Is there an empty pod in the basement?

In “Bat Ship Crazy”, I wrote about the experience of being thought insane.  To put a positive spin on it, one can say it’s interesting.  People thought Jesus was crazy.  (Not that I’m comparing myself to Jesus.)  And it seems that the atheists who are the most vocal are actually afraid of believers.  Maybe this isn’t nice of me, but I think it’s kind of empowering.

But I sometimes wonder if I really am crazy.  I have become a different person. You know how shocked you were the first time you realized that you were talking like your mother or father (and not saying the things you liked to hear)?  Sometimes, I feel that I have been taken over by the spirit of an evangelist (not necessarily a bad one; I used to think there was no other kind) or one of those Annoying Believers.  

I feel guilty for goofing off at work because I feel I am “a servant not worthy of her hire.”  This doesn’t put a total stop to it, of course.

When I eat French apple pie donuts or a whole bag if candy corn, not only do I silently apologize to my teeth and my pancreas, but also to God for not treating my body like a temple.  (“Donuts are litter dumped on the temple lawn!”)

When something I’ve prayed for happens, I think that it might be because I prayed for it.

When a friend was talking about getting senior citizen discounts that she was not entitled to, not only was I shocked, but I told her I was.  (I didn’t feel guilty about it, but I was embarrassed about being an Annoying Christian.)  I didn’t mention sin, but just went on that it was really taking money from everyone else.  Years ago, when a friend talked about knowingly using expired coupons (adding that it was best to go to the checker who was the busiest or the one who looked the most bored), I didn’t say anything, but later I discussed it with the other friends who had heard it.  We weren’t nice about it.

I used to have one solution for almost any problem:  see a therapist.  Now I have three:  see a therapist, stop eating sugar and wheat, and try going to church, even if you just sit there.

I would think that seeing myself become a different person would be scary.  I keep wondering if I should see a therapist.  But it doesn’t seem worth the effort.  Although a lot of people would say that not seeing there’s a problem is an even bigger problem, I can’t really agree.