Eight Days into the New Year
/I’m not sure what will come from me sitting down at my laptop and writing straight from my brain for the first time in a long time. Hell, it might be a random stream of consciousness that makes no sense to me or anyone else.
2022. I can’t believe it’s the year 2022. I can’t believe I’m thirty-two years old. Most of the time I still feel like I’m 17.
The truth is, I’ve always been a cynic. It’s hard to believe in good things when the world and the media shows you nothing but the terrible. I’m trying though, I’ve been trying my hardest not to be as negative. I’ve been trying to hold out hope for the world, for my life, for the lives of those around me. It’s hard. The last two years have been brutal. The pandemic, the anxiety, the depression. It sinks us deeper and deeper with every minute we have to sit in our houses. Especially on those of us who were already dealing with anxiety and depression before 2020.
I’ve always had a weird thing with death. I don’t want to call it an obsession because it doesn’t run my life. But there are times when it runs my thoughts for longer than I’d like. I’m not saying I’m suicidal. I’m not. In fact, I’m exactly the opposite. I’m absolutely terrified of death. Or maybe it’s not the act of dying I’m terrified of but the thought of what happens next.
Growing up Catholic, I was told “be good, you’ll go to heaven”. Well, I stopped believing in God when I was around 13/14. Where does that leave those of us who gave up on religion and higher powers? I’ll tell you where it leaves me: lying in bed every night thinking of this ultimate darkness. This big empty space.
Most of my friends are atheists and they’re very rational and logical in their thinking. They believe when you die, that’s it, you cease to exist, you’re in the ground. The end. That way of thinking scares the shit out of me. How can it be possible that we go through all of this pain and heartbreak in life and all we get at the end of it is nothing? What was the point?
Is there a point?
I know I’ve talked about this before. My lack of faith, my fear of nothingness. However, with the pandemic, and the shootings running rampant in Philadelphia, it’s on my mind a lot more than I’d like. Those shootings, those sudden deaths, I have a hard time reconciling those in my mind. Those people are standing on the street, talking, laughing with their friends and the next second, they’re gone. How does anyone deal with this?
Most people probably don’t think about it as often as I do. Most people can distract themselves. Unfortunately, I’m not most people. Once my brain latches onto an idea, it takes a near miracle for me not to run it through my mind until I’ve thought of every possible scenario. I genuinely envy people who have faith. Whatever they have faith in, whatever their religion is, I envy how they can believe it and trust it completely.
One person in particular comes to my mind. Late-night host Stephen Colbert. Stephen has always been vocal about his belief in God. He’s also someone who has been through true tragedy in his life. I love listening to him talk to other celebrities who think differently than he does. Ricky Gervais is a very outspoken atheist. Andrew Garfield seems to more on a spiritual level and has the belief that we’ll never know anything for sure. Stephen is never judgmental towards these people. He’s open and his discussions with them are thoughtful and honest. If only we could all speak to each other with the same level of respect.
I guess I’m wondering, if you’ve given up on organized religion and the idea of a one true “God”, what else can you have faith in? When people ask me if I’m religious or if I still follow Catholicism, I say I’m not religious, but I like to believe I’m spiritual. This is true. I might not believe in pearly gates or saints or angels or whatever else the Bible publicizes but I do believe the people we’ve lost aren’t completely gone. I think I have to believe this. I have to believe the family I’ve lost is still around.
Is it enough though? Is a vague belief in spirituality enough to push me through? Is it enough to keep me going? Is it enough to calm my mind at the end of the day? Is it enough to believe when I’m gone that I won’t be completely gone? Is that how I’m going to make the idea of death okay? Sixteen years of Catholic school and thirty-two years on this planet and I still have no idea.
Rationally, I know none of this matters. Not in the grand scheme of things because once we’re gone, none of this debate, none of this wondering will mean anything. I have no control over any of this. Which is probably why I’m so fixated on trying to understand. I don’t do well when things are out of my control.
What matters, what truly matters, is what we do on this earth while we have the time. I know this, logically. But how much time do we have left? How much time do we spend doing frivolous things? Or maybe nothing is frivolous if it’s something you enjoy. I enjoy going to the movies, I’m not changing the world, but I’m happy in those two hours in a darkened theater. Is that okay? It has to be, right? It’s my life and it is literally the only one I have so shouldn’t I fill it with things I love? Or should we be filling our lives by doing for others or trying to make small changes in the world?
Perhaps it’s both. In doing for others, in making those small changes, you can also find happiness within yourself.
The truth is, I have no idea why we’re here. Or where we’ll be when we leave. Sometimes that unknown won’t let me sleep at night.
I apologize if I’ve sent some of you into an existential crisis on this Saturday morning, eight days into the new year. However, I’m also unapologetic because I know I can’t be alone in all of this. If my questioning makes you feel less alone then I’m glad I wrote this. I’m also glad I wrote this because it means it’s out of my head for a while and I can go on with my day.
If you want to share your thoughts on these topics, please feel free to do so in the comment section. If you do have faith, if you do believe in something bigger than yourself, please hold onto it. Take comfort in it. Never let it go because once you do, it’s incredibly difficult to try and find it again.