It is almost Tuesday now. On Friday afternoon I found out through quite indirect means that my claim for psychiatric disability had been approved and that in fact there was already money in my bank account as a consequence and I did not even realize it was there as I had not checked my balance in several days. The award letter itself was to have been mailed today, Monday, so I might get it tomorrow, Tuesday, unless it had to come from someplace farther away than Sacramento. It will, I imagine, say more about what I can expect every month and what to do with this Medicare card I received also on Friday with no instructions other than “show this to your provider.”

Since then I have grown somewhat paradoxically more and more anxious as I find it difficult to believe that the federal government could agree with what has been for some time my main proposition as to how I am not suited for adult life in the 21st century in a postindustrial society that emphasizes individualism and self-sufficiency and having fought with this system for thirty years trying to put together a livable way to put together a livable life it seems literally incredible that I could have addressed it in this particular way and found financial support for that which I lack in relation to it I always thought that I would be regarded in that same way the human race was said to me to be regarded by heavenly beings–as unworthy and blamable for anything untoward that may have happened to it at any time at all. And so it seems that I quite expect someone to say oh you know what we messed up nevermind you were not right after all.

Whether what follows is the sufficient and necessary etiology of my lack of faith is something I have no way of measuring and so anyone who might read this will have only themselves to consult for authority on this or any other matter I might take up for inquiry.
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