I'm living the highly ordered life of one who has suffered an emotional setback and that order is the means of negotiating the disappointment that has resulted. A lot of it has to do with the weightloss effort. It requires a lot of forethought and planning to shop for and cook the most calorically-effective meals, to coordinate my gym schedule (which days will be cardio, which days lifting, which days both), etc. I do very well when I have a project to coordinate. It's both a gift and a coping mechanism.

The truth is that I still feel so cast adrift, and when I feel cast adrift, I need to coordinate a global effort. Disappointment is a great motivator for me. It heightens my already significant desire to keep things going, running smoothly, happening, at all costs. Any curve ball I'm thrown is tantamount to a challenge issued to attack an even more formidable foe, take on a heartier battle than the one I lost.

Once again I have turned my loving attention to my own best interests. I have a set of reasonable goals that I fully intend to achieve--another solitary journey--much like the last time I took my life and my body into my own hands and created something different and noble from the ashes of a devastating experience. It is also much like last fall when I wrestled with my thesis, and realized, again, that I am fundamentally alone. Not without support or friendship or love or God's provision, but alone with this thing I have to figure out, alone on this path. There is a point past which no other person can go--you've got to take some [excruciating] steps all by yourself.

So. I am doing a lot of list writing and thinking and articulating my hours and minutes on sheets of paper to keep myself sane--to give the impression of busyness--though my hyper organized hours leave nothing to chaos. And in that way, heighten the sense of loss I feel.