Laughs and Lobotomies

I remember when I lost my faith.

At first it just started slipping.

I was maybe 12.

I started understanding that bad things happened in the world, and to me, and I didn’t think a god could allow those things to happen.

After college, after psych treatment started, any belief was torn away entirely.

The thought that a god could make my life so wretched infuriated me.

I couldn’t recon with it.

And then I took a chance.  A chance I should not have had to take, and one I should not have lived through.

Because if I did not, death was certain.

And had I known what was laid before me, I would not have been able to bear it.

“though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me”.

I’ve traveled through the fires of hell and come out the other side.

I do not believe I am chosen.

I don’t believe I am here to change the world.

But I made it.

I have a second chance.

A man I love.

We’re hanging on.

And that has to be worth a little faith.

All I have is tomorrow’s, all the yesterday’s are already gone.

Thank god for that.