I’m not religious. I don’t believe in God or Allah or Buddha. Well, maybe I do. Maybe I believe in all of them and that’s the problem.
I was brought up Catholic – mum was a kind of average Holy Joe who had been brought up by a staunch old- school Catholic mother. My gran threw her eldest daughter out when she got pregnant out of wedlock and nearly choked on her rosaries when my mum married a *whisper* protestant. When she passed away, we were no longer forced to go to church and I found myself separating from religion all together.
I’d like to think I still believe in Heaven, but then I also kind of like the idea of reincarnation. And ghosts. Can you believe in a ghost if you’re Catholic? I’m fascinated by Norse Gods but I also believe in evolution and aliens too so I guess I’m constantly juggling conflicting ideas. Or maybe I’m too swayed by Netflix conspiracy shows that “prove” the existence of all these things.
But the one thing that always comes back to me – and I’m sure even the people with strong faith must struggle with it too – is the inevitable question. “Why us?”
Why; if there is a God, does he let drug addicts have babies while 5 of mine have been taken before they’ve even had a chance at life? Why, when I’ve tried to be a good person (underage drinking at the local park aside) do I feel like I’m being punished for something? Why me?
I’ve made my peace now with whatever my outcome will be but, I think I’ll always ask myself that question. Why did it have to happen to me?