Resurfacing

Two years of all-out anti-trans messaging by the fascist forces have finally had a toll on my mind. A month ago as I showed many stress symptoms, I got a diagnosis of PTSD, qualified as “complex” but “complex PTSD” isn’t yet an official diagnosis. I realized that I had assimilated a lifelong self-repression that had boiled over once more.

I write “once more” because half a lifetime ago I had episodes of self-harm that could have ended my life. However at the time the therapists I saw all focused on making me more manly, which only contributed to my pushing everything deeper inside me. My crises became more private, and I coped by reaching for inexpensive wine after social encounters. There were people who clearly had problems of their own as they would get drunk during the social encounters, whereas I just used it as a way to numb my feelings at night. But after the pandemic, with the help of a friend, I stopped drinking. Now it feels so good to be able to say “no” to alcohol, I think everybody should give it a try (but that isn’t the subject of this writing).

So it boiled over due to this messaging that not only got to my ears and eyes, but also the feeling that we became a subject of discussion, and people had opinions about all things trans. Having taken DEI trainings in the past, I knew that other people – let’s say most non-white people – have been putting up with similar repression, and in that sense I am privileged. It doesn’t mean I don’t get stressed out.

I took a break from all talk radio, chose a few pieces of music to play repeatedly in my ears, changed my routes to quieter streets (I walk or bike), avoided discussions, made sure I always went to the cashier who knows me at the grocery store, and of course continued to attend dance classes. Practicing modern dance, and especially when movement originates from my feelings, has been sustenance.

So it’s not surprising that I am resurfacing because of my art… My self-repression would have me apologize to pretend to be a dancer (in the competitive way that doesn’t really occur among dancers, but rather among the viewing public), and wanting to be a singer (who do I think I am?). I wrote a couple of poems earlier this year, after a few years hiatus. I managed to get together the idea of a queer open mic, and because I enrolled friends into it, it had a successful debut. I did a solo dance, and read the two poems I have recently written.

The solo dance, a “rehearsed improvisation” or basically a choreography that will always be in development because every time the dancer is responding to different feelings and understanding of the song. The song I chose I recorded at a concert by the Oakland GMC, knowing my friend’s voice is in it. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and have a new idea of what a particular segment would look like. It’s similar to playing by ear instead of from sheet music (also because in dance, there’s no equivalent to sheet music other than what your teacher shows you to imitate).

I made myself even more vulnerable by choosing a pair of leggings and a leotard in tones of fuchsia and mauve.

What’s good about open mic is that you can perform in a friendly environment. I was still nervous, of course, and I even said to my friend one minute before starting that I had forgotten everything! But I made it through! I was the only one to know where I went “wrong” and I was motivated to be vulnerable again by signing up to read the poems.

I am now tempted to try to develop other dances, to write new poems. I thought I would submit the poems to a magazine, but then I figured I didn’t have the time, and putting them on my wordpress site would reach more people, more friends who don’t get the magazines anyway.

I will try to post the video recordings on this site here, as it is even more private and about my personal development.

As for the ptsd, I am learning new tricks. While mentioning that I had a mild form of claustrophobia, for example, I revealed that it was not as mild as I thought: I had just learned to live with it. As with other forms of anxiety, it is good to lead your mind away from the source of the anxiety. But “living with it” also means you have to be vigilant, and that’s just extra work that you pile on with other stressors.

Go read my poems on bibitiphane.org and let’s see if I can post videos of the dance and the reading here…