“God?” Or “god?” Upper or lower case either one – don’t forget the question mark!

I was in a Sociology 101 class, with a variety of freshman, some sophomores, and a few upper classmen. The professor, who routinely smoked cigars while he taught, and was absent during exams, one day spoke about god, and the impossibility of its existence. The professor was baiting and terrorizing the class which consisted primarily of Christians. He was laughing. The students were in an uproar. "How can you say there's a god?" Beatty asked. "How can you say: "I am kicking you because I love you?" The professor laughed so hard his face turned a blush red, while the students raised the noise level another degree. Most of the kids began heading out into the hallway, deciding it was break time. I followed blindly and found myself in a conversation with two young men. I was secretly an atheist myself, I did not outwardly proclaim this to the two kids. My male classmates began talking about god, how great be his holiness, and asserted that the professor must be nuts, crazy. "How can a person be an atheist? Look at the beauty all around us," one of the two argued. I kept it low key: "Maybe he has good reason to be one." Upon uttering these words, the two boys became silent, while the expressions on their faces changed. The last words spoken, as we all re-entered the room, was, "Nobody dies an atheist. Nobody dies an atheist."

I was nineteen years old, I had just become a junior in college. I was at a friend's house, and he and I, and a neighbor, decided to go to a popular bar we had never been to before. The three of us smoked a joint before leaving. It had no effect on me - nothing I could feel. My male friend, Dan, was driving. I knew little of what happened next. I vaguely recall the paramedics trying to pull me out of the car, and I waved them off and told them to leave me alone. I was in shock. I vaguely remembered the ride in the ambulance. I was in and out of death or somewhere in between. I knew that this fluctuation between life and death went on for some time. I knew that at first I had no consciousness at all. The neighbor who came with us rode in the ambulance with me. I had no awareness of her presence. She had only injured her knee and was just along for the ride. I recalled becoming lucid. I knew I was going to die. And this death was mine; it belonged to me; my adventure, my own personal journey, and I needed not share it with anyone. It occurred to me that we all go through our deaths alone. I had no fear whatsoever. I was relaxed, cheerful, even happy. I had not even regret for those I'd leave behind. I remembered the two young men from the class, and their determination that no one dies an atheist. I had thought about that conversation frequently over the past two years. I wondered what it meant, and if it was true .... I decided that I was going to make it wrong - incorrect. I was going to die an atheist. I was too slumped, weak, and injured to speak out loud. But I strongly pronounced in my mind, the words, "There is no god. There's no god whatsoever in this entire Universe. I'm an atheist and I'm going to die an atheist." Then I lay back my head to rest and drifted off into death.

Two weeks later came the court hearing - personal injury. Dan told me to go ahead and file; that he didn't mind, it was okay. I recall sitting at that table, everyone getting ready to begin proceedings. The woman to my right asked me to put my hand on the Bible and speak the words. I looked at the Bible. It was ancient - it appeared to be thousands of years old. I got a strange feeling of an aura, an emanation, perhaps a presence when I looked at that Bible. I was uneasy. Still, I thought I was smarter and more cunning than anyone else and could lie in court if necessary. I put my hand on the Bible and spoke the oath. I promised to tell the truth, nothing but the truth, and began pondering about whether I should lie or not.

I was schizophrenic at the time, but that made no difference. I became aware of an extremely powerful consciousness, a presence of infinite power. I was aware of its intense hatred towards me; I sensed it so strongly, and I knew this entity could destroy me at any instant it so chose. I gave it my total and complete, unwavering respect, or the power of lightning would split me from the top of my head to my feet, and I'd be incinerated instantly, painfully. I used the power of its consciousness to see the world objectively, but the being or entity allowed it only for a few seconds. It was pacifying and exhilarating to know, to see and experience complete untainted reality, not the one in your petty small mind. I gazed around the room to see what other people were thinking - how they were reacting to this powerful consciousness in our midst, and I was surprised to see people talking and carrying on as if nothing was occurring. Schizophrenics don't do that! Even the most psychotic have the slightest awareness or internal knowledge that the voices they hear, the images they see, come from their inner selves. They don't look around the room to see how others are responding to their hallucinations. And even if I'm wrong, I cannot refute this experience. Either I have to be unscientific and take this on faith, and believe in a god I know nothing about, have no access to, a god who also hates me. I don't know what he might want from me. But I often believe that this god saved my life. And that he saved my life because he didn't want me to die an atheist for some reason.

I am unable to refute this experience. And that is also something odd to me.

So there's my story. I'm trapped in this dilemma of confusion. And I hate to say it but: god bless. I believe He blesses some people. As for myself, I think that I'm damned. 

"Some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to the endless night." Jim Morrison