Faith has always been sort of strange to me. I cannot recall an honest time where I actually believed in something based on faith alone. The idea of faith to me is believing in something even though you have no empirical evidence of its existence and I honestly cannot remember ever having done that?
Even when I was younger and Santa Claus was a thing to believe in, I had questions that already explained just how honest my disbelief in the intangible was. I can remember that we lived in Florida and we had a fire place, and even though it didn’t get really cold or snow, my mom and dad stoked the fire and I thought… this doesn’t make sense. He was meant to come down the chimney, right? So I asked, hoping for some clarification, and my parents — to their credit they always let us believe in and explore our own thoughts; my parents are the best — told me, to keep that dream alive, that they stayed up and let him in through the door.
Anyone would imagine that’d be enough but I recall just sort of letting myself pretend to believe while I had no actual basis of faith in the story. My imagination ran wild but at the same time, I knew it was all pretend, all make-believe, so I had very little time where I’d actually sit there and believe in my own bullshit, so to speak.
I think that might be why video games and role playing are so good for me. They give me a basis of make-believe that is sort of tangible. I’m actively inside of it at the time and though I realise there is a clear line of separation between the reality of my life and these make-believe scenarios, it sparks my imagination and lets me, for the most sweet of brief moments, escape my head and have it all be quiet.
This isn’t to say that I don’t believe in anything, but as far as the intangible and ‘faith’ based beliefs go — such as religion and such — I just lost any sort of ability to believe in them. I’ve said the sentiments and sweet words that I hope for someone’s sake that it’s true (this was especially used after my mom died, while I told my father I didn’t believe in Heaven or God that I hoped for him it was true; I realise this is stupid and I shouldn’t have done it, but at the same time I couldn’t watch my father grasp for something and not get hold… I might disbelieve but for him I’ll pretend there’s a possibility and I don’t feel guilty about it.)
It’s sort of weird to me, because though we sometimes attended Church when I was younger, we were never what I’d consider a religious family. I believe my father has always been sort of a ‘God exists’ type of person, but I think my mom had periods where she wondered. All of that changed when we moved back to Kentucky and were embroiled in that whole area’s ‘religion is the answer to everything.’ My mom told me once she’d stopped playing a Facebook game because she’d prayed to God that if he saved her friend from cancer she’d stop. I never understood those kinds of deals being made and honestly I called her out on it. I feel a bit guilty in retrospect but I can’t abide by a God who’d take deals in the form of ‘I’ll give this up if you save a good person.’ It’s stupid.
The long and short of it is that I don’t really ever have faith in things. I have belief — sometimes — if things seem somewhat farfetched, but as far as blind faith as it’s presented at most times? I don’t have it. And I wonder if I’m better off having this knowledge or if I’d be happier in the realm of blind faith; is it better for me to have the analytical mind that questions these things in all people. It’s one of those frustrating things that I wonder if being so… whatever you want to call it, makes my dealing with my depression and things all the harder. Meh.