All My Gods Are Dead

All my gods are dead.  Or perhaps they never lived.  But, in a post trump election, I’m convinced there is no higher intelligence who is watching over us.  If I’m wrong, I suspect it would be some evil puppeteer sneering and laughing with each string pull.  I prefer to think they’re all dead.

Most will read this and think I have the most depressing outlook on life.  Sometimes that can be accurate, but not because I do not believe in god.  I refuse to acknowledge some fantastical fairy-tale type being; the absence of such belief is where I find optimism.  The absence of god in my life has allowed me to have a greater appreciation for what’s within my own control as well as what is not.  I can take credit for my accomplishments (egotistical? Maybe.) but I take responsibility for my failures too.  It permits me to live in the moment (when I permit myself) and not focus on my future rewards or punishments.  And I’m not constantly wondering why some magical mystical creature allows so much pain and suffering when they have the power to change it. Sometimes bad shit just happens.

I’m writing this blog mostly as a therapeutic experience for myself, and maybe someone else along the way will find some connection with it also. So, let me introduce myself…

I’m Elizabeth, a thirty-something female, somewhat successful, educated, complete fucking crazy person.  My therapist tells me I’m not crazy, but I’m fairly certain she  just doesn’t want to admit it.  If she could bill for “crazy” I’m sure that would be a more accepted term for her.

Im just trying to figure out life and how to live it to my fullest potential. I want to talk about my crazy dysfunctional family, which may be entertaining to some, mental health issues, addiction, and some everyday things that make you cringe and others that make it all worth it.



#mentalhealth #psychology #mentalillness #ocd #addiction #selfinjury #life #depression #anxiety 


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