Tbf she's doing fine, but I'm not. It's just that I don't know how things might go if something were to happen to me. In the worst case I'll probably find her a better home before it's too late. I just don't know how to put it in words how little value the world has ever dared to put on my price tag. Raised to be worthless and constantly reaffirmed that by the world getting more and more hostile towards my very existence every year, month, week, and day. I'm not sure if I'll be getting a chance to continue with my current disability employment thing past next january, and with the nightmare that the benefits bureaucracy thing brought last year, I don't think I've got what it takes to endure any more of this type of shit. Sure I should at least try and renew my antidepressants prescription that ran out a couple weeks ago, but even that would just bring me back to how things had been for the past miserable years. As long as the source of misery remains unaddressed, all that those meds do is make me too tired to feel proper emotions and too tired to act out on them. The source of all that misery has always been the curse of generational poverty and how it had destroyed any chances i could've ever had for a healthy childhood growing up in a society where every other caste would consider poverty a myth fabricated as an excuse by the lowest filth of humanity to commit unspeakable things. I was raised to never ask for help or attention and that poisoned any and all chances I could've ever had in life. That's why I had to put my dog in the title here to get even started with this journal to begin with. She deserves everything that my destroyed soul would refuse to seek attention for if it was for me. One of the plans I did have earlier this year was to put a good chunk of that backlog benefits money towards investments, taking my opportunity to squeeze a little bit of myself into the markets while the global economy was taking a huge fucking dip and making the entrance appear relatively affordable and future looking promising if the world were to ever begin to heal again, but so far things have mostly been just getting worse and it would take months at current rate to even break even, let along get anything out of it. I cannot afford to escape poverty on my own, and in order to rugpull my bootstraps like a ripcord to get myself spin like a beyblade and start working for such goals, I'll need a body and mind that aren't falling apart at the first step. This has been a plea for help. Love you all