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I live alone now, in the suburbs. It's been about two months. Part of it is fantastic, the other part is exhausting and lonely. The sadness is bone-deep but joy is in there, too.

I took the cat, at least for the medium-term, so at least there's another living creature around. She's been my emotional support animal.

The only way I manage getting through each day in this body is with the idea that I'll never be with anyone again. It's taking some stress off, even if it's not true. But I'm getting used to the idea of being single indefinitely. Maybe eventually I'll try again. But I can't imagine trusting someone again, and mostly just don't want to.

I've been learning to cook. Pork chops, mac and cheese, miso soup, spicy lentil stew. I'm working on how to keep the place clean by myself, and while it's nice that I can leave dirty clothes around without worry of judgement, I then have to look at dirty clothes around.

I have an appointment next week for medication. Antidepressants again, probably.

Then two weeks after that, I have my first ever vocal lesson. I've been singing a lot lately.

I got a substantial raise at work, with excellent timing, because even though I'm in the suburbs of Portland, I'm technically on the edge of downtown in another city, and the rent anywhere around here is disgusting. I hope sometime in December I'll get an end of year bonus, as well. Food is the budget that's the hardest to control -- I seem to want to buy things 3-4 times per week, and it adds up. I'm always needing something for the next recipe, and I haven't even really been eating out as much.

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2019-11-30 @ 3:07 p.m.