I'm coming to terms with accepting that I have been blind, but that blindness has lead me to my new sight. That something beyond me brought me here. I see my actions differently, I see myself differently. I see that my actions and the actions of those around me have brought me here. I take responsibility for what mistakes I have made in the past out of that not lookingness that I was in, but I do not regret those mistakes. Mistakes are neither inherently good nor evil, they just are. I must take care to walk in the light as much as I can. I accept that I will make new mistakes. Mistakes are meant to be and they are only really mistakes from our limited incarnate point of view. I cannot be what is not meant to be, for whatever I am and become and was is that which was meant for me at that time. This does not absolve responsibility, only regret.

factum est illud, fieri infectum non potest
done is done, it cannot be made undone
     - Titus Maccius Plautus

There is a 50/50 chance that my therapist will suggest that I check myself in to the hospital today. What still a possibility, the chance that she'll actually force me to go into the hospital is much less than that. She has shown herself to be very reluctant to commit forced psychiatry, and I really like that. I don't know what I feel about a hospital visit. Many of those around me think I need one, but I don't trust that it'll make me feel better. I think they'll try to give me thorazine and I won't feel better, I'll just feel immobile. And more immobile is definitely not what I need to feel right now.

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If I don't end up in the asylum today, I'm going to go to work making the branch I found under the trees along the shore of spy pond into my new cane. I need to finish it before my current cane gives out. I hate that I destroyed what purpleglitter so thoughtfully gave me. I feel very very awful about it, I loved that cane - it has even whiskey flask and a now-dead compass! It was stylish and went with my wardrobe perfectly. I can't believe I destroyed it. But, in the words of Plautus, "factum est illud, fieri infectum non potest" – done is done, it cannot be made undone. My new cane will be more sturdy and crafted by myself out of a gift from the winterclad tree færies.