I don't talk that much about things here, or anywhere, any more. I feel too exposed and I sincerely miss having both a "who gives a damn" attitude about my online journal writing, and diehackdie.com up and running for the ability to pick and choose exactly who I dared to share with. But I sort of feel as though John is helping me through that. I'm embarrassed to share certain things with him, but he's sharing so much with me, that I feel that I should be, not necessarily ashamed, but at least more open again.
Once again I had a huge ego boost to my self tonight. Twice, from very different directions. One comes from my friendship with John. The other from the direction of Chris Ewen and Stephin Merritt. Both of whom I've known forever. I even sang on a very early track for Stephin back before Magnetic Fields was like a famous indie darling. But it never got released and I always blamed how poorly I sang his lyrics, as I'm terrible (at least in my own judgment) at taking other people's words and making them soar. But this image is from a Facebook communique that I had with Chris:
And dammit, it means the world to me. Kurt once said that he came across a cassette of mine after he had dumped me, and he said no matter what I should keep singing. Untrained voice and all. And I always thought he meant it, because he had after all dumped me, and yet my vocals stuck with him. I'm not a great singer. I know that. But certain people seem to find what I do sing worth listening to and that, well that means the world to me.
And then there's John, MY hot gay mess. He's not mine in the sense of a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, but he's mine in the fact that out of all the women in the world that he could have picked to dance with and make out with in the fifteen or so years he's been out as a gay man, he chose me to be his female companion. Heh. I wrote it and realized that it's similar to the situation with the Doctor. He CAN'T be with another Time Lord, so he has those earthlings he plucks from nowhere and invite along his journey. And John has done that with me - and I reciprocate. He loves me, even though I'm not his "type" - and I love him and the fact he's sharing his new journey with me wholeheartedly. What we have is more special than just mere couple hood. We have, for whatever reason, a deep understanding of one another and it's healthy.
Someday I'll have my perfect boyfriend and so will he. For all we know it may be the same person (we joke about sharing lately), but he's so wonderful. He's hatching and rebirthing and I'm invited along for the journey and I value that so much. I only shared a smidgeon with Zoe, but she's possibly the template for this whole thing. I don't know. It's all learning as we go, I suppose.
So yes, admittedly I'm fighting the PTSD every single moment of every single day. It's beyond difficult. But the fact is, so far I'm winning. I'm not letting it cause me to harm myself in a serious way. And not very many people can understand what a battle it is to not give in and just let the agony wash me away. But I don't and I'm trying each waking moment to say I won't. My friends are a huge component. So are my dogs. And I have a therapist AND a psychiatrist appointment this coming week. Then the week after I have a hip appointment to see if the surgeon thinks surgery is necessary or not. It could be SO much worse. It is BAD, but it's not insurmountable. I just have to make that my mantra and maybe I'll get through all this after all.
Oh, and John paid for me to go tonight, plus he gave me a glass he made. We're honestly such good friends and I value that in ways that only Melissa and a few others can understand. It is far from fag-haggery, because I know him for who he is and I support it and don't want him to ever feel he can't be himself around me. No matter who that self may turn out to be.