i know. though i've recently made posts, i haven't been super forthcoming with personal updates. i haven't been super hyped to talk about it. i'm sad and sick and scared that this is just how it is now or, worse, that i will soon be looking back on my current problems with longing for how much easier i had it back when. so: here's the update window. gonna ramble. like the old days, i guess.
i started this practice of drawing a single tarot card, researching it, meditating on it, and writing a small prayer at its prompting last january. as a practice, it lasted... largely through the month of january; then i switched to drawing the card, noting it and leaving the rest of it for the next time i crossed that same day. wasn't quite feeling verbal with my prayers. wasn't exactly feeling prayers at all, as my anxiety amped up and my soul's night got darker. goddamn it's been weird. ultimately, the whole thing got derailed a little bit with shame, but i'm (mostly) over it now, having re-centered myself in the spiritual practices i need to do in the way i need to do them. now, i've been getting something out of reviewing last year's material. hopefully they'll be good prep for when i start making new prayers from these old draws in february. unless i am again derailed by the shame. the shame, it is so very helpful.
i keep trying to gently prompt myself back toward accountable writing, but i appear to be angry about and/or afraid of something so the process stalls out. for weeks now i've been making pretty fantasies in my brain about writing in my paper journal. you know, rose petals and candles and shit. it doesn't get beyond the "wouldn't that be nice" stage, lately, and i mean, this happens. i've been here before. it would be funny if it didn't so much feel like it's killing me. thankfully i've found some solace in visual work, but i'm pretty sure not writing has been contributing mightily to the anxiety loop that's the lead contender for what's been making me sick. yee-ha!
so that's where i'm at. still haven't dyed my hair, still haven't recovered the workroom from the summer solstice incident, still a little more concerned every time i brave the scale. as the list of what i can eat without pain means i just laugh uproariously at the suggestion of doing something so reckless as, you know, eating at a restaurant (kids these days!) i'm not surprised. i brought all my own food everywhere for the holidays and if you come at me with "but don't you think you should be pushing a little more" i will run upstairs, slam a door and sob embarrassingly for several minutes because OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS IS HARD ENOUGH WITHOUT THE ADVICE OF PEOPLE WHO WON'T HAVE TO PERSONALLY DEAL WITH THE GRAVE CONSEQUENCES OF CITRUS, OKAY? things have been improving, it's just more like, a months-long gradient, not a week's course of antibiotics. i'll confess that it's been fun to tour those parts of my wardrobe i very nearly jettisoned for emotional health reasons at the end of 2015, sorta. not that you can tell from my costco men's large fleece lined flannel here, oh god for those long-ago days when restrictive clothing only tripped up my cognitive sensitivities.
lost an earring recently. wonder if that means i get a wish.