I woke up today with murder in my heart. I am feeling so low and this month has brought me about the lowest I can remember.

My wife is waking up but wants to separate. A weird mixture of finally being on the same page about things but also admitting the damage of a prematurely committed relationship and incompatibilities that always made us feel unhappy. I am trying to be a decent father and help my daughter feel stable but I know my relationship with her mom is confusing and my relationship with her grandparents and aunts and cousins even more so. My parents are trying not to shun me but they are becoming cultier every month since the pandemic and our relationship bears that strain of high intensity fear, constantly avoiding imminent confrontation.

I have all but completely stopped bringing up or responding to anything jw related. I do not want to fuck with their faith and I don’t want to force anyone unready to go through the painful process I have done. So I end up asking for more patience and compassion whenever things get too tense or a discussion turns into a debate. Every time I ask for more compassion to my pain and my depression and my anxiety and the totality of my circumstances trying to manage the accountability of my cult upbringing along with my own mistakes, I have to realize that they are being commanded to show me less. Show me no compassion even unto death.

I woke up this morning with murder in my heart. I will take a few minutes to breathe and meditate and when I stand up I’m going to try and be more compassionate than these heartless soulless evil motherfuckers. I can show more compassion than they can drain from the hearts of their victims. I can continue to feel compassion for people who hate me and I won’t give myself license to stop because that’s an evil inhuman thing to do and believe and teach.