Having had a spectacular fallout with God in March (seven months and this blasphemer is still breathing, how could it be?!) detailed in my post here , I've not noticed much difference, except for two quite linked things (or one thing that has led to another thing). First of all, I've again lost the naieve idealism that I used to have and was able to hold on to quite well. Yes, I always was a bitter, sarcastic nut who would sulk in the corners of parties but now I'm even more of one, and most people who know me realise that I vent my pessimism via sarcasm. But then again if you guys are still reading my blog, I'd guess you're the friends who've managed to put up with most of the shit I've thrown at you, and therefore enjoy me pouring buckets of slimy sarcastic comments onto you. Or not, but who cares? Like I actually need somebody to read this crap.
Going back to the main point, the second thing I've noticed is that I've lost a big source of hope that I used to be able to tap into. Having "God" or at least an idea of him (her?) around to comfort me was always a reassuring feeling that I could fall back on if I had a really bad day and simply didn't understand what was going on. Hoping that there was a cosmic wheel of justice and kindness works wonders for the soul, but then when the wheel keeps breaking down over and over again one begins to question whether it even existed in the first place.
I feel a lot more alone out there, and lonely. I've always loved being alone, but then being lonely isn't quite the same. I remember Grandpa telling me that you can be alone without being lonely, and now I know what he means. Being alone means that nobody else is around (which you may actually enjoy), but being lonely means that you want someone around, and very frequently someone specific, someone whom you can relate to and converse with and talk about random ideas that come to you late at night after that extra cup of tea that you shouldn't have taken. And obviously nobody would be around you all the time unless you were joined at the hip, and I'm far from finding anyone who remotely approaches that.
But yes, I am alone, alone and exposed. And lonely, especially after I stopped believing the voice in my head was God and started thinking that it was actually just me talking to myself. And then I stopped talking to myself because it felt slightly schizophrenic, and ever since then being alone has never really been the same. And I'm annoyed for it, hence the frantic typing that I'm doing today.
I'm beginning to wonder how atheists cope with all that pressure in their minds, with no fictional person to vent to. Should I go join an angry venting club where I can call anyone at anytime and just talk? That's silly. No, I'd rather go talk to the other consciousness in my head, even if it does seem weird that I'm talking to myself. But wasn't that what I was doing all along? Me writing all this crap here may never reach an audience, but now that I've committed it to html I somehow feel that my abstract idea has become solid and real. Some would call this prayer, but since when could people not just think to themselves quietly? That at least, nobody has a monopoly on.