etiquette of cannibals

Which on the one hand these spoilers appears to support my reading, and on the other hand has been driven me into a bit of a depressed funk.

The creature is a Jax's own desire to be a girl struggling to come out against their own dysphoria, fears and repression, which led her to lash out long at those she cared about and who cared about her, driving her deeper into the closet in a spiral self destruction. Read Mildenhall's monologue with this reading in mind [if I cared to or had enough time I could put such nice images from the show to go along with these, ah well]:

"Hunting has been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember -- although one could say it eventually became more of an obsession.

. . . The creature you see before you is one I've been pursuing for years. Not quite a man... but not quite an animal. Something... unholy. Something evil.

. . . I took it upon myself to spend every waking moment doing all I could to protect my family from the creature, hoping that when I eventually killed it, I would be freed from this awful feeling. This inescapable dread. I was wrong.

. . . Although I had shot the creature multiple times in its vitals . . . and severed its head to keep it as a prize on my wall... my troubles were just beginning.

. . . I took my eyes off the body for what felt like only a minute, and when I looked back, the body was gone. The creature was not dead, and it would be back to reclaim what I'd taken from it. . . .

. . . Things have gotten far worse than I could ever have imagined. My paranoia had driven me to the point where I was no longer the protector my wife and theoretical children needed . . . Jumping at every shadow, every noise. I ended up shooting the love of my life, mistaking her for the creature . . .

. . . It's ironic, isn't it? In my attempts to protect her, I ended up becoming the monster myself. Now I wait down in my cellar, no longer having anything to protect but my own soul.

. . . If nothing else... I will slay the beast that took everything from me.

. . . is what I would be saying if I didn't know that the creature was actually one of God's angels. . . . and anyone who brings harm to it will be dragged down into the cold, spiraling pits of Hell . . ."

Oh Jax, oh baby girl, my precious purple princess with a mental disorder, those desires in your heart are not unholy and evil, the girl you want to be, wish you could be, isn't the enemy, isn't a deep dark terrible thing you must repress, keep hidden from yourself and others. That's who you're supposed to be; it's one of God's angels. Trying to kill that part of yourself will only trap you in a living hell of your own making.