I was raised Catholic, not hardcore Catholic or anything, but Catholic.
So like all religions, I was told that my existence/life, just by virtue of existing, ultimately had a higher purpose/meaning.
As I got older, especially high-school and after, I increasingly became agnostic (An agnostic theist to be specific) and eventually stopped identifying as Christian all-together. And now, these last few years, I've been transitioning from that to full-on atheism.
I'm not 100% there though, and I'm not sure I ever will be. Because no matter how hard I try, there's this part of me that simply can't/won't fully accept the possibility that my existence/life really and truly is pointless, even though I know that's the most likely scenario.
It's like being given the softest, warmest blanket you've ever felt in your life, the idea that you're here for a reason and that after it's over you'll get to see and be with all the people you've loved and lost in your life forever...
...and then having it ripped from you and thrown outside into a blizzard, that it was all a lie.
And no matter what I've been told by others to try and replace that blanket, whether it's been stuff like "You give your life meaning." or "Just have fun while you're here.", none of it has actually made me feel better, no matter how hard I try.
It's like some Lovecraft shit: I've seen the horrible truth, but my mind simply cannot fully comprehend/accept it, and thus I'm slowly going mad from the revelation.
If I had been raised atheist from birth, I think I'd be handling all this better. It's the fact that I once believed existence/life had an ultimate meaning, and had that taken away from me, that's creating this conflict.
If I had never been given that blanket and known it's warmth, and was instead just born into the blizzard, I'd be better off right now.
I was also raised catholic. I lost my faith when I was 11 because, despite praying for years prior for some sort of help with what I know understand was gender dysphoria, I never received any sort of answer. It was scary at first. Realizing there probably was no afterlife was terrifying, especially when this was a time in my life where I saw suicide as the only escape from going through the wrong puberty (this was in like 2009 and despite my best efforts, I couldn't really find any resources online for trans kids at the time. Just conservative propaganda calling me a pervert). After a while though I found it sort of freeing. I was terrified that I would go to hell for feeling the way I did about my gender. And once I accepted that there would be no sort of divine punishment, no eternal consequences for feelings I couldn't control, I felt a lot better.