Today I baked a cake. Why did I bake a cake?
- It’s my one year anniversary since I moved here.
- To celebrate my name change
- As a celebration of the things (which are major) that I’ve been putting into motion since over three months ago (One of those things is supposed to happen in 3.5 weeks!)
- Perhaps a coming out celebration of sorts
So I moved here a year ago. I had a time driving here. Ate delicious food over the few days. Could feel like I downed a bucket of caffeine while driving on highways, and then on the last day, I had a laughing fit on the freeway. Better to laugh than to panic!
After I arrived here, I struggled so much to bring my stuff in, what with a whole parking fiasco and lugging some of my (and my cat’s) stuff in from my car. Messaged a friend I’d text from time to time that I was here (Surprise!), messaged my therapist. That evening, I ordered some food that turned out to be like vegan soul food, and I ate and spent the night in my closet—which became my bedroom from then on*—because I found it too bright out in the living area even at night.
*though lately I’ve started coming out at night, including to sleep—initially pushed out of the closet by a sing-happy neighbor and then just found it comfier (more roomy and less stuffy) to sleep outside of the closet
Thus I was in the closet once again. I hadn’t hung out in one since I lived at my dad’s house two years prior. Which reminds me that on the last day of the drive here, I had to drive up and down and around mountains, and I had the sentiment (which I messaged my therapist and the text buddy) that I wasn’t in support of LGBTQ+ for roads because I preferred straight roads.
The day after I got here, I went out for an onboarding thing at my work place. Afterward, I made it back home after struggling through the traffic and struggling to park and struggling to get inside the complex. As I rounded the corner to my apartment door, I smelled incense—during my last therapy session before my move here, I’d talked about how my mom liked incense—and it was as though my mom was welcoming me home. I had also smelled incense the day before, shortly before I drove out on the final leg of the trip here.
I didn’t know that I would change my name when I moved here or that I would be doing any of the things. I didn’t even know I’d be living in a literal closet. A metaphorical one maybe. I could have foreseen myself living in a literal closet if this place had a walk-in closet, but it didn’t.
I’d go on walks (smelling weed and pee—was it dog pee or human pee, who knew?) and see pride flags but didn’t think they were relevant to me in the moment.
A few days after I got here, I felt I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to live here. I had just gotten here and was already ready to leave. Perhaps the parking situation contributed significantly to this.
I had thoughts of selling my car but didn’t do so until five months later when my car started having problems that were driving my stress and anxiety through the roof. I rarely used it and would live like I didn’t have one anyway as I didn’t like to drive here. Since I’ve parted with it, I’ve felt more free without having one here and less like I want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.
Last month, in contrast to how I’d felt about the flags initially, I was happy that there were so many pride flags here. I felt happy to be here, happy to be in a place that’s so accepting. (Also I don’t seem to smell pee nearly as much as I used to, so that’s interesting.)
I’ve continued to be more or less on my own—living alone (excluding 🐈), no friends here, know hardly anyone here and hardly anyone at my workplace—but the interactions I’ve had have mostly been pleasant, and I have support and am grateful that, as I’ve said before, I live somewhere that’s so accepting.
Contradictory to my desire for minimalism, I’ve also been acquiring more stuff, mainly for the things. I also gathered the supplies to make my own cake (though I ended up with a blister from stirring the batter because I didn’t want to buy a mixer…). I had a custom cake quoted but it would have cost $200 and after the initial disappointment and trying to figure out the cake situation because I just really wanted a cake, I was like, “I’ll make my own!”
I’d ordered vegan donuts shortly after moving in and now I’m having a homemade vegan cake!
I’ve felt that I don’t want to use certain resources or do certain things because of the what-ifs (What if those things aren’t there in the future?) and having a mindset for the potential apocalypse (If I did this thing and became reliant on that thing, how would I survive!?). But I think it could be beneficial not to focus on just long-term survival but also consider living right now and engaging in things while I can. Quality of life rather than quantity, living rather than merely surviving.
I’d been raring and ready to go before, after living in my previous place for only four months, but this is my home base now and I’m not looking to leave soon. (I think selling my car helped with that.) This is my place to settle down and take the time to learn more about myself and explore what it means to be me and become me and to come to terms with this aspect of myself, which is what the last few months have involved. I’ve gone back and forth between acceptance and disapproval. Perhaps I can learn how to embrace it, to express it.
And then the existential feeling kicks in and is like, “Yeah but why though?” I don’t know! What else am I gonna do, huh!? Live conventionally? Ew, no thanks.
I just need to explore this, I guess, and I’m in a prime place to do so.
Currently Untitled 