I got a beer, and now I feel I’m going to be arrested for burning an orphanage to the ground while keeping one to pay my taxes. Except, not entirely. My life very much has felt like it’s falling apart, but it took a slight upturn so my life partner and I are not in hyper-dire straights. Just super-dire.

He’s in the hospital; psyche ward. He’s lying to doctors just as much as he’s lying to me. I get triggered severely by this and the other things he does. I shouldn’t. Something is wrong with him and he’s in decline, mentally. I think he thinks he’s training me to be a monk, inciting anger deliberately so I have opportunities to resist it and develop my prefrontal cortex. But, he’s not taking meds and not going to group, so the hope he will magickally get better is less than ideal.

Still, he’s being seen by professionals, which may help my court case for assaulting him. But is he deceiving them? Is he setting me up? I’m schizoaffective and previously been abused by a cult; my judgment isn’t the greatest. He smoked weed nonstop in our apartment. We are about to be evicted, though not at any legal level yet. Even so, our lease was about to be up, so part of what’s relieving is how his father promised to pay on a month-by-month basis now.

I need to get a job. My job experience at 35 years old is two years a dishwasher at Wegman’s and three days at FedEx. Oh, and the cult I was a slave in, but I got fired from Spectrum for using the wrong bathroom in my trans phase, which they said I lied in my interview because it was a cult not a “normal” job.

I’m a skilled righter, though, and can manifest 100k-250k views to a profile per day with skillful trolling, and damn can I do a philosophy and spirituality and mental health skill, so I have my educational (f)art project, but how do I sell that to a job that wants skills I have? I talk about how I have my sister’s feet. They’re in a jar, on my desk. I can make a spectacle of myself damn well, but does [Company] want their brand associated with my randiness?

And this leads to me drinking. I kerfundridged the animal in me that wanted to abuse DPH today. Felt that primal feeling. Jacked off instead. Took the edge off. Still weak. Decided on a beer. I think that’s all I needed. Kerfundridging. Sinning less by skillful sinning. Actually, even more precise and accurate; predicting the devil and outwitting him. I do that, too, but this ain’t the easiest of times. It’s rather taxing on all fronts, but I’m glad my life partner is alright. He gives me hope to fight.