The best part about moving is when the new place begins to feel like a home. Even better, doing serious cooking for the first time. I didn’t think the kitchen was that big until I did some cooking over the weekend. I made potstickers, fried rice and a lot of chili.

I finally wrote some poetry. I’m learning to write everyday, even if it’s in short bursts. This might never be a true daily ritual, but I’m writing, and that’s all that matters.

After we finished cleaning the duplex, I did a video walkthrough just in case my landlord tries to pull some shit. The floor was still a little wet from mopping, and I slipped and gloriously fell about twelve steps. It wasn’t too bad at first, but I’m noticing all kinds of bruises.Wes ran over to me and helped me up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so concerned. I sat outside while he went in to finish the video. Mr. Winston, Kathy’s outdoor cat, came over to greet me. When I first moved to Portland and found the duplex, he was the first to greet me. In fact, for the first week of me moving in, he would come by in the morning before the bus came for work to sit with me. And when I came back home, he would sit on my dining table purring and taking bites of whatever I brought home. It was probably the best end of a chapter. I don’t miss living there. I have never been able to admit how hard moving here was. I have never wanted to protect myself so much, and I hid myself from a lot of experiences. But even in all of that, I found a way to grow. I feel so much stronger now and feel ready for the many challenges that will come in this life (even if I don’t feel that way all the time).

I decided to telecommute today so I could rest. It’s almost like Dippy knows where all of my bruises are, because he is determined to walk all over them.

We didn’t have time over the weekend to make it to IKEA or the Portland nursery, but we did go grocery shopping at Fubonn.  For some reason upon entering the store I couldn’t stop sneezing. We had a lot of fun though, and I made Wes a few meals from my childhood. Also, I’m not making gyoza wrappers anymore unless I have a pasta machine.

I am so obsessed with Summer Flake. I was on Bandcamp looking up new music to listen to, and I heard “Shoot and Score.” I thought it was great but wanted to wait until the full album was released to listen to all the songs. From start to finish, Hello Friends is just remarkable. There’s something so familiar about the music, yet it’s also so fresh about her guitar playing and voice.

I should really go to sleep.

  • Therapy is helping, and I started at such a good time. Usually, I feel really inundated after moving, but I almost feel like we didn’t even move.
  • The place is all unpacked and organized, but I’m going to IKEA this weekend to get photo/poster frames. We also haven’t set up our TV yet since we left our screwdriver at our old apartment. I love our place.
  • I can’t wait to get back into the cooking groove. It’s been nice not worrying about meal plans, but I’m ready to get back to it. I had McDonald’s for the first time in five years, and it was delicious.
  • I really hate doing meeting minutes.

I love our apartment. After the stress of it all, I finally had a moment last night to just walk around and appreciate everything. I originally wasn’t looking forward to moving into a complex, but it seems really quiet so far. Our place is really spacious with plenty of light. I love that we’re close to the MAX, and there’s a bus stop just outside of our complex. The street is busy, but the place is well insulated. I do miss living in a neighborhood, but this will work while Wes and I save up to buy a home.

Lately, I’m realizing that being kind to myself is just as much of a decision as being cruel. The cruelty is learned, but it’s easy, because I’ve done it so long. I hope someday kindness will be my first instinct.

Last Sunday, my therapist asked, “What if you binge to accept yourself? What if it’s your way to allow yourself to be imperfect?” In the past, I considered it to be punishment, but it makes sense that I would do something like that over and over. I’m alone, free to do as I please, and that’s what I did to feel okay about myself, even if I knew it wasn’t okay. When I told her I felt bad about it, she then asked, “How were you supposed to know? You were given the tools at a young age, and they worked well for you for so long, but now you’re hurting. How were you supposed to know when it felt right at the time?”

Oh, we found an apartment. It’s a lot further out, but it’s near the MAX and as long as we’re near the MAX, I’m fine. I’m overwhelmed right now, and I don’t know how to communicate with Wes that I need him to help more. He’s doing everything he can, but he hasn’t moved much in his life and since I’ve done it so many times, it’s natural that I’m doing most of it.