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on-going

March 12, 2015

I finally wrote my last thank you note, for Christmas.

I sent a check to the guy for the book that I did the too-short book review on. I explained part of my dilemma. {I managed to not mention my ancestors.}

Heard back from my frenemy. I was so terse in response, I would call it brusque. Unlike her, I don’t remember “the good old days” fondly at all. I don’t care if I never hear back from her. {I marvel now that I spent 30 years wishing people from my past would track me down. What was I thinking?!?}

The (broken) windchimes departed our household.

I went back to the Local Plant Nursery, twice, looking at ceramic pots (glazed, unglazed) that I might use for outdoor compost-y bins. Did not buy anything.

Looked at a tin “lantern” and a bunch of old keys at an antique store. Also a bookshelf, painted blue. Did not buy anything.

Got a little book to keep my online passwords in. I’ve begun populating it, and I’m only including stuff that’s definitely important to me right now.

I dreamed 87 variations for the Important Letter I need to start writing, as soon as I can find the necessary wyxzi. (Today might’ve been that day, if only Spouse hadn’t worked from home all day.)

I could’ve persisted in reading the entire volume of Distant Neighbors: The Selected Letters of Wendell Berry and Gary Snyder, but out of kindness to myself, I stopped. {Where are the male environmental poets that talk about women poets, who are not their wives? Women philosophers? Women artists? Women intellectuals? Where are those men?}

I went for a walk in the woods. It was still snowy. On my way to see the stream at the bottom of the hill, I slipped and fell, scraping my hand and wrenching one shoulder and possibly the other elbow, so I turned back. I iced my hand, wrist, and shoulder right away, instead of delaying for hours or days like I normally do. {“Icing” an injury makes my whole body cold, which takes a long time to warm back up. I hate that aspect of it.}

I think I’ve figured out why my chest and back are hurting in the new way they are. I have a plan for dealing with it.

I don’t think the half-decaf coffee I tried from a local business is working out.

I don’t like the cupcakes Spouse picked out nearly as much as the ones I picked out, but as far as I can tell, there’s only one (very minor) difference between them. I’m still eating them, of course.

I finally registered for the 2 dancing classes and the costume making class. They’ll all begin in April. (Hopefully, no cancellations.)

My bank in Indiana called. They received my letter, and they’ll be closing all my accounts as requested. The end of an era.

My car maintenance didn’t cost more than we expected. {Last year I went in for an oil change, and the dealership told me my car needed $800 worth of work.}

I picked up new books from the library — all on ceramics/pottery.

I sat in my car at the library and cried.

Allowed myself to feel angry, really angry, about something that happened 29 years ago. Trying to write about it keeps getting sidetracked into irrelevancy, but there must be something unresolved about it that I can do something about. I need to find out what it is.

I don’t know how to “make things right” with my aspects/personas/selves. But I’m going to find out how, and do it. If I have to change, deep-down-configuration-change, I have committed myself to doing that. And atonement/reparations, if there are any such.

Realized that Thing MM I’d been looking forward to doing later this month is… something I’m not remotely ready to do. Disappointing, but necessary, to realize that now.

I walked around Target, muttering to myself, “why does everything suck so much?” and “why is everything so ugly?” I did not attempt to cheer myself up, or “look on the bright side”. I’m letting go of … stuff. Of course it hurts. Of course it’s unsettling and uncomfortable.

I bought new underwear and a package of 6 Hershey bars. I sat in my car and ate 2 Hershey bars, one after the other. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before, but I did not judge myself — it worked for what I needed it to do.

I realized that some proto-friendships aren’t going to work after all. But if I hadn’t begun the process, I wouldn’t have gotten the experience I’ve been getting, at figuring out where my boundaries need to be. Nothing was wasted.

I recognized that I had fallen into a catastrophizing loop, and that maybe every single thing isn’t terrible. And that maybe falling into catastrophizing loops… will eventually stop being my default when things are in flux.

I came home and read a book that cheered me up, as it broke my heart. I even cried. My favorite kind of book.

New underwear is being washed now.

My whole body feels like I’ve been beaten with sticks. My brain feels leaden and catatonic, even though I’m not sleepy. It’s similar to how I feel when I’ve been completely depleted by sensory overstimulation.

Going back to Twitter wouldn’t solve any problems. It’s a band-aid for my symptoms.

Something reminded me of my youngest brother. I wonder how he’s doing. But then, I’ve always wondered.

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