"Behold the field in which I grow my fucks"

Day Seven.

Functioned like a mostly functional human being today.   Went to work, unpacked and rearranged my office, went home, hung out with Abundance, fed him grapes while we watched Adventure Time, and am now at Porter Square Books, with large rubyfruit beverage, my laptop, my cross-stitch project, my journal and a card to write to Wings in.  I've had social interactions today with like half a dozen people.

Having Abundance around has made me re-realize that even if I'm worlds better than when I started, I still have some room for personal growth in terms of owning being sick.   I still want to apologize all the time and hide until I'm better and I still think of a cold as something I should have been able to avoid with just a little more vigilance. 

A lot of my thinking points are spent contemplating how much I like how things are working out for me right now, and how I should be more cautious about how much I'm liking it, or trying to refocus on the ways in which I'm failing people, or organizations, or life, or Life.  And maybe I should be, maybe all the moral laxity will come back around and bite me in the ass, and if I just hadn't enjoyed what was happening, I'd be better able to cope with when it goes away.  But it's also turning into summer, and I'm thirty eight, and there's ice cream in the freezer, and every so often, I let go of everything enough to just be glad to inhabit this space.   And yes, it's scary, and maybe having this will only make not having it worse, maybe it'll be a disastrous August.

Some days, I don't know how not to fluster Light and I feel like an ass for putting him on the spot, but I don't know how not to.  And I'm so easily discouraged, tricking myself into thinking we're doing fine communication-wise and then realizing maybe we're not, maybe I haven't made every last thing explicit and I don't even know what to be on guard for.   but I'm certain if I was better at poly, if I was smarter, if I was saner, I wouldn't be tripping him up and making him flustered.   And of course, it's all my fault he's flustered, because I must have somehow taught him to expect horrible things if he doesn't say something the exact right way.  

Well, that got dark fast.    Topic shift.

I'm fascinated by daily practice in seventeen thousand ways.  I'm not sure if I think that if I put enough routines into my day, I'll be safe, I'll always know what to do (which even typing out I can see is a lie).  But I want to be someone who drinks a bottle of water every day, journals everyday, crafts every day, sweeps every day, walks three miles.   But I'm bad at keeping up with things that are active.   Sure, I can quit just about anything, but I can't motivate myself to pick up a pen. 

I do not understand self-motivation.   I've been able to get by for a very long time on guilt, shame and self-hatred.   I can bully myself into going to the doctors, into turning down Abundance's sweet offer to go to the "survivor-oriented gynecologist" with me because going to Dana Farber makes me super-uncomfortable on seven different levels (the high/low points are "I don't belong here - I never actually had cancer, I'm over-reacting even being here" and "Why the hell is my life such that I go to Dana Farber and since it is, why can't I just accept it".   Turns out, I can stab myself in the face coming and going) I can shame myself into going to the gym, I can believe that worthwhile human beings sweep (or at least, I can believe that about myself.  not so much about other people).   But if I just want to do this thing daily because it is nice for me, fuck it.  I've got about 20 days of stamina and then something happens and I get distracted.   Or I have a bad day.    And I know the quitting rhetoric, that when you fall of the wagon, you just have to get back on it, that the only real failure is when you stop trying.   But that doesn't actually get me anywhere on a day to day basis.   

Weird.  I think I'm in a good place, but the more I write, the more I keep trending grim.   Time to read touristy books, methinks.  And to try to figure out where I want to take Abundance out tomorrow night.