Freedomain Radio

I know this is a really long post, but it was a major event in my life and would greatly appreciate some feedback. I'm new here -- I have made some introductory posts in the appropriate forums.


I had the most mind blowing conversation with my mom last night. It ended up with me yelling at the top of my lungs in a glorious broadcast of my true-self right into the center of her god-cage. I'll start off with a bit of background info, but please feel free to skip ahead to the juicier parts.

It was her birthday so I "felt obligated" to call her. I don't know if I've ever had a real conversation with her in my true-self as an adult. I'm 47 and she's 80 but quite physically healthy. She used to be christian-religious (lutheren, baptist), but now just a believer on her own without a church or group. For a few years when I was in my early teens, she met with some more radicl private religious groups in people's homes where they would speak in tongues. I knew (or felt) that it was taboo to start challenging her on her belief in god.

It should come as no surprise that I waited till an hour before her bedtime to call her. Obligation is not much of an inspiration. The conversation went as expected at first, the normal bull, but then she started talking about the government which is something I actually can talk to her about. She has read some of Steph's LRockwell articles, (gun in the room, maybe a DRO one) so we went on about politics for a while with my usual pontifications on how government can only do harm to society, etc.

I had been listening to some of the de-foo podcasts recently and reading some forum posts on the subject, then podcast 317 really rang true with me (Escaping corruption, a foggy cage). Still, I didn't know how becoming vulnerable and attempting to talk about something that is actually meaningful to me would manifest with my mom. I then did a scary thing and admitted that I had been reading (and listening) to things about atheism.

I told her that I had found logic and reason in atheism. She responded in a calm manner, not feeling challenged, but in a way which gently tried to assert that god is real and that I can have a relationship with him. So I asked how do I start this relationship? Why doesn't he initiate it? Why do I have to initiate it? She said I have to look inside and search for him. I have to want the love and peace that he provides and then wait for him to respond. 

OK, I know what peace and love feels like, I have felt it, in fact, I have been wanting love and peace for 47 years. I have also waited for 47 years, and no god has shown up. She said, "he will, I know he will." She also said that god is the source of my life, of all life. He is in me and has always been in me. We went on and on with various avenues and flavors of what god is and how to have a relationship with him and what that means, while I persistently demonstrated how nonsensical each of her assertions was. Much of it centered around this notion of having a "relationship with god."

So then I said when I was a teenager, after the divorce, when I went through the deepest darkest despair and depression of my life, having minor thoughts of suicide, really the pits, absolutely no joy, no love, no peace, just depression and misery -- when I was in this state for so many times for all those years, god was there watching me and saw every second of my misery and never once did he reveal himself to me and say, "it's alright, I'm here with you, it's ok, I'm here to comfort you..." Never once did he ever lift a finger to help me. When I needed him the most to comfort me, when he was right there as you say, more than capable of helping me, more than capable of comforting me, never once did he appear to help. Never!

I got real passionate at this point. This really struck a nerve or something in me. I got totally fired up and began furiously making this point of neglect from god. I happened to be in downtown Austin in the entertainment district around 10 PM, pacing up and down the sidewalks with the phone to my ear and by this time I was yelling at the top of my lungs with people in the streets, hearing my voice echo off the buildings across the street as I literally screamed "WHERE WAS GOD WHEN I NEEDED HIM THE MOST!!!!!???? WHERE THE F..CK WAS HE? IN MY DARKEST DESPAIR, HE SAT THERE -- HE WAS RIGHT THERE, WASN'T HE? YOU SAID SO. HE SAT THERE AND WATCHED ME SUFFER HORRIBLY AND HE DID NOTHING. HE DID NOTHING. WELL F..CK YOU GOD. F..CK YOU. YOU SUCK. F..CK YOU!!!!

Still yelling, I asked my mom, where was he? And I stopped and waited for an answer, and without missing a beat, she said: "Did you ask him?"

This just blew my mind. This absolutely shattered my world with my mom. She actually said that. I spent the next 30 to 45 minutes trying to get her to realize what she had just said. I couldn't believe it. I had to ASK god. While I was there writhing in despair, in abject misery, while he sat there right next to me, inside me even, and watched for hours, weeks, months, years, I had to ASK him to comfort me.

I then used an analogy: I said it would be as if you walked down the hall (she lives in a dorm style living situation) and saw your friend writhing on the floor in convulsions, about to die, and you stood there and watched and then walked away and did nothing. You did nothing because she didn't ask for help.

And you expect me to go out of my way to initiate a relationship with this thing, this being, this "father" as you say, this "benevolent" being? You expect me to even have the desire to start a relationship with this horrible being who just let me suffer because I didn't ASK him?

Mom, do you know what this means? If you want me to have a relationship with this god, this one that I'm talking about, the same one you talk about, your god, the one that's been in me as you said all my life, giving me my life, this god who betrayed me in the worst possible way that anyone can possibly betray me. If you want me to have a relationship with this guy, than you can't possibly care about me.

After repeating this several times, I could see she wasn't getting it. Then I said: tomorrow, if a friend of yours asks you how your son feels about god, what would you tell her? She said, again, without missing a beat, "he's still searching for him." I said, mom, you don't care about me. You don't. You just don't. After all that I have been telling you, telling you for the first time in my life how I suffered depression as a teenager, after screaming at the top of my lungs in anger at the injustice of god to the point where I can barely talk anymore, after telling god fuck you, you suck, after all that, you're going to tell your friend "I'm still searching" for him?

Holy shit.

I said to her, listen, I'm sorry this had to turn out this way on your birthday, but I want you to think about this. This is new stuff and I've heaped it on you in a big pile all at once. I want you to think about what I said about god betraying me as a teenager and how you say I should want to seek a relationship with him. I'm going to call you in a few days or a week and then I'll ask how can you recommend that I seek a relationship with someone who sat there, perfectly able to help me, who sat there and let me suffer for years and never once lifted a finger to comfort me. If you then say that I should seek a relationship with this fuckhead, then I'll know without a doubt that you don't care about me. I then said goodbye and hung up.

None of this was planned. I felt kind of blown away that it happened like it did. But it definitely felt real. It was not fake. I was not making anything up. I was telling my truth. I came out pretty ugly for a while, but it was how I really felt. Yeah, god really does suck, if he exists. But he doesn't. I was right: I remember when I was a young boy and being told by my mom about god and saying, "if he can do all those miracles, why doesn't he heal all the sick and stop the wars?" I never got a good answer for this. The logic and rationality of a child is real.

Anyway, the phone call to my mom felt good, and it wasn't about god.


I don't know where my relationship with my mom will go from here. I think I'll email her instead of talking on the phone, as I usually get quite passionate and start raising my voice when I start talking about these things. think it will be easier to spell out and demonstrate the irrationality of her beliefs in writing, and I'll be able to see in black and white how insane she is with this god-belief stuff.

I'm quite new in all this true self/false self atheistic no-government DRO world. I have since been having some feelings of remorse/guilt/uncertainty for the anger in which I delivered my truth. I'm sure this is false-self stuff, but maybe some of you have had similar feelings or have insights.

-- Uncle Bob 

Fantastic, well done, what an amazing conversation!

Tell me more what you mean when you say that the conversation was not about God... 

I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about the conversation. This morning or last night I listened to 665 and 666 (Be nice, freedom from others) where you said in effect "stand your ground fiercely but talk gently." Well, I wasn't very gentle to say the least. I vented rage in a big way.

So I've been asking myself what was the rage about? Wast it at my mom? Was it at the shear madness of defending the folly of god with what I thought was an ironclad argument? Was it from my past as the youngest child being stifled and scoffed at and generally put down by my older brothers?

 I do know that I have a tendency to become excited, even angry, at least start raising my voice when I feel I am right about something and I'm having a somewhat difficult time convincing someone. My idea doesn't even have to be opposed by anyone, just if I think it might be opposed, I will often put too much fire behind what I'm saying. This has happened at work where I once suggest a refactoring to our project (I'm a software developer) and I felt myself get defensive long before anyone had a chance to resist.

 I wrote this post shortly after the conversation. I think I felt it was not about god, it was about me. About me and my mom. It seemed clear to me then, but not as much now. I'm trying to figure out if my rage was appropriate or not. Or was it a lack of freedom on my part, fiercely standing my ground, but not talking gently.

After 665 and 666 (I'm still on 666), I felt that I could or should have made my point to my mom without the rage so I wrote her an email apologizing for my anger. I did not attempt to re-argue the debate.

I see bright light in your philosophy, but putting it into practice can get a bit foggy, as I have my own stuff to get through that seems to complicate things. I'd like to avoid acting out on impulses based on scar tissue during my journey to discovering my own truth.

It's only been a week or so that I've started to come to terms that my relationship with my family is mostly out of obligation or social convention.


 

Is there anything you were angry at about God that you are not also angry about your mother?

Have a look at your first post and let me know what you think... 

Stefan Molyneux:

Is there anything you were angry at about God that you are not also angry about your mother?

Have a look at your first post and let me know what you think... 

I've been thinking about this. I'll need some time to think and reflect... 

If I saw you on the street pacing up and down and screaming about that we could have started a riot together. I love this quote from Tori Amos, "So you are a Superstar, Get off the cross we need the wood.

I think you did great even though it was a long time ago...good job Uncle Bob!