Three Months

It was three months ago my sister told me that my father had tasked her with getting me medical insurance, because he saw places where I am failing.

I said that would be fine, but that I was resigned to my fate of decay into squalor.

A quarter of a year later, and my choice to be resigned is again proven correct.  I live between the cracks.

My father did the “well, they are an intense, weird asshole” thing again on the phone with my sister tonight, saying that I was noting her rejection of an idea, but that I could be dismissed because I am just, well, weird, intense and stupid.

He sees it as a way to bond with others over just how hard it is to be around me.  I am other, and “we” all have to tolerate that.



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