The Sheltered Existence, Pt13 Et Mi Matria

Happy UN-Thanksgiving. Times Square Church came and served up Jesus with the turkey and pork. I sat for a bit. got up and left, returned and began shaking with rage over the extreme level of discomfort, and the knowledge that I had reached my limit on the psychological pressure. I cracked. I vented, to a caseworker the week before, a volunteer, and I got the stealth conversion spiel from the woman who organized it from TSC. Everyone was telling me to suck it up and enjoy the turkey (which I did).  Later in the evening, while talking to a  staffer I mentioned my impression that this is not a secular shelter, and she agreed.

This morning, I got the stealth conversion via invitation to a church thanksgiving. The only way I can deal with the pressure is to be out of body, so to speak. or, banish myself to someplace else.

For 4 months,  I have put up with the unrelenting stealth proslytizing by the staff. They get all defensive when I asky why no consideration for other beliefs.   Thursday, the Umbrella organiztion will be serving a Thanksgiving meal. I told my caseworker that I feel the need to be “fucked up” in order to cope with the prospect of being on the outside looking in. I am stressed, anxious, doubling up on my meds. I sleep but wake up tired. I am angry. frustrated.  and, no one at that fucking place really gives a shit. ALL COURT HOLY WATER

 

I may be in Purgatory, but the rest of them are in Limbo.

So, Hail fucking Eris, kiddies.