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Friday, Mar. 04, 2016
5:42 p.m.
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Sometimes I feel the presence of a knowledgeable Maker around me, ubiquitous. Other times, I feel the absence of God so profoundly it hurts. Like today, when my client slapped me across the head, told me she was going to kill me, then started to cry. "Amanda, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't stop, it hurts..."

I asked her if she needed a hug, this a girl who doesn't understand that if she were any other person, any the other position in my life, I would have put her on the floor before she knew what had happened. You don't talk to me like that, and you sure as shit don't hit me like that, but here we are.

"Yes..." she wailed, and I held her stiffly as she cried. With her head on my chest, I tried not to think about how moments earlier, she had bitten her own hands hard enough to bleed, leaving valleys of teeth marks and peaks of whitened flesh in her wake.

I always said the thing I liked about behaviorism was that it gave me the power to change lives, to fix them. But the flip side of that is that you can't actually save everybody, because sometimes lives can't be fixed. Sometimes there's nothing you can fucking do, except hold a little girl while she cries.

Days like today, well, fuck you too, God.

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