Any kind of interaction with any authority that has maimed or stolen is feeling very heavy and draining. The old system keeps making its bureaucratic demands, but I find myself having a trauma freeze response to trivial things. It’s getting like shellshock but without any shrapnel.

I am supposed to write and make beauty in order to justify getting paid by those who subscribed, but I am not in that place right now. Over and over I fall, for years, and each time there is a fight inside to stand up again. Maybe that’s all I can document, so it isn’t hidden away.

Part of me says my problems are all of my own making. Another part excuses my failings because of the persecutory context, and my weariness of carrying a very public and personal burden of dissent. The spiritual war is to keep the desire to live to see another day stronger than the one to self-destruct.

Last week was really bad. I guess all that matters is avoiding more damage so I can fight on another day.