I made my first move, today, the first of several. It was a light first move, just a few of my favourite sticks of furnature. It doesn't appear to have made any dent in this apartment, but has already mostly filled that little room. After today, I know I'll be chucking more things away than I wanted to, but only for the waste of it, not because I am particularly attached to any of it, besides that it's mine and I shouldn't have to move or be getting rid of anything in the first place.

Just have to keep remembering why I'm doing this, even though all other senses experience this as the opposite of what it is. This is a huge boost forward, not a giant step back. This is not a punishment for being bad, nor is it the nauseating typical result of just being a loser.

Doing things. Changing things. Moving ahead in life. That's what we're doing, now.

Not reverting or regressing, as long as my mind doesn't. It'll be healing, too, I think. Living here as is, isn't healthy, may have been maddening me without me noticing exactly how.

But, something else, too. Everyone involved has actually expressed happiness that I'll be moving there, on a personal level for themselves. Even neighbours, wildly enough. I found myself saying "really? Why?", but it is funny how things in life work, everything happens for a reason, and maybe I need to be there for other reasons besides my own.