It’s looking like I might have to start over again in Pathfinder : Kingmaker.

Certain plot events have simply failed to happen. It’s gotten to the point where I have done every single quest available to me except for the kingdom building ones, and those are currently a tad beyond me.

I understand all the pieces on the board but that doesn’t mean I know how to play.

Metaphorically speaking, that is.

And the worst part is that I don’t have a Treasurer for my kingdom and that is even more limiting than I thought it would be.

There are so many important tasks you can’t do without a Treasurer, including some that are key to keeping your citizens happy.

Hence what happened earlier today : they rioted. Destroyed my kingdom. Presumably lynched my incompetent self. But even if not, game over, man. Game over.

Sorry, but I am too lazy to go find that clip to link here.

I went back to a save game from about five hours of gameplay before the point where my barony collapsed and I am currently still trying to solve my Treasurer deficit, but everything I read online about how to do that seems to refer to characters I’ve never met and places I have never seen, and I have reached the limits of the current map.

There’s plenty of unexplored regions to the west of my barony but I am not allowed to go there yet. When I try, the game basically says, “You realize that you don’t really have a reason to cross that river yet, so you don’t. ”

Um, thanks for that. I am guessing I won’t get to go there until the next chapter of the game. Thanks for telling me what I think.

Geez game, bossy much? Next you’ll be telling me when to go to the bathroom.

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Fuckity fuck fuck fuck

It always feels like a death in the family.

When I lost some of my writing, that is. My computer crashed, and usually that is no big deal. I have my WordPress site set to back things up every five minutes, so usually the worst case scenario is that I lose five minutes of work.

But something must have gone wrong today. Perhaps it was having trouble logging in? I don’t know. But when I left after lunch, I had written 706 words.

After the reboot, only 286 remained, meaning I had lost 420 words.

Son of a bitch! Happy freaking Canada Day.

Life has really been fucking with me lately. I feel persecuted and put-upon. I am just trying to life my life and maybe gather up the wherewithal to try FlexJobs again.

After all, I paid them a whole $3 for a two week membership. Might as well use it.

Of course, I am facing the same ol’ problem as always : every job seems to require me to have training and/or experience I don’t got.

To the point where clearly there are a hell of a lot of HR people who have no idea what the term “entry level” means.

It means anyone can enter, Linda. Which means it can’t also require ten years of experience, a master’s degree in physics, and independent wealth for fuck’s sake.

I am sure I can find something if I just stick with it, though. Surely somewhere out there is some sort of call center or data entry or whatever work for me.

Even just an extra $50 a week would do me a world of good. At least I would finally be earning money and not just wasting away on disability, passive and pathetic.

Yeah, I know I shouldn’t think like that. But so fucking what. I do a lot of things I know I shouldn’t do. I am just trying to express my emotions over here, and figure out who the hell I really am.

And I am not going to be able to stop judging myself harshly until I find a way to end the pain that causes me to lash out (or is that lash in) at myself in the first place.

It always comes back to that big ol’ wound at the core of my being. I am doing what I can to open it up and clean it out so it can heal. I try to redirect my surplus energies into a powerful weapon against that thick cold invisible wall I live behind. I am working on opening up my heart to let the bad stuff out and let the good stuff in.

But it’s a slow process, and I get frustrated sometimes.

I know I need to lose this contempt for myself and how my life has turned out. The real emotion underneath – sorrow for all the years I’ve lost to my mental illness – is valid but it should not be used as another reason to hate myself.

I’ve been sick. Being sick sucks. It has stolen my entire adult life. If I hadn’t fallen deep into depression when my parents took me out of university so they could take early retirement, I might have been able to hang in there back in Summerside till I could get a job and my own place to live and have some kind of life instead of.. this sad life of mine.

I mean, here I am, brain the size of a planet, and all I do is play video games all day.

It’s tragic, but there’s nobody that can rescue me from it but myself and I am not currently up to the task.

I’d love to be able to pull myself up by my own bootstraps, set my cap to a jaunty angle, and go out and conquer that big big world out there, but I can’t.

There’s no solid ground to stand on inside me. Just an endless, silent sea of tears shed for something that happened 47 years ago.

Any time I try to get my poop in a group, it all falls apart again.

So all I can do is heal, and hope.

Maybe some day I’ll get to be a real person.

Maybe some day I’ll be real.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.