–there’s a good chance of that. I went to a Southern Baptist private school when I was 14. They insisted that I believe in god. Since there was a boy I liked that believed in god–so did I. When I left that school, my father had been dead for 4 months. I was no longer dating that boy that found god. I met another boy, he said he was atheist. Guess what? I was too! What a coincidence. This went on until I was 20. When I was 20, I went to rehab.

Through the first few years in recovery, it became very apparent that although I may have believed in god, I wanted nothing to do with that business. When I finally got unhappy enough, I accepted someone else’s beliefs and it worked for a couple of years. Then it again became apparent that I did not know what I believed and I was no longer willing to bend to those around me.

I really wanted to believe in god. I really wanted to be Christian. Maybe I wanted to want to be Christian. It would be so much easier, so much more comforting, if I believed that a god had a specific plan and purpose for my life, and that I would live eternally after I died. I just could not get behind this. I tried mixing beliefs. Buddhist beliefs about an afterlife and Christian god. There may be a god, I obviously don’t know for certain. I have been floundering around, becoming fearful of thinking too hard on spiritual beliefs because this always led to death and what happens. I am a controlling person, I like to know what is going to happen to me.

Recently, someone introduced me to Taoism through a recommended book. Next, I heard a women tell her story and she said something about god taking her defects of character away. My mind snapped shut and the levy broke. I went outside with my best friend after and I began talking about how action brings consequence. I cannot ask a divine being to remove a character trait I have and not try to remove it with my actions. Furthermore, if I want to not be a liar anymore, so I stop lying, I feel this was me, not a higher power, changing this. I believe that I am the chess master of my life. I do not believe that there is a being in the sky with a plan for me and I am just fulfilling his desire for my life. That does not make sense to me.

So I admitted this. I admitted that I do not hold with the idea of a divine being. I also admitted that I have been internally struggling with my beliefs for years. I did not realize that I was experiencing so much guilt and shame about not believing, so I just kept trying to talk myself into believing.

I was scared to tell my fiance, he is Christian, as is his family. I told social media first. I remained fearful of the conversation with him.

I told him, he said we need a 4 foot statue of Buddha in the house and also stated that he wants to know more about Buddhism because he doesn’t know much about it.

So now I am in a place where I get to pursue the spiritual path that I want. The more I learn, the more I love the ideas. I can’t not eat meat, that will never happen. That is okay, though. I get to believe whatever I want.

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I Have No Clever Title

If you look at my history, it is clear that I am inconsistent. I am inconsistent in just about everything I do. I am inconsistent in my friendships, I am inconsistent in my parenting. I am inconsistent in my productivity and my motivation. I am inconsistent in my gym habits and my hobbies. I am mostly inconsistent in my mood.

For a long time I was convinced that there is something wrong with me, psychologically. I am a very moody woman. I was a moody child, I was an angry teenager, an angry young adult, and now I am a moody adult. I like what I like, I want what I want, and when those things don’t happen, not only am I moody, sometimes angry, I also am not aware of it.

I’m sure that this is frustrating for anyone that knows me and has to deal with the brunt of my own confusion over how I feel and what I want. Maybe this is just what women are like. Maybe I will always be this way, always wishing to be different than I am. I am a part of a fellowship that tells me that we can always improve, as long as we work hard at it. I’m not sure that it’s true-maybe some things are just who we are. Who I am.

That makes me think of astrology. Astrology is entertaining to me. I’d like to say that I don’t hold faith with astrology, but I do. It links in my mind to the idea that everything in this world is held together by an energy, you can call it GOD, I do for simplicity’s sake, that ebbs and flows. I also like to say that I am not a superstitious person, but I am. Watch me freak out if someone opens an umbrella inside, or warn my children near a mirror. I like to say a lot of things about myself.

I’m terrified that I am developing OCD. I realize that terrified is a very strong word. It is, however, accurate. I have two great fears. One is death, due to my lack of solid belief in an afterlife, and the other is losing control over my psych. If I am developing obsessive compulsive disorder, my fear is that it is the beginning of a long downward spiral into mental illness. Here is what has been going on:

In the morning, after I walk out of my apartment, I have a nagging thought that I have left my straightener on. I have to go back inside to check. This happens almost every morning. Rarely before I walk outside. Sometimes I get all the way to my car. The other day, I got halfway to work. I considered turning around to go back and check. I did not, and it ate at me until I got to work, where I became too busy to think about anything. As soon as I walked back in my apartment door, I went to the bathroom to check. The only way that this does not happen is if I consciously focus on my hand removing the plug from the socket after I straighten my hair. If I routinely left my straightener on, this may be understandable. I’ve done it maybe twice, and not recently.

Another thing that is happening that is making me uncomfortable is the bridge. I live in Houston. If I want to go visit my mother, I must drive over the ship channel bridge. If I am in an inside lane, I get through this just fine. If I am in the outside lane, my heart races, my palms sweat, I am gripping the steering wheel, and avoiding looking to my right until I am all the way over. Okay, so maybe I’m afraid of heights. Which I am. However, I have been driving over this bridge for at least 12 years–this just began a few months ago.

This post is completely unfocused.

My inconsistency is showing.