I am not special. The universe does not care about me. There is no big man in the sky in whose image I was made and who is watching over me or answering my hopes or telling me how I should behave. I am made from the same decaying matter as everything else. My ancestors, only a few thousand generations ago, were a bunch of flea bitten apes. I have no eternal soul, and eventually my brain will be worm food and my consciousness will be obliterated, with no hope of an afterlife.
And I deny these facts or become emotional about them because......??? I mean, imagine how much of a narcissistic, insecure, needy wimp I would be if my sense of self-worth, the entire significance of my life, and any hope for the future depended on a belief that I was created by a deity and that said deity cares about me. Imagine how bad I would feel about myself if I believed that my natural desires as a person were unquestionably sinful, and that I ought to frequently bow my head in supplication to a higher power. Imagine if, in vain-glorious hopes of an afterlife, I was unable to focus on soaking up all that my current life has to offer.
Personally, I cannot see how religious delusions do anything positive for those who believe them, and as I'm sure you can tell, my suspicion is that most such beliefs ultimately play off of and encourage insecurities and self-doubt. This is hardly the kind of thing that would lead me to flourishing or "the good life."
At least for me, I think Bertrand Russell said it best: "I am as firmly convinced that religions do harm as I am that they are untrue."