When I was younger, I was brought up in a Lutheran-Christian school. Most of my family attends church, and has for as long as I can remember. However, I think that, with my being an only child with an unmarried parent, it kind of made me the kid on the side. That, as well as many other things in my life, have made me reevaluate my religion. I never really did feel that the beliefs held by my family were the same as mine.
In later years, I tried to go back to church. I even tried a different type of church, one where they were more vocal and involved with the church services. However, the whole "speaking in tongues" thing just kind of really turned me off, and was quite unnerving. I'm an introvert and I'm not big on huge, grandiose shows of yelling out and throwing yourself on the ground in praise. In a way, I was forced to that church, by my ex-mother-in-law. She insisted that I needed Christ in my life, and I was brainwashed by her and her son to the point where I believed everything they said and did to me.
Abuse from them turned me even more against religion. I tried and prayed for so many things while within religion, and never, even with working towards things, got what I prayed for. Not even close.
Today, with everything going on, do I miss religion? In a way. I do have to be honest with myself... I wish that I had something to believe in. I do see how blissful some are, in believing that their god is the one and only true god, and that that god will save them and bring them happiness.
In October, I put myself into the hospital, in the mental illness wing. While in there, I started to feel a bit happier, hearing that I wasn't alone. I was evaluated, and found out that I not only have chronic depression, but also generalized anxiety disorder and borderline personality disorder. The first two I wasn't shocked about in the least. However, I had no idea that I had borderline personality disorder. From what the psychiatrist explained, it means, basically, that my moods shift depending on the situation. If something occurs, even if it's small, I can become overjoyed or extremely upset or angry, with no notice.
My medicine was switched, and I've been on a new one since leaving the hospital. The things that I learned in the hospital haven't quite stuck as well as anybody had hoped. I still get depressed quite frequently, even with my medicine. It's been increased, and seemed to work better for a while, but then it goes back to what it was before being increased.
The constant depression and, well, somewhat reoccurring suicidal thoughts are making me wish that I had something, anything, I could truly believe in. I would love to know what being happy would actually feel like. Don't get me wrong.. My husband and my kids do make me happy, as does my crafting, but not deliriously happy, like religion seems to for some.
I guess I just have to continue to search, and hope that I can find something to truly believe in, that might make me that happy.