okay, so i am back from a visit to Chris's parents. The low light was something i think it wouldn't be fair to print and the highlight was going to have steak where i used to waitress. My word: that is the best steak i've ever had.
The trip afforded me a golden opportunity to be by myself, when the house was sleeping and still. I journaled eight pages, lists and drawings. I made plans, resolutions, maps and schedules. i felt whole for the first time in a long time. I felt unto myself, present and it was so needed. It almost felt like a spell and the saddest part about it is that it will almost certainly be broken.
I know that i do the breaking myself. I "check-out" all the time. I detach, as some sort of defense, but i do it so often i can't begin to guess why. The idea is that if you go back to when you checked out, right before it, then you can identify what triggers the defense mechanism.
My first guess is that my messy townhouse is making me check out. I hate it cluttery and messy. Maybe that is why cleaning it always feels so enlightenting.
Speaking of, i have lots of cleaning to do.