I don't know if other people do this. But for me, the strangest things can take on symbolic importance.
I have a cheap little plastic three-drawer storage unit in my bathroom. One of the things that lives in the top drawer thereof is a glass pint jar. I don't know what it originally held, but it LOOKS like a jelly jar, so I'll call it the jelly jar. The lid's been gone for years. It's functioned as my bathroom glass for when I need to brush my teeth, take pills, or just get a drink.
The jelly jar and I have been through a lot together. The jelly jar did hard time in the months before my diagnosis, when I would drink it dry three or four times in a row, multiple times a day and sometimes multiple times a night. So, the jelly jar has been my friend.
But the jelly jar has also been my enemy. Well, not enemy, exactly, but a potential danger. My bathroom floor is hard tile. I realized very shortly after my diagnosis two years ago that keeping a readily-breakable glass object in a room where I'm often barefoot was not a good plan, and that I should replace the jelly jar with something plastic. It took me eighteen months (just how crazy does that sound?????), but I finally did get a small plastic container that works well. But the jelly jar has remained in its drawer, both an old friend and a symbol of an extremely simple thing I could do for my health but which I haven't done.
This morning, I threw away the jelly jar.