Since I have experienced my fallen mental capacity I have struggled with the desire to find hope in something, even the religion I rejected. This desire brought me to tears, trying to shoehorn my mind into the structure of Christian fundamentalism, albeit the more sentimental and loving kind I knew towards the end. Despite this desire for peace and hope, I found something curious and wholly ironic: I no longer feared it was right, and had no inkling of faith that anything could be gained from prayer. Even with the unanswered questions about my existence which plagued my mind when I trudged through them relentlessly, without rest.
It wasn't just the fact that I had looked at things like prayer studies or that from past rational intellectual pursuits I had rendered answered prayers little more than statistically insignificant certainties; it wasn't just my year or so of complete and utter rebellious rejection of the faith I despised. This all was by the wayside of my mind of course, but I had realized I no longer had the capability of faith in such things. My methodologically constructed thought patterns, though inaccessible and unintelligible at this point, had been embedded enough to the point that they now were de facto perceptual truths.
That even though I had tirelessly and relentlessly battered away at each and every doubt, or paranoid event in my attempt in breaking free of my mental agony, I had in fact already been fully integrated into a fully naturalistic mindset. In short, I realized that now when I would think belief would be easy, given that I feared it being true so much before, it was not there. Oh how tragic an irony, that my agonizing only ended after my mind had been so incapacitated by abuse, and that the peace I had fought for through constant mental strife came after I had let go. I know this kind of peace from when my mental well-being was more in my grasp, before I aspired to break through my problems through sheer mental ingenuity, when I could let go of the fears in non-judgmental indifference.
Oh the irony. When I stopped and finally felt no other option than to succumb to my religious mental background, without the fear of being dragged down unwillingly, I could not believe even if I wanted to. When I had finally given up my struggle, there was nothing to fall back into.
Moreover, even thinking that Christianity might be true, in my infantile desire to find some modicum of dignity or hope given how well emaciated my mental powers and short-term memory were, I could not stomach nor embrace the morality of Christianity. It was no longer a matter of rebellion against a perceived injustice or tyrant, I just did not see them that brand of morality as being feasible. No fear, no rebellious fighting for autonomy, only perception of how fundamentally immoral Christian morality really was to me, even if only at a gut level. Even with my logical mind so hobbled, I still could not come to believe that God was what Christianity said it should be.
I could not have fear evolution being wrong; there was no fear there. I merely found it more logical in many aspects. Of course the issue of human intelligence and dominance still were still a salient issue for me, it was not enough to make me think that we weren't related to our ape cousins.
So here I am. Without hope, without even some delusion of faith to keep me feeling like I still had hope for a happy life given how unproductive I was in my everyday life. No, I could not feel the love the Jesus even putting aside all of the problems about Christianity; the belief was just simply gone. I can't learn new things, I struggle to remember facts I learned in school, I am a husk of the person I'd need to be to feel satisfied with life and here I am: unable to find any comfort or ability to believe despite it being only last option. Not being able to reject homosexuality (not wanting to, nor intellectually being able to do so), not believing misogynistic tendencies to be acceptable, nor probable, aspects of any god. I am left with my prior conclusions (about an atheistic universe), "wanting" because of sheer hopelessness and the defunct nature of my brain to believe in something I couldn't.