My faith is intact at the moment. I'm still angry at the results of my struggle, but I know not to expect any proverbs-like results or anything approaching my personal sense of justice. I looked for the answer in Genesis, and I'm partially convinced I've found at least one answer: Jacob was God's favorite. I'm not a favorite, but the good Lord has provided for me in the past and continues to do so in the present. I continue to have food on my table, and a roof over my head; that's a lot more than many other schizophrenics I know. My justice is not God's justice. God can heal blindness, but many remain blind. God can even expel Legion into a group of pigs, but not all Legions; mine remains.
I need to be thankful for my continued physical well-being, not continually angry about my childhood and present insanity. Two beatings instead of none need to be less important to me than my life. I'm alive despite my efforts in the past to make it not so, that should be enough justice and intervention.