04.01.17

Hello all!

So, first of all I should probably explain why I missed last week's post... I forgot to do it. I suddenly remembered just as I was going to bed so promised myself I'd do it on Thursday. Then promptly forgot again... In my defence, I was in a new environment, without my laptop and with people whose wonderful company was the worst kind of distraction. So what we've got today could be a behemoth of a post or a very short one because my eyelids simply refuse to stay open... We shall see! I usually like to do these things in some semblance of chronological order, however with this week (or fortnight) being such a biggie I feel there are some things that need to be addressed right off the bat.

 

First of all, my name. If you follow me elsewhere you have probably already noticed that I am now going by the name Hawke. For as long as I can remember, I have felt somewhat disconnected from my birth name. I always knew to respond when people said it (and even when they didn't, people who say 'emmmm...' while thinking are the bane of my life!) but introducing myself as such felt like a lie or a trick of some kind. I told my mum I wanted to change my name when I was just a child and my whole life I've been choosing aliases to go by. Since coming out as trans, the divide between self and name only grew wider and wider to the point where I started to refer to myself as Hawke in my head just to keep myself afloat.

I finally decided to take the plunge a few weeks ago and thought New Year would be a great time to implement it. New Year, New Me etc etc though I think I might be taking it a little more literally than others! In a funny sort of way, Emily began to represent all the things I have escaped from and I began to resent her for being a reminder of it all. Hawke is shiny and new and undamaged by those things. Obviously, I don't expect it to be a magical PTSD cure but I do find a kind of strength in being me and not the dainty little girl that I was told to be for so long. I will be keeping Emily Wood as my stage name, at least for the time being, but I would really appreciate it if you could all make the effort to use my chosen name from now on.

Another thing I'd like to share with you is a... story/poem/thing that I've been working on for some time. It feels right to post it as part of my whole new beginnings thing; it's something I very much hope to leave in 2016. Again, I know some of it will probably always be with me in some way, but I feel like it's time to lift that weight off of my shoulders. There's a difference between having a past and being buried by it. I don't want to be buried anymore. I've been carrying it for so long and been so afraid of telling anyone, perhaps if you read it you will understand why. I will, however, warn you that it is not a happy tale.

[TW: homophobia, abuse, suicide, MH, PTSD, paedophilia]

When I was eleven, a girl asked me if I was a lesbian. She sounded so disgusted I denied it before I'd even processed the question. How could I be something that was obviously so horrid? I was a child. I didn't think about girls but I didn't think about boys either.

When I was twelve, I downloaded MSN on my mum's shitty desktop and my best friend introduced me to a paedophile from Holland. He groomed me for four years. I was his 'special case'; he still wanted me when I was sixteen and far too old for his usual tastes. I was flattered. I liked him. He told me he had a ten year old girlfriend who lived on his street. I tried to tell the police but I didn't know how. You'll never read this but I'm so sorry I didn't stop him. I'm sorry it wasn't like the movies, how I thought it would be.

When I was twelve, I got my first boyfriend. A friend of his talked me into sending him nude photos then threatened to post them online if I 'hurt him'. He dumped me shortly after because he hadn't broken up with his previous girlfriend yet.

When I was thirteen I went to a house party and to prove I 'wasn't tight' I let a stranger lay me down in someone's bed and put his mouth between my legs. Later, he asked me to fuck him. He was so drunk, the condom he held up as a romantic gesture dropped from his fingers. Twice.

When I was fourteen, I let a boy have photos of me touching myself. It wasn't even real, I masturbated the way women are expected to, to be sexy. He asked for the photos while he sat behind me in maths.

When I was fifteen, a rumour went round that I had a 'hairy pussy' because of the boy I met at the house party. I denied it because having pubic hair is far worse than taking a child then bragging about it.

When I was sixteen, I went to a boy's house. He gave me cider and after I vomited all over his bedroom floor he talked me into letting him fuck me for the seven minutes before my mum came to pick me up. I was so out of it, I couldn't hold my head up the whole way home. The next day I asked my mum why there was blood in my pee. I didn't understand until a few flashes came back. He asked me if I came. I said yes to make him stop.

When I was sixteen, I let him do it again because I was supposed to like it. I didn't know what was wrong with me. He entered me and didn't even hesitate when I screamed in pain. He asked me if I came. I said yes to make him stop.

When I was sixteen, a teacher pretended she caught me kissing my girlfriend. My girlfriend sobbed for hours, she was so afraid of what would happen. What you did was disgusting and cruel. You abused your position to further your homophobia. You allowed others to bully me because you secretly wanted to join in.

When I was seventeen, my best friend pretended she was too tired for Halloween so I took her home. She put her fingers inside me and asked if I wanted to have sex. I said no. She made me feel guilty then took my friends away. No one believed me. The first person I told laughed.

When I was seventeen, I dropped out of college because I couldn't cope. The blood pooled around my feet in the shower seemed too bright. It hurt my eyes.

When I was seventeen, I stayed at a boy's house. He crept into the room while I wept and used me for practice. I told him I didn't like it. He disagreed because I was 'wet'. I think he touched my friend too but I've never been brave enough to ask.

When I was seventeen, I forgave my best friend. What I didn't expect was that she didn't forgive me. Telling the truth is a crime worse than rape.

When I was seventeen, I went to a boy's house. He tried to seduce me with A Clockwork Orange. He pulled me into his lap and kissed my cheek. He treated me like a rag doll. I ran.

When I was eighteen, I got messages asking what happened between me and my best friend. I didn't know if the people behind it were teasing me or if they really didn't know. But I had learned that no one sides with the victim so I stayed silent.

When I was eighteen, someone told me they knew about one of the boys and that I'd 'wanted it really'. I refreshed the page a hundred times, waiting for more, for worse.

When I was nineteen I made a new friend. I even moved in with him. He asked if I was attracted to him, I said no. He came into my room when I was changing and refused to leave. He got on his knees and begged me to stay when I packed my things and left.

When I was twenty one, I saw my best friend again. I was at work. I ran to the back and cried until I was sick. I guess that's what made me lose out on the happy colleague award.

I rarely talk about these things, especially not online. I've been so afraid of what will happen if one of them found out. So call me a liar, call me a slut, tell me I wanted it. I don't care anymore. I know I will never get you out of me, each one of you is etched under my skin, filling me with tar and ink. But I find strength in knowing you can't take anything else from me.

I don't know if I could have stopped any of you. I know I wanted to. I know I didn't. I went limp. I played dead. I let you win to stop it hurting more.

Now when I walk home, I hold my keys between my fingers. I perfected walking quietly to listen out for footsteps. I stare past men on the street, my shoulders set in defiance.

You made me stronger, harder, angrier. You took my innocence but you made sure I'd never 'let' it happen again. I will fight with every inch of me. For years I ran away from you and what you did, but now I look you in the eye and dare you not to regret it, not to fear the rage you woke inside me. I will fight.

[/TW]

I couldn't have made it this far without the endless kindness of Mel and Lily who have been there for me through every panic attack, every flashback, every time I drowned in despair. You saved me a hundred times over. Thank you.

Anyway, I think that's all the Big Important Stuff out of the way! Still with me? Gold star for you.

[CN: food]

For Christmas prep, mum and I spent a whole three days baking. As well as the things I mentioned last time, we also made pigs in blankets, cheese straws and apple tarts (the last of which I polished off an hour ago!). Mum bought streaky bacon especially but then defrosted the wrong pack so we had very awkward pigs in massively-oversized-blankets... Still tasty though! The apple tarts were a near-disaster too, mum wanted to do some kind of vol-au-vent thing but she couldn't really remember what it was and I didn't know at all so we ended up with some kind of pastry star topped with stewed apple thing. We could have googled it, I suppose but where's the fun in that!

On Christmas day I made a very festive steak Diane which was absolutely divine, if I do say so myself. The sauce was delish and mum made some lovely roast veg to go with it. We made a great team - I'd massage and prep the steaks, while mum routinely poured wine into my mouth!

[/CN]

Christmas prep was finished off by finally getting into the doctor's and getting everything sorted. It took three days to get an appointment, the first two we were on hold for an hour and got nothing, the third day we actually went and queued outside before it opened like we were waiting for a new Harry Potter book. Appointment attained, we trudged back through later on to ask for medication, sick notes and more medication! I think the poor woman was a bit overwhelmed. I do think it's worth noting that aside from the terrible appointment booking system, doctors never seem to stay at that surgery for more than a few months. Very odd...

I still seem to be going pretty well on my new happy pills, not sure about my new face stuff though. It burns like a motherfucker and makes my skin so dry I look like a dragon when I wake up in the morning (even on the parts I don't actually put the cream on???) but it does seem to be kind of working... Maybe... I'll give it a bit longer and see.

Glad to finally get my sick notes sorted, I had a weird gap in the middle of them for no apparent reason, which was getting in the way of me applying for ESA. Wish me luck in finally getting it sorted this year!

Christmas day finally arrived, and I was thoroughly spoiled rotten! I got so many amazing gifts, I cannot begin to thank everyone enough.

I had a wonderfully lazy day with mum, we watched The Sword in the Stone and lounged about on the couch just having a super chill day together. We spend a lot of time together, obviously, but usually mum's zoned out post-work and I'm playing a stupid game on my tablet. It was nice to actually acknowledge one another for once!

After lunch, we had a very important nap and it all proved a bit too much for poor Shinxy who isn't used to quite that much laziness.

Boxing day was more of the same, with additional family members. More presents were swapped, more drinks imbibed and food scoffed. It was nice to see my cousin enjoying Christmas, he's finally old enough to actually get it. Becky popped round also, and we had a nice chilled day before I became Quiz Master, using Dan's very cool present for my material. He got an Epicure Quiz book from nana and got very enthusiastic about an impromptu pub quiz.

No photos of most of the family because them's The Rules but here's one of me and mummy having a good giggle at Janna dancing behind the camera.

We got my cousin a Mr Potato Head to add to his growing Toy Story collection and within minutes we ended up with this masterpiece. Clearly he will be attending the School of Picasso when it comes to art.

The following day I headed over to Durham to catch a coach down to London to see Mel for New Year. It was a bit of an odd start to the day, I had a nightmare and so woke up in an excellent mood. Wait, what? It's kind of hard to explain but I had a bad dream that was just that; a bad dream. No flashbacks, no horrible memories morphing into evil little dream sequences, just a silly, scary dream that was perfectly, well, normal.

Unfortunately, that was about the best thing that happened that day as I had a complete disaster of a journey which I think I summed up rather well at the time on Facebook:-

'Well it's been an absolute clusterfuck of a trip so far. Arrived in London two and a half hours late, missing my connection, had a random ass trip through town and forked out an extra fifty quid to get a train to my final destination. Gargantuan thirteen hour trip is now a gargantuaner fiteen and a half. Best part was having some asswipe manspreading so far he lounged completely out of his chair and onto the floor, attempting to use my feet as a pillow. Perchance he just fell asleep and ended up slipping into the aisle? Oh no, my friends. How do I know? Because he lay there unashamedly picking his nose and flicking his various discoveries into his unfortunate travel companions. Eventually he got up and had the good graces to apologise... TO SOMEONE ELSE. Alas, his makeshift living and disgruntled cushion got nothing but an unabashed stare of complete ignorance. Wanker. The journey was somewhat saved by my single serving friend who I got on with splendidly, so thank you to Clare who saved me from total mental collapse in my sweaty prison.'

I honestly don't know how I didn't stamp on his face. If it weren't for the lovely lady to my right and the lovely lady in my lap (mum bought me Maggie Smith's biography for Christmas, I wasn't getting a cheeky lapdance) I would probably be running around the streets of London with pants on my head and a couple pencils up my nose.

I eventually made it to the train station where Gracie picked me up (despite having to get up for work in about 4 hours, what a hero!) and Mel confirmed it was indeed still 2016. I was so excited to finally meet Gracie, we'd been talking online a little for a while and it was like I'd known her my whole life. We are just as geeky and daft as each other and she's a total babe. I'm really glad Mel has a friend like her when I'm not around.

Because I'm an utter genius, I managed to leave my coat at home so hijacked Mel's jumper for the week. It was so comfy, though! We spent a lot of time cuddled up in bed fighting off the cold but I think we got quite a lot done somehow.

After a day of rest from the trauma of my trip down, we went for several walks, did a bit of shopping, watched a few movies and lots of youtube (I finally introduced Mel to LOTR), I made stir fry for everyone and baked a cake for Gracie.

Well, I tell a slight lie, Mel had seen LOTR once before when she was wee but was too tired to really enjoy it. I wanted her to watch it with me because it shows me at my geeky excitable best and movies are one of the few ways I can show someone raw feelings. It's always been very difficult for me to express, or even fully feel emotions, partly due to autism and partly due to the way I was raised and films have been so helpful to me in actually experiencing and conveying feelings. It may be a big blockbuster movie that I had nothing to do with making, but it's also an incredibly personal and intimate thing for me to share with someone.

New Year's Eve arrived with several more guests. I suddenly found myself surrounded by Mel's friends and neck-deep in laughter and frivolity. I watched them all swap presents and it was so sweet to see how they had all gotten such thoughtful gifts. They've been friends for years and you can really tell, they're so at ease with each other and the house was filled with joy. It was a little overwhelming at times, as I'm not really used to big groups of people, but I never felt left out or like I was intruding.

L-R Becca G, Ben, Hawke, Vicky, Becca C, Mel, Gracie, Emma

We spent the night playing silly games and drinking Old Mout, which I refuse to believe is alcoholic. Emma made a fantastic dinner for us all (truly, truly yummy!) and won Cards Against Humanity. Vicky branded us all with henna and we cracked open some fizz as 2017 drew closer. At midnight, Mel and I saw in the New Year with a kiss while Eye of the Tiger blasted from the TV. Amazing.

'The true art of seduction lies in using the moist, demanding chasm of his mouth and a surprising amount of hair in a way that ensures eating Tom Selleck's moustache to gain his powers.'

New Year's Day was just as eventful, we rocked out to David Bowie in the car on the way to a lovely restaurant called Mei's in Taunton. I used the trip as an excuse to wear my snazzy cosmic tights and we all ate as much as humanly possible.

We made a mad dash to and from the restaurant in the rain before heading home for face masks and Super Monkey Ball which is equal parts hilarious and impossible. I had a bit of an American Psycho moment when I managed to peel my face off in one go, as far as I know, it's still haunting the house somewhere!

Mel and I cuddled up in bed and watch Dara O'Briain's new show Crowd Tickler before going to sleep. I don't know if it was because I was sleepy or having a sulk because I knew my time was short or something else entirely but I barely laughed at all. I can't really find any 'fault' with the show exactly but it seemed so much less entertaining than his previous tours. I think I'm going to have to watch it again for a final verdict.

The trip home the next day was much smoother than the journey down, I made it home on time and didn't have to fork out any more money for surprise trains. We did, however, stop in Leeds for an hour where I was followed by two different men for ten minutes. I made myself walk around town for a bit of exposure therapy (and in the hopes of finding somewhere that sold coffee) and I made it through in one piece though I could have done without the mini-stalking.

I'm safely home now and I think after that mammoth of a post it's time for bed! I have two books to read - I donated to their kickstarter last year and the hard copies are on their way to me. Check out Absolute Power and The Lavender Menace right here - queer villains, yay! See you all next week.

Xx