Atheist Me

(Via James)

From the time I was born until I was about ten or so, my family was devoutly christian. I recall going to church and enjoying it, I would even sing at my grandparents church (my grandfather was a pastor). I was never particularly devout though, far to young to fathom such concepts as the Universe and God, as I believe most children are.

It wasn't until later in life, after we had moved from the city to the country, and stopped attending church, that I started wondering about faith. I recall in the fifth and sixth grade still wondering about god, I still tried to be as good a christian as I could, although I didn't fully know what it meant to be one.

Around the end of sixth grade my mother started becoming an alcoholic and with it came the fights. Her and my Dad would argue and argue. She would leave for the bar and sometimes not come back for days. Sometimes my dad would bring her home and beat her. Her behavior grew worse and worse over the years from sixth grade onwards.

Surprisingly this somehow made me more devout. I would try to read the bible. I would try to understand why god would make my world like this. Just a test? I recall theorizing that god did this as a test, everything was a test to see if you were worthy of heaven. I remember becoming so faithful that I could shrug off fear, knowing that my life was in gods hands and if it was my time it was my time.

I recall the night I stopped believing very clearly. I was lying in bed crying because of a terrible fight my parents were in. They were hitting each other, throwing things, screaming at one another. I knew all of my younger siblings were being tortured by this just as much as me. I was only 13 or 14 at the time. Being the oldest I wanted to do something but I couldn't. I was too small, too weak.

So I started praying. I recall clasping my hands together so tightly they hurt, as if squeezing them tighter would help send my message. I asked god to please please stop my parent's fighting, not for me but for my two little sisters and little brother. I begged and begged and begged.

After a while of this I finally realized that God was going to do nothing. If he was there, he did not care for my families plights. I was heartbroken, how could such a loving caring being as the christian God forsake me? How could he forsake my completely innocent siblings?

After that night I began wondering more and more why there was so much suffering on the planet if God "cared and loved so much". I became a horrible pessimist in my godless world. Gone were my blissful feelings of fearlessness and faith. I felt hate and anger.

That has healed over the years and I am now a peaceful atheist, but vehemently anti-religious. I think religion is a horrible delusion that is abused by the powerful to control, inflicted upon unwitting children, and maintained, fueled, and strengthened by ignorance.