May be triggering. You're warned.
I've read that faith increases recovery from depression by 70 percent and wonder if there's some sort of equivalent for faith that could have the same effect for nonbelievers. I've tried hypnosis, but every thought of God depresses me.
For a while, faith helped me recover. Now, I still more or less assume there is or probably could be something that evolved into a God based on pure logic. According to my logic, God, if there is one, would be a unification of an infinite number of extraterrestrial societies across an infinitely large and old universe, each of which would have evolved to a point that they would have achieved a technological singularity.
The problem is that this hypothesis gives me not a modicum of hope. If it is incorrect, then everyone in the universe is doomed either to return to nothingness or reincarnate in infinite circles. If it is correct, then God is a goddamn bastard who relishes in our suffering. Yeah, I've heard the cliché that "the world couldn't be perfect," but if every entity were unified with absolutely every possible quale or experience in the universe through infinite love, as God would be, then the universe would effectively be perfect.
However it may be, I could never feel anything but hate for something omnipotent which would allow infinite suffering to happen. If you think that the suffering in the universe isn't that bad, then you haven't seen enough of it.
Last fall, I kept having nightmares of people dying in the most agonizing ways, and lost my faith. Even in my faith, I've seen so much suffering that I couldn't possibly believe anymore. The Universe will just keep letting me suffer even if I go through the deepest levels of hell. The Universe feels dead to me, if not worse, undead — a walking dead. It feels as though the whole Universe is a rotting corpse. If the Universe is so terrible, I cannot imagine any way there could possibly be a meaning to anything at all I might do, and I cannot be more than a fungus feasting on the corpse's flesh. I've become so embittered by the mere existence of suffering in the universe that I cannot believe in anything anymore, and I cannot bring myself to truly love anything or anyone in life. There is only terror left at how random and meaningless everything happens.
I'm sick of not understanding why the universe is so horrible, sick of trying to guess at the answer never to know if it's anywhere close to the truth. I'm sick of living in ignorance and groping in the dark. I'm sick of living in this huge automated machinery that is indifferent for whatever suffering its ticking might happen to bring about.
Unless all suffering that happens to absolutely anyone happens solely by their own choice and THEIR CHOICE ALONE, I cannot forgive life for its crimes. Nor would it make it any less diabolical if suffering was determined by one's expectations or karma. It should be OUR OWN CHOICE ALONE, no matter what, but how could such infinite ordeals possibly be by our own choice? Starvation, parasites, mutilations… Every time I think of such things, I feel the pain as though it were in myself. That's the reason why I've tried not to care about anyone else but myself, because if I do, I can't lock out their torments. Recently I read about bound feet and I can still sometimes feel the crushing of my own feet. It's the schizotypal PD, I suppose. Too vivid an imagination. But should I dampen all my feelings just to be safe? Bah! The very thought makes me cringe.
It would be bearable to know of the suffering in the world if there wasn't any more suffering out there than there is in my own life, the "mediocre" pain of a major clinical depression. But there's plenty more of ordeals that are infinitely worse — dismemberment, disease, torture, murder,… No, if the universe condemns innocents to such infernos without their own choice then I cannot help but scream at its existence in hatred for as long as I continue to exist in any form but rotting meat full of maggots. I cannot help.
There doesn't seem to be any way out of this quandary. I've tried forgetting, but it doesn't help. The thought of how the universe produces so much suffering keeps following me. How can it not? Every time I am in suffering or see anyone else in suffering in any way, or even think of it, I feel that there is nothing that brought it about but randomness! Coincidence! Does nothing care in this prison even when people are in the throes of gruesome deaths? Oops! Mass murder. Oops, someone got its legs blasted off. Oops, someone screaming through the streets in the flames of napalm. Oops, someone groaning with the little lungs left after they've been crushed in the rubble of an earthquake. Oops, impaled from perineum all the way to the neck.
Oops.
Praised be thy name. Hallelujah.
I've banished these thoughts for about five months now, but they merely festered in my subconscious. What do I do? How do I get rid of it? The nihilism, the despair. How can I live with this?