I wore my pentacle yesterday for the first time in several months. When I stopped wearing it, it was intentional, just as my wearing and removal of all significant jewelry tends to be. For three years, I wore a silver claddagh ring that became my second skin. Taking it off was an act of will, a symbolic act. A painful act. I tried to replace it with something else so my finger didn't seem so naked. It didn't really work. I think I have to learn to be comfortable in my emotional nudity. In my unshieldedness.

I took my pentacle off a few months ago, when I was hitting bottom. When I wasn't sure if I could make it, or, what's more, if I even wanted to make it. I did all sorts of things to myself that I'm not proud of.

People say that you should cling to your spirituality/religion/beliefs when things get hard, that it gets you through it. I felt too ashamed of myself to do that. I felt, that in my despair, I was not able to represent myself as strong, intelligent, centered-- all of the things that the pentacle represents to me. I was incredibly unbalanced, so why should I wear a symbol that epitomizes balance? And so I took it off. I tried to hide from Divinity, because I felt too embarrassed to present myself to my guides, as broken as I was. I didn't touch my books, I couldn't work on my Compendium. I stopped writing about my spirituality. I felt like a fake, a phony. I pushed everything away and just sort of shut down.

A lot of this has to do with Mike. When we broke up, I got into a new relationship so quickly. Part of it is that Skyler is genuinely a good person, a person I was attracted to because he has all of the qualities I'm looking for-- intellect, manners, humor, shared interests, confidence, motivation. But that's only part of it. The other part is that I wasn't ready to face the fact that I couldn't make it work with Mike. That I had this precious thing, and I couldn't hold on to it. I felt so... so defeated. I felt like a failure.

I thought that if I could distract myself, it wouldn't hurt so bad. Of course, I should have known better. I should have known that it wouldn't make the hurt go away, it would only delay the bullet awhile. Not only that, but it was incredibly unfair to Skyler. We were in the car a few nights ago, and I thanked him for his help with the painting and the moving and all that. That I know I've been a burden on his time, and I hate not being self-sufficient. He said that actually, he didn't mind it all that much, because I'd been warmer to him in the past week than I have been in months.

I think it hit me harder than it was meant to. I had been holding him at arm's length. I'd been refusing to let him get close to me, because what if I end up really liking him, and I fail at this, too? Why should I get close to him when our futures are so seemingly divergent? Why should I risk it? I'd been so standoffish, so cold. I was doing my best Buffy impression. It's a wonder he put up with me at all.

I got a Christmas card from Mike's mom yesterday. It was brief, cordial. It was like a form letter. I started to cry. I think I've finally accepted that there's no going back, only forward. That problems just don't vaporize. That whatever gets built next will not be what stood there before the rubble. It's incredibly hard, because I have no guarantees that I'll like what the future holds as much as the imagined future I had in my head. Of course, living at home in such a toxic environment didn't help. It stressed me, frustrated me, made me feel so alien and unwanted.

I'm moving. New starts. I'm trying not to feel like my moving -- again, alone -- is just an affirmation that I couldn't make it work. I'm trying to see this as a positive. Eventually, it will sink in. Eventually, that balance will return. Every day requires conscious recognition of that point. I wore my pentacle yesterday. Every little thing helps.