Religious Paranoia

When I was a kid (and maybe a bit still now), I was way too literal, and too gullible. So I would often believe things people told me, even though my logical, intellectual self knew it could not possibly be true. This evening marks the start of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement when us Chosen Ones ask forgiveness for the sins we've committed in the past year, and for guidance or assitance in not doing those things for the coming year. We also ask to be inscribed in the Book of Life, for it's written that on this day the Man Upstairs decides who shall live and who shall die, yadda yadda. It's the biggest day, religiously speaking, for us Yids.

Anyway, so we grew up going to a Chabad temple and every year the Rabbi would say what the 'sign' was which meant that we had been assessed by God, and we had been forgiven. So maybe it was a sneeze, an itchy nose, the hiccups, an scratch behind your ear - you get the idea. Once this magical thing happened, it meant you were (*phew*) free and clear. I believed this rabbi's mishegaas (read: crazy talk) and I still do. If I don't sneeze by about lunchtime (ummm...okay, the time which would be lunchtime if I wasn't fasting) I start to panic. Does this mean I might die this year? Does this mean that my being bitchy, swearing, and talking shit about others went just that little bit too far? Will my children not have a mother, simply because I blogged about how much I hate other parents, and other people's kids? There is part of the Yom Kippur service where you specifically ask for forgiveness...the lines (and there are several pages worth) start with "for the sin I committed when I....XYZ" (spoke ill of others, disrespected my parents, coveted something cool, etc.) I always worry that if I don't say that whole bit, the same will happen .... I might die this year, etc etc etc.

Seriously. I kinda freak out about this. I know, I know, I'm mental. I have no excuse for why this is. The sad thing is that you would assume the paranoia would translate into living a sin-free life. Yeah right. I wait, oooohhh, maybe 10 seconds after the end of Yom Kippur before bitching about someone or something. I blame it on the hunger-and-thirst induced headache I get every year, but the reality is that I'm me and that's that. I figure the Man Upstairs made me this way, so he's got to gimme my damn sneeze and move onto the seriously fucked up people, right?

I think you all had better start praying for my soul.