Tom Ramcigam (magicmarmot) wrote,
Tom Ramcigam

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I've been a bit lax in posting anything of deep emotional consequence lately.

When I originally started writing here, it became a good place for me to dump things out of my head, and acted as a kind of therapy where I could kind of third-person myself and answer the questions of "what should I do" that are so easy to answer when it's not you asking the questions.

It also let me understand the difference between talking about and doing from a first-person perspective.

When I went through the breakup with Barb, it was an invaluable tool. It allowed me to talk about things that were bugging me: the pain and recovery process, the fear and loathing and all points between, and the emptiness of loss, and it let me make the decision to have no secrets.

That's been a lot harder than I thought it would be, the letting go of secrets. It has been freeing in its own way, as I don't have to burden myself with the defensive walls that keep those secrets hidden anymore, but I've discovered different walls. Some of them are not entirely my own, they are owned by others who are unaccustomed to that level of openness and see it as some kind of aggression. Women in particular seem to exhibit defensive postures, or perhaps it is just that my perceptions have been altered, but I’ve found myself having to hold myself in check quite often so as to not come across as socially unwieldy-- and that is unnatural to me. It’s made me pull back, hide, be a hermit, avoid social situations, and just in general become a shadow person, and those of you who know me know that I am far from comfortable just being a shadow.

If I had to try and pin down a state of mind, it would probably be low but hopeful. For now, that’s where I’m staying.

I guess what I’m working on now is damage control. The Big Broken Box™ is still broken, but whether it’s broken because of me or in spite of me is a bit debatable—probably a mix of both. And as a reflection, I am broken as well, though certainly in the process of being repaired.

And there is the façade, which is about to enter the construction phase. That’s gonna eat up a lot of time that could otherwise be spent doing fun social things (ha!) or more likely working on the house; and that’s going to be pretty steady at least through the end of June.

I’ve been feeling out-of-sorts for a while. Theme of the day is issues of self-worth, which have been hard to swallow. The local plan of “do a little every day” has been going decently for the couple of days that it’s been in place, and it’s helping, at least to get a clean base to work from. It’s a fragile place though, and there are a number of vulnerable points that could set me back into ostrich mode. My goal is to get the place in good enough condition that I could comfortably have a small party without the possibility of losing a guest to the toxic mutant creatures that live in the dark places. Now that I am down to one dog/one cat, it actually seems to be a manageable goal: you wouldn’t believe how much more of a maintenance mess three cats are than one.

Something that I know is going to break some hearts: I’m going to be getting rid of a lot of books. Many of them are college texts and reference books that I haven’t referenced for more than a decade; many of them are hard-bound. They need to go. Anybody know a good home for them?

I’m also going to be tossing a lot of personal history. I have a few boxes that my mom saved; things like old report cards and school papers, old awards from when I was a kid, stuff like that. If I had kids, they might be interested, but for me it’s really just useless junk that’s taking up space, and I have more useful junk that could take up that same space. I don’t even really know why I kept it to begin with.

It’s hard going through stuff to toss out. I’ve had to sort through some boxes and bins of miscellanea, and even though I start with good intentions, I am ultimately waylaid by the memories of how something was supposed to be, or might have been used, or what have you. Part of why the basement is such a chore is that it holds a lot of projects-in-waiting; it’s a lot like walking into the dark recesses of an Ax-Man Surplus store, but smellier and with more monsters. I need to be heartless and cruel when I excavate down there, and that’s way out of my comfort zone.

It could be that the wakening spring is motivating me to move again, to come out of hibernation and do some sprucing. I actually did a small amount of raking the other day, and am considering doing more raking in the reasonably near future. I’m not a raker either, I’m a mower.

I’m also gonna move a rolly-chair down into the basement. It’s an old office chair that was broken that I scavenged from an old workplace and semi-fixed; still a little tilty, but it’s relatively comfortable and for the amount of time I’m going to be spending down there going through stuff, it will be a lot better on my back.

And I should probably get more shelving units. I have a feeling that a lot of the stuff in the basement would just be better off if I could find a place for it so I could actually get to it to use it or sort it later.

Enough for now. I’m sure I’ll have more to say later.

Love to you all, except for you (you know who you are).
Tags: Big Broken Box™, cleaning, overwhelming

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