Wet

Because Demelza texted to ask, and not everyone who reads this is a text buddy, it’s probably time to give you an update on how I’m doing. I’m doing okay! I’m getting bi! Many parts of my body are sore right now, but that’s my phone’s fault for displaying me the wrong class schedule and so I thought I was going to a pilates session but it was actually a barre class and OW. Though I probably should not assume I wouldn’t be in pain if I had gone to a pilates session instead. You might not have heard from me for a couple of weeks but I’ve only been a gym member for ten days so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

But at least i was correct in my memories of the EUPHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORIA of endorphins. If you see a fat girl walking down the street with very messy hair and a bi pride flag fringe grinning wildly, you would probably be correct in summarising that she has been swimming lengths, slowly but surely, or perhaps doing cardio and pulling things with her arms to build up back and arm muscles. The personal trainer showing me my routine (after my very insistent “I’m not here to lose weight!” and his very polite “we’re here to do whatever you want”) was a dude, and I am NOT USED to men touching me, except for D and that’s been a long time too, so when he was standing behind me with his hands on my back and shoulders, my body was like “oooh are we gonna do a sex now?” and I was like oh shut up body, you’re a terrible gay. 

Speaking of the gays, holy crap was literally ever single queer I know in Wellington at Hannah Gadsby the other week? What a glorious collection of babes, and a wonderful show too. It was hot though, and my legs were cramping and so I’m relieved it wasn’t a second longer. It made me really happy I’d studied Art History in 7th form now.

And talking of my hot queer body, what a fucking JOY it was to attend the Fat Babes Pool Party in Auckland on  Feb 15. I was proud of myself for going to an event where I knew hardly anyone and doing it sober. I met so many babes, networked my butt off for Boom and didn’t think negative thoughts about my body for a whole couple of hours. It was a wonderful experience being in South Auckland, I was one of the least colourful people there it felt like, compared to my usual black-clad public servant offices. It helped me decide that no, I don’t want to shut down Boom, I _do_ want to keep doing the work I’m doing even though finding out I lost $17,000 in the first year was pretty grim (though some of that includes mortgage payments since home office, and a whole new wardrobe for me).

The hotel I stayed at in Auckland was dire, but I checked out very early in the morning to fly back to Jo who had arrived from Melbourne and was sleeping in my bed anyway. I cried on her a lot, of course. We ate an amazing meal at Rita. I got to meet her girlfriend who is a goddamn delight and it is wonderful to see them so happy together. Jo has acted like my executive assistant a little bit while she’s been here – calling my vet for me while I’ve been stuck in three hour meetings and dealing with the tradesman who recaulked my bathroom and gosh I wish I was rich enough to have a full time EA. 

But of course the emotional support is the most important thing. The other night I intervened when I heard screams and a stranger was being assaulted, and looked after her for nine hours until the police finally got here (yes, I am contemplating making a complaint about their communication systems but also am aware of just what a sorry fucking state the world we live in is). The story isn’t mine to tell except from my perspective on it, which was it was a scary and horrible time that stirred up a lot of memories and connections as well. I am just really fucking glad that I was there, and I was sober, and that I was calm in a crisis the way I always hoped that I would be. And that Jo was there when my part was over and I could finally break down and sob. 

Luckily i already had a counselling session booked the next day that I used to unpack things more and my manager understood why I took the day off. After counselling I went swimming and that was a good way to get out some of the adrenaline coursing through my body. My brain is still somewhat overloaded though, and that with my period coming up, things are feeling a bit grim in my head. I’m feeling stretched too thin (yes, after only one barre class, ha) like I am not taking good enough care of the people I love, when I’m prioritising settling into a gym routine instead of having lunches with people, that I am out of touch with the lives of lots of people I care about, and I’m feeling bad that I didn’t go to my mother’s birthday celebration that I organised because I’d been up all night waiting for the police, and then when my sisters showed up afterwards to bring me cake I was busy selling clothes to an Auckland Boom contact. But the logical part of me remembers the pile of Galentine’s treats that I sent out, and I know that taking good care of myself is the single best thing I can do for anyone who cares about me. So just as soon as the blood comes, I will feel happier. Until I start to bleed through everything of course. 

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