I binned

the vibrator this weekend. I double bagged it, carefully checking there were no identifying details left in either bag, and chucked it in an outdoor bin. It wasn't worth the embarrassment of it ever being accidently found. I'd only ever attempted to use it a handful of times and it had never quite done the trick. Binning the thing, somehow felt like a deeply symbolic gesture.

***

In other news,a change has come over me. A mental change. Very positive. I hope it remains.

For some time now, I'd been getting more and more alienated. Very identity confused. Sometimes even self-hating of my cultural/ethnic baggage. Where I was once very sure of who I was, as well as proud of my heritage, I'd become pretty lost.

It feels a bit like part of the haze is lifting. I have no idea where it will lead or even if it will last but because this change, however slight, has ocurred at all, it is significant enough for me to mention.

It is an ugly thing to not know who you are anymore. To not belong, or even want to belong. To not understand or like. To stumble through your life, doing one damaging thing after another because, because you have almost lost all navigation..all guidance.