Personal Conflict

By: Jonathan Seidel

                                    Appendix IV: Existential nihilistic religiosity

As an agnostic individual, I do not believe in the grand narratives of divinity whether concerning eschatology or reward and punishment. This nihilistic bind removes me from the bliss of religious dogmatism. There are two reservations: 1. I still act religiously and 2. I accept the mythology’s either historically or metaphorically. My nihilism hinges on two metrics: 1. Pain encouraged 2. Fulfilled life. Much of my first rebuttal to traditionalism began with disassociating from an immanent deity to a foreign entity. My divine characterization progressively moved to be more Maimonidean and Gersonidean. Whether God is involved in the world is irrelevant as long as he isn’t controlling my life. I can not accept a god who would cause me this suffering. Beyond me, my friend Jacob and cancerous babies. It bothered me more obviously that a loving god would cause someone so much suffering. The whole lesson philosophy was exceedingly idiotic. Even if true how is the lesson worthwhile. I would trade the suffering for my reading and writing. Beyond my cynicism and pessimism, I don’t think the injury drastically altered my life. Everything that happened could have happened either way. It’s possible that my life would be different maybe better. I also think that even if the injury occurred it doesn’t need to continue. It’s been four years. Such a deity is an asshole. I would rather not believe in that god. If such a deity does exist he can go fuck himself. I will never acknowledge it. My nihilism would become astronomically heightened. Thus the leap from a remote deity to none at all makes no difference. I also don’t base my religiosity on a deity so it’s further of no consideration. However my identity is fixated on my tribal memory. 

Firstly, explaining my dual-metric grassroots nihilism. My suffering has cultivated an extremely skeptic absurdity. My experience has shifted ever so slightly to radical existential pondering. A cynic hellbent on exposing mediocrity. Compelled to find meaning in a painful reality. To all those who respond life isn’t fair, it sucks, or you don’t have it that bad are unsympathetic trolls that do not comprehend my reality. They omit the larger complexity of the bodily gradual decline, young with a cane, the unknown diagnosis. I’m exhausted and wish to call it quits. It’s not shallow nor stupid. My life sucks and I’m tired of it. I’ve done the work seen the experts, nobody knows and I’m done. Motivation is never been harder and I’d rather kick it then struggle more. Additionally, my aspirations are void. I don’t care for those things. Goals I once defended to survive, I don’t care for. I have lived a good life. I have accomplished much. Yes, I can do and will do more but I don’t care. I’m fulfilled even without reaching those old aspirations. I have no absolutes. My content-ness though may sound scary or even frustrating to people is reflective of my current mental dilemma. It’s my life not yours, so stop judging. I obviously care for some stuff. I do sincerely love my girlfriend and will marry her but it unfortunately is not an escape form my pain. I am not even sufficiently concerned with how my suicide would affect her. I understand my limitations and my flaws but this injury has exacerbated any good will towards positivity. I’m a bit crazy but so be it. 

My perpetuated painful life is quite the reality to endure but I also have accomplished much in my youth. I worked with special needs for a decade and changed many lives. I have written a book enlightening those struggling with chronic pain and depression. I plan furthering this project by creating an organization to help injured lone soldiers. Finally I started a blog for those to publish their content. Those outside the frame. Though sad, there is a fulfillment that encourages a positive attitude toward death. I don’t really believe in an afterlife but that’s alright. Four years of continuous torture has felt like a lifetime. In four years I feel and ironically look like a disheveled old man broken and limping around. Smiling and boosting my ego are a few ways of coping with the dire circumstances but it’s a guise to hide to the real tragic reality. 

My two reservations fit into my nihilism more or less because they are habituated routine and valuational. Before critics counter with value=living, I don’t agree and even I did, it’s insufficient. I keep halakha. To a degree I still do. I have progressively stunted my religious participation and now just follow the general values without the legal details. There is much halakha that I do follow but overall I’m a traditional Jew. I believe ideally halakha is the proper Jewish expression beyond theological legitimization. It’s a trans-generational commitment that can organically evolve but not refute. It is my identity that inspires me to participate. It’s more ontological than pragmatic but the latter still plays a pivotal role. Concerning the mythologies, the stories are influential and correspond to my tradition. The stories are memorialized in the Jewish psyche. The narratives shape the valuational grind and I find them considerably empowering. They are embellished but they are historically sound to an extent that offers a realistic history to be proud of. The embellishment telos emboldens the narratives’ core meaning and rationale. 

Where does this leave us? I am a peoplehood Jew or orthoprax. I don’t have an eye for spirituality but I do believe in a collective higher calling. Whatever that actually looks like, I do think there is more than what we perceive but I don’t call it god. Even the spiritual pull does not indicate an immanent being. I’d rather keep my cards close to my chest on this one. I have found pragmatic methods of dealing with my pain and depression through reading and writings. My accomplishments speak for themselves in the face of the absurd. Channeling my own self confidence to ride the wave. Everyone reaches their limit at some point. I’m exhausted. I do not fear death, I welcome it. Life has its ups and downs. I will not actively throw in the towel but that doesn’t mean my actions will be necessarily safer or in my best interest. It’s scary to say but such is the depressive mood. An attitude riddled with meaningless narcissism. I’m not searching for an enlightenment. I am just going to keep doing what I do gradually progressing in whichever direction and the universe will respond in kind.