Absolutely. There are studies that found that
the actively religious are generally happier people. Unfortunately I just can't bring myself to believe in something that has no real evidence. I just can't have faith. I hate it.
Not reacting to you, having an internal response to your words.
People on drugs are happy, too, until they stop having the desired effects or take them too far from being able to function in reality. I'd like to see brain scan comparisons of people on drugs vs those happy religious people.
I don't know which is worse, not having faith in something that isn't real yet free of a false foundation, or not having a foundation in the revealed reality. I don't know what to do without illusions. I didn't want them, but now that I'm free of them, free of false hopelessness...is that part of being human? Are humans fucked without lies?
I'm in existential crisis tonight. It's a bitch. Like every major philosopher since recorded philosophy seems to have come to (not that I'm claiming to be one), the answer is that there are no answers. Humans seem to need a sense of certainty and security in order to thrive; does that mean even that thriving is at the cost of being disabled in some other way, like through the sensory filtering of religion? It's a false lens through which to see the world and what created it and what comes after death, but how does one function when they take off the lens, can see more, and see there is no foundation and no protection? What sensory filter/drug am I still on that I'm still going? Why is it that the point is that there is no point? I don't hate being intelligent or analytical, I am glad to be free of religion and illusions, and I don't wish to be stupid and therefore more blissed, but the lies were more satisfying while I believed them. I guess Buddha was right when he said that enjoying suffering was not freedom from suffering, but I'm still suffering, and without the cushions. Perhaps I'm more alive, and alive sucks. Not knowing what comes next, and knowing that I don't know is stark, not comforting. What's the point of consciousness if it ends? What caused life to spark, when life needs to feed off of other life to keep going? Life is an inherent killer. Why consciousness if consciousness can't comprehend no longer being conscious? At least I can't yet comprehend it. When I do, I imagine if I feel comfort, that will be an illusion, too.
Now I have to make fun of myself: I'm just too complex!
*huff, dramatically walk away, probably trip on something on the way out, fall on my ass and get a damn hematoma