20190609.0430

9 June has been another decently diligent writing day for me, with posts made in this webspace on this date in 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2018. The last three are poems, and I find once again that I do not want to focus my attention on my own verse at the moment. The 2013 piece is a musing on LinkedIN that I had forgotten I had done, though it is in my frequent model of summary and response and so presents nothing particularly compelling. The 2014 piece is a rumination on an expression of faith that, even then, was waning--and which is now exhausted. I will not say I saw no benefit to my life from participating in organized religion, but I can say that the benefit was more than it has since become, and I am trying to be better about not continuing to do things that don't help me. (Even this webspace, masturbatory as it is, offers me something; it offers me practice in writing for a generalist audience, which I always need.)
As yesterday, then, I return to 2015. In the post, I reflect upon a brief and partial return to bachelorhood; my wife and Ms. 8 had been away to attend a wedding, while I had things that needed doing at Sherwood Cottage. I note in the piece that I was able to keep body and soul together decently enough, that I had not atrophied as much as is commonly ascribed to married men and become dependent upon my wife as a second mother. I am not sure why I took pride in it then; I am not certain that I do so now, even if it does remain the case that I am able to cook meals and keep a clean house. There is no reason why I ought not to be able to, really.
I also note in the piece that "my tendency is to withdraw from things," that even when I have the opportunity to go out on my own and unencumbered, even when I have a bit of money in my pocket that I can dispose of with impunity, I stay in. I have worked at getting better about it in the past few years, and I have had some success at doing so, but it is still a struggle for me to convince myself that it is okay for me to go out and that I can actually occasionally have some fun while I do it. I am not always even partly successful; there continue to be times I stay at home when others in my family go out. And even when I have some success, I find myself counting the cost and looking at how I will be less able to do what I need to do when I need to do it as a result of going out and having fun. Rarely am I able to fully relax in the moment, and even more seldom am I able to avoid regret afterwards.
At the same time, I still feel as I note feeling in the 2015 piece. I know that acting as I do is not to my benefit, but I do not feel that I am making much progress towards improvement. Not having much changed in the four years in it does not make for the best feeling.