108 - A God, Social

Lin

I spoke to my new neighbour for the first time today.

She's actually really sweet!

We had a conversation alongside our caseworkers, and I now feel incredibly safe knowing that this person is my neighbour.

Somehow, I know that this person is mature and reasonable, and so I know that whatever I need to be adhered to by this person will be. Heck, I may even have a new friend.

Also, weirdly, the light bulb in the passageway to mine and my new neighbour's kitchen has now been replaced, filling the corridor with bright ambience.

That light has been out for over six months until now, so it's a major relief for it to be back on.

I just went to check my mail, and it seems that the council is attempting to get me into employment.

Truth be told, I'm not ready yet for that kind of change, but now that I'm beginning to regain some confidence and a desire to take care of myself properly again, I feel it would be marvellous for me to at least consider it.

A similar message seems to have come to my nice neighbour as well, so I'm not the only one.

I'm only going to work if I can work.

Employment scouting has really poked me with how crippled I feel right now.

Honestly, I have felt unable to do a lot recently.

I know that eventually I'll be able to, but I feel hugely unable to do almost anything I once loved doing.

Now, I question if what I'm experiencing is more than just mental illness and trauma, especially given how hard bin boy's outburst hit me. Thinking about it now, it's likely that I'm recovering from some form of psychic attack.

Given that this could be the case, I wish I could be more gentle with myself.

There's also the question of whether I'll later become a proper spiritual practitioner as a result of this.

Because this whole ordeal has been spiritually taxing, and if there's one thing I can do, it's raise awareness and prevent this from ever happening again.

And when I find the spiritual culprits responsible, I will strangle them.

We'll all kick their arses. Those little shits aren't worth yer effort, lad.

Sweeney ruffles my hair.

It's great to see you again.

He smiles.

It's great to be here. Now you should probably eat. 

I hate to say it, but he's right.

Let me know if you need anything.

I have four other people I can be bothering with my needs. You're the sick one. Worry about yerself.

With that, he walks out.

I can't help but feel warm and fuzzy about it somehow - that people actually genuinely care about my needs. Perhaps that comes with being abused.

Whatever it comes from, go raibh maith agat. For caring.

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