The Secret Place

I’ve been fighting what I really really hope is a bug and not a new development of my disease.  I’ve been achy and miserable for over a week.  I have a sore throat and stuffy head that comes and goes, and I’ve felt like I had a fever a few times. Last night I was really sick, but today I seem back to the low-level crud. This could mean I’m being exposed to mold at work. I really don’t want that to be true.  That will probably mean quitting my job and…  I really don’t want to quit my job. I haven’t tested my work, partly because I’m terribly afraid…

So… cause this is just anxiety night… a visitor on my blog just popped up from the same town as me.  And I totally freaked out!  Because, you know, it’s not like there are a ridiculous number of people in this city, and probably it isn’t completely statistically unlikely that SOMEONE else in this city might be interested in the things I write about and might stumble onto my blog and look at it. But, in my anxiety brain, I’m going, “Holy shit!  Someone knows me!  They’ll recognize me on the street!” Sigh. And it isn’t any of the guys because I have little tags that tell me who a…

I feel like we all spent the whole weekend talking.  I am seriously talked out.  But I am grateful that I am part of a family of people who believe in talking.  I am grateful that… that they, and I, are all willing and able to talk about what we want, what we feel, our insecurities and worries and perspectives.  And I am proud of all of us for how well we navigated… particularly today.  We were respectful, we listened, we assumed positive intent, we clarified rather than jumping to conclusions… (yes, even me!)  It was just a really mature and productive and fucking exhausting weekend.  But I feel a…

It’s been 24 hours, and we’re almost okay again.  I think that’s pretty good for us. I spent the evening curled up on the couch, with my legs on K and my head in Sir’s lap.  We watched a movie.  K and J are going to spend the night again.  SB is pretty okay.  I’m… mostly okay.  Sir is having the hardest time because he’s blaming himself.  But J said (after hearing every last detail from every person’s perspective) that it was just an unavoidable thing. This thing we do, this life we choose, it embeds certain inherent risks… physical risks, emotional risks, and… although we do all that we…

Things… aren’t good. K told me to write.  They’ll be here in about 45 minutes… but… I don’t… I don’t know… I don’t even know where to start. SB is sleeping.  Sir is downstairs. Things went really badly tonight, with Sir and SB.  And… I… Sir isn’t okay.  I don’t know if SB is okay… he just finally just fell asleep, so I left him in the bedroom and I went to find Sir and Sir isn’t okay, so I texted K and J but they are in the mountains, they’re coming back to town, but it will take another 45 minutes to get here. Fuck. I don’t think I’m…

I’m tired. I’m hungry. I just got home from work (7:30 P.M.) I had to wear nice clothes. My soul died a little.   I got home and Sir made me take a shower.  It’s a new routine.  I have to take a shower when I get home every day.  (Not because I stink, Sir decided I need a physical ritual of separation from work when I get home.)  I argued that I could just change clothes, but I lost the argument. Showering is kind of nice. It’s actually a pain in the ass, but being clean and wearing a T-shirt and yoga pants all evening is nice. I want…