My therapist is working really hard to get me off the streets and into some safe, secure, and affordable housing. I wish I could see her more frequently. I realized how important having someone in your corner really is.
I went from feeling completely destroyed and in my usual doldrum to feeling a little alive once I see her and she tells me everything she has done to advocate for me in the various housing programs . After seeing her, I feel like I can go on, in spite of all the reasons I am made to feel helpless and alone.
I reek in the single set of clothes that I have reasonable access to. All of my inventory is stacked higgldy-piggldy in a storage unit until I finally get access to more permanent housing. Getting a change of clothes would be far too much hassle for too little payoff. I am not impressing anyone right now as I still feel trepidatious in my own skin. I am a hairy, smelling man-beast at the moment, and I hate that so much, although, I probably shouldn't considering that is what I am.
That is probably at the heart of my constant discontent, my loaded God complex and my suicidal tendencies; possessing an alien soul inside of a human skin. I've been this way since my early teens - restless due to feeling inhuman for some reason. I think I realize that my distorted sociability is what is racking my thirties. I remember my teens when I turned to Otherkin BB Boards instead of live human connection. Even this blog is symptomatic.
Thanks for reading!