I said, "I have been through hell and high water since then. I am going to try to compose a Post on this, but suffice to say, It can be a gut wrenching journey."
You said, "dont rush it, seriously.Whenever it's posted, I'm interested in reading..."
I became a "Provisional Deist" somewhere between the age of seven and nine years old. Looking back, I can see that it happened through a series of progressions and insights that I had while reading through the bible. I was then, and remain somewhat, a proliferate reader.
I was a born skeptic and my Mother is pissed about this to this very day. I didn't believe in Santa Claus from the first moment that I remember cogitating on the idea; yet later I helped her perpetuate the myth to my younger sisters. Mom made me "swear" that I would not ruin the fun for them. Those two sisters, who I still love and communicate with regularly, were my first "clinical study" subjects.
I even would do things like look out the window and say that "I think I see Santa's sleigh," and they would run over and declare that they thought they saw it too!
It gets worse from there. I became an agnostic. My Dad was totally understanding on that and even threw some Bertrand Russell quotes my way (BR was a contemporary of my Father,) but my Mom was problomatic in that regard. Don't worry though because I found a way to edify her beliefs with my own and that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
This feeble attempt to describe my journey is a perfect example of "everything I write is not enough." I will attempt to flesh out my experience.
I described myself as a "provisional deist for 23 years. On 9/12/01 I became an atheist."
Wars are fought over dogma, and this attack was no different. I just made up my mind that day that Religion is an "Engine of Grief."
An Engine of Grief