So now, the water heater is also having difficulty. It never rains, but it pours. I have misplaced my ATM card somewhere in this house, and my driver’s license has disappeared — I am not sure where.
I am nonetheless announcing an innovation: a moratorium on Reeducation posts. I reserve the right to revoke it but I think it is no longer worthwhile to unravel Reeducation, even when provacative questions give me the opportunity, with my now considerable dexterity, to put a still finer point on the issue. I have had quite enough; I have finished that research project and I want another. To counter Reeducation now I will reimagine the body and physical space, and I will not do it in writing.
This means we have definitively moved to another phase of this weblog which was started, precisely, to turn the tables on Reeducation, in writing. That is finished.
The issue is that in Reeducation, we wrote — a lot. Initially I refused to do it, correctly saying that I Wrote, and I was not willing to pollute Writing by responding in it to that line of questioning. I was willing to discuss it, but not to burn that path into myself, or use it to cut down my other writing.
Then I relented, and that is how it all began.
This is how, I now see, I learned to associate writing itself with extreme violence, because Reeducation was that. This is a reason why I avoid it — or have to go abroad to do it — or sit fetishistically in certain cafés where I used to sit before it all began. I learned to let sitting down to write in any otherwise familiar place mean turning on that stream and not knowing how to shut off the blast. I think I shall not allow this any more.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 
Congratulations! Keep moving forward.
Merci! I am still in aftershocks. I have to come up with good-enough working answers to certain questions so as not to have to reprocess these, as they come up again, through the entire circular discourse of Reeducation.
One question that keeps coming up is: WTH did I destroy my career? An answer to remember is: Because so much of it was about proving to my family my validity as a person. I wanted to stop that useless enterprise.
This was a brutal way to do it but the key point is: it was not an attempt at self destruction, it was an attempt to move forward.
There is of course more to say about that and one can discuss and speculate interestingly but the short answer is the useful one: “It was not a self destructive impulse but an attempt toward individuation; rather than rue having done it or having done it in such a brutal and ultimately unsuccessful way, stand on pride in having tried, having wanted to move in the right direction.”