igoogle as a study in my mental illness

So I designed my iGoogle homepage dashboard the other day, and on a whim put this little hamster gadget on it. My animated hamster friend runs in a little exercise wheel, drinks from a water bottle, follows my mouse arrow around, and when I click in his cage, I leave little treats for him to pick up and eat. At first, I thought it was cute! Interactive! Fun! Now I'm having anxiety about not feeding him enough, worrying one day I'll open my internet browser and he'll be lying on his side in his cage with sinister X's where his eyes should be. I literally am worried I'll kill my inanimate hamster avatar with neglect.

This is my illness. Fear of Scarcity, in all dimensions, in all forms, and apparently, in all media. Fear I don't have what it takes to keep a few lines of code and a bouncing collection of pixels "alive," fear that something I essentially need will suddenly disappear and I'll be unable to keep it together for myself or those depending on me. This is the disease that allows my 16 year old collection of bubble bath and matching lotion to curdle, unused, in the bathroom closet, because I might need it someday. This is the disease that had me spend $1200 a month last year on groceries. A month, people. That's every month, for a YEAR. This is the disease that keeps me fat, that has kept me at the same agency for 12 years. This is the disease that tells me not to write, not to pray, not to share, not to spend, and even, ironically, not to save. It tries to eradicate every good and glorious thing in my life and tell me that they are only thin wisps of happiness, barely shadows, about to blow away.

The only cure I know for this toxic mindset is to do a craft project with my son, and let him use exactly as much glitter as he wants. My scarcity reflex wants to tell him to SAVE IT, put it away, you might need that someday, Son! But I tuck those words behind my teeth and let him dazzle on. Four-year-olds know exactly how much glitter they need to use to convey this essential Truth: that the world is not bereft but full to overflow, that we are all but cups, raised up and running over, that annointing oil may be "wasted" as it's poured out, but oh, it sparkles so.