Afraid of the Dark

When the lights turned out last night, I started crying. I am afraid of the dark, but the person with whom I was sharing space with does not sleep with lights on, and he has already been accommodating by agreeing to let me keep a fan running (I also cannot, let me repeat, cannot sleep in silence). The lights went out, and I closed my eyes, because for some reason if I close my eyes tight, it doesn't feel as scary. Then I started crying.

I believe there has got to be something symbolic about me feeling safer while closing my eyes while it's pitch black.  It makes no logical sense - it's just as dark.  But for some reason, in my child brain, if I don't see the monsters, then they aren't there. My grown-up brain knows better.

If I don't open my eyes and face what is in front of me, then I will be stuck with my eyes closed forever. I won't be able to see the sun come up. I know this. But for the time being, I just can't seem to open my eyes long enough to let them adjust to the loss of light. I cried more.

How does one keep their eyes open long enough to adjust when it is so scary? I am afraid I am going to explode with grief. Like there is just too much to face - it feels better under the covers with my eyes closed tightly, body clenched, and breath held. Dearest reader, do we ever grow up? Are we ever without fear?

I think I'll go back under the covers for a while.

Faith

I had my first question of faith at 17 years young. I remember the physical sensation of a plug being ripped out of my gut, and all light, hope, and life, just drained out of me. And when the last drop was gone, I was filled with incredible fear and anxiety. What had happened? Where was God? Who was I? What was the point of all this? The flood of questions struck my in the face with the severity of a slap. Each one, over and over.

I tried doing the same things - go to church, pray, read my bible... but it didn't feel the same. Now I am wondering about that famous quote about insanity - doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Well, things were never the same.  For the first time in my life, I was wandering through a dark period of doubt. A few years went by, college, marriage... it seemed as though faith reappeared.

Throughout my twenty's, I dabbled in different ideas of religion... Wiccan, Buddhism, Tantra, Goddess Worship, Christianity. I would ebb and flow throughout all of them, and I appreciated the groundlessness that was my exploration. I refused to let any of them define me. I saw what religion did to people that let it define them, and those people scared me. Perhaps it was their certainty that they were right, and I was wrong, or likely more accurate, I was afraid I would have to give something up if I wanted to fully commit.  There were so many valuable things in each one of the new faiths that I experienced.

Wiccan brought me wisdom of Mother Earth, Buddhism taught me compassion for self, Tantra taught me that pleasure and life go hand in hand, Goddess worship gave me the female side of God that I hadn't ever experienced before, and Christianity taught me about forgiveness and love... How could I deny any of them? I struggle with this daily. What do you do, gentle reader?

Today I am, once again, facing a complete loss of faith. I am wondering what the point of all of this is? Why don't we just all kill ourselves off? We are all on our way to dust anyways. Is it just our fear that keeps us from doing it? I can't seem to grasp the idea that we are all going to be alright in the end. I just fear the non-existence. I struggle with the thought of "why was I even born?" - why do I have to think these horrible thoughts?

Please, share with me your stories of faith. I need your stories.