MY TECHO GOT RUINED.

that’s right. the beloved planner-journal hybrid i called my techo got wet, and it’s now rendered unusable. 

it was my fault, unfortunately. during a recent weekend, i was having a blast working for the cosplay events department at a local convention. there was still work to be done the same day we had to check out. it was sunday morning and the department’s last thing to do was a cosplay chess event run by one of my friends slash reliable colleagues. (as far as i’m aware, it’s currently the only one that’s still running in new england after anime boston nixed it. it's a fun time. this year, i got to introduce a jackie chan cosplayer by hiding him in a box and pushing it onto the board.) 

in my excitement, i shoved an entire bottle of febreeze fabric spray in my already overstuffed bag on the way out. it was stupid of me, i know. clearly, that was a disaster waiting to happen. 

sure enough, it happened just moments after the chess event ended. i felt something wet run down the back of my legs. i thought i pissed myself but nope. i had brought that full bottle of febreeze to help freshen up my colleagues’ cosplays throughout the weekend. instead, the bottle had uncapped itself and freshened up my techo in fresh linen(TM) scent. the leather cover i keep my techo in did its best to keep liquids away, but damage was done.

by the time i got home from the convention and evaluated the condition, i was devastated. while the worst possible result didn’t happen and the entirety of my pages weren’t ruined, there were visible water patches that ruined a decent chunk of writing. most sundays aren’t decipherable. some weeks, half of the week is blurred into a cacophony of watercolors. i was planning to transcribe every daily log i wrote down into my 5-year diary, since i gave up on writing in my 5-year diary every day. i have eight months of backlog, a good chunk of which i now have to put more effort into deciphering. i think it gave me so much anxiety that my immune system exploded and i came down with a cold. my acid reflux got bad. now i know a faint idea of what it’s like to fall ill from heartbreak.

i publicly mourned on reddit, as one does when it has a special interest that has more of a niche following. i’m picky about the communities i join on reddit, and i don’t hesitate to leave when i find myself repeatedly fed up with the posts and comments there. it’s always nice when someone on reddit puts your situation into better perspective. the one that stuck with me the most was someone that brought up “this cup is already broken”:

“You see this goblet?” asks Achaan Chaa, the Thai meditation master. “For me this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on the shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ When I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.”

— Mark Epstein (from Thoughts Without a Thinker: Psychotherapy from a Buddhist Perspective)

uncertainty frightens me. as a neurodivergent thing, i need direct reassurance about relationships and where i stand with people. and i obsess over potentials and what-ifs if i don’t receive that. i am also bad with memory. writing down what i did, what i thought, how i felt, and what i studied day after day was my way of saving that memory. it was a physical hard drive of sorts. physical proof that something happened, that i felt an emotion, that i existed and lived. without that proof, i lack that memory, and so doubt and anxiety creeps up on me. 

i need my memory. i’ve suffered from years of family and loved ones gaslighting me about certain events so my memory is manipulated in their favor. i doubt myself a lot. i struggle to validate how i feel and hide away. i need my techo to ground me and show that i’m real.

but i am real, regardless of whether my techo is there. 

and that slim notebook, regardless of its current condition, served me extremely well over the eleven months i've used it. it still remains precious to me.

life has its own course but sometimes it can go off-kilter, and that’s fine. it’s better to ride the currents rather than live in fear of the unknown. 

so i cracked open a new planner and continued to go on.