What The Hell Is Wrong With Me?
While most people are enjoying their life in all possible ways, at whatever life stage they are in, at any age, any profession, doing normal ordinary things every day, I’m hounded by questions about the meaning of life, our purpose, who created us and what for and the annoying feeling of being insignificant in the greater scheme of things.
This is not something I started doing in my old age. I remember when I was a kid maybe 6 or 7 years old after calling my mom so many times, I started to think why am I calling her mom? Who decided that she should be called that? Who created this language that I’m speaking? How did all other languages came to be? At that age I had already heard about God, and that he/she was our creator and that God is omnipotent, that he is the ultimate judge and can punish or forgive, that he decides if we go to heaven or hell.
The source of my information was the religion classes that we were taught in our Armenian school, our church and my family. I remember that my mother prayed every nigh before bed but I had never seen dad do the same. I don’t remember either of them talking to me or any of my brothers and sisters about God. We did go to church but not every Sunday. We did celebrate all the Christian holidays. At our church there were no sermons just the religious ceremonies and hymns.
However at some point during my teens I stopped believing in God. The main reason being the Armenian genocide. I could not comprehend and accept that he, the Almighty had let such an injustice happen to the first nation that had accepted Christianity, a nation who’s land was dotted by countless churches and monasteries, a nation who had struggled and sacrificed so much to stay a Christian nation. What kind of god would let that happen? I reasoned that if god existed all the atrocities that happened on Earth would not have happened. As I got older I decided that I am an Atheist and there was no going back.
I have lived a fairly ordinary life, reached all the normal milestones that millions of people reach, I have most of the typical relationships that people have, I’m in no way much different than any other human on this Earth, except that I question everything in life and I’m unable to find satisfactory answers and therefor I can not enjoy my life even though I have a lot to be grateful for. Since nothing seems to make sense, nothing matters. I am in a constant state of apathy.
I exist but I’m not alive.
