Human Beings

In California my ex and I made up the game “Who’s the Asshole?” The winner got to walk away with the most attitude.

Through that, I learned NEVER NEVER NEVER to use that word about a man. I lost my life over it twice.

More recently, the game has been “Who’s the saint?” That has come with the Pandemic crisis.

As of yesterday there is a new game afoot here at the Murphy compound. “Who’s the human being?”

This came in the form of my father being on the phone to my ex sister-in-law, whom I posted about the night before, while I was over there in the kitchen making my dinner.

She and my sister gang up on me and I am under the impression that they inducted my future daughter-in-law into their group.

This brings me to tears.

Because I trust this young woman.

I have explained that I fit the “definition of a monster.” I have the excuse of a sexual injury. Well, that’s exactly the point (oh excuse me) or thats exactly it (oh, excuse me again.) Thats the kind of thing that makes person a monster. Left unattended as I was most of my life.

Spiraling on a psych ward for NO REAL REASON, other than a temporary escape for EVERYBODY concerned.

This didnt need to happen.

I needed some carte blanche with rain checks and absenteeism and A LOT OF OTHER THINGS that would have taken a lot less time and money than the several million that was spent on at LEAST a hundred hospitalizations and ongoing routine (bandaid care) psychiatric treatment for a problem that was NOT PRIMARLY psychiatric.

Other accommodations needed to be made, it just would have taken a LITTLE BIT OF NORMAL HUMILITY. For this situation to have come to this sick place at this time has taken A WHOLE LOT OF SERIOUS B.S.

I had PHYSICAL PROBLEMS with the expression of LOVE. A good feeling brought along with it a bad feeling and marred everything. A little damaged nerve, just like a nerve in a tooth, it felt awful if it was touched the wrong way. PEOPLE DIDNT LIKE ME!

With age, I have largely healed. Nobody is asking me to have sex. And, I cant. Its just not in the picture. Im showering thoroughly every day and using a whitening toothpaste. I take MY OWN HEALTH AND WELL-BEING very seriously. Everything is arduous but the struggle to live is good. Just like anyone else, or certainly, just like anybody else with a disability. Its a challenge to be alive that I love.

I want to get out of here to a place where I can think about maybe taking my writing to the next level.

So, in the end. I healed another way through the MALPRACTICE in the psych system. I saw others suffering; and I was humbled. I turned to Christian faith.

I bacame a HUMAN BEING. Unlike those who would argue the hundred or so things that my sister and sister-in-law–my dead brothers wife, NOT YOU NATALIE– like to say about me.

So; thats it. Live another day.

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