Group Session 1: Support & Cookies

I made it to the support group! I have been feeling off balance lately. Those entries are for a different date though. I will not be brought down by mild paranoia, stress and feelings of overwhelming doom. This is a night to celebrate!

I started off my journey to the group like this:

I needed to collect myself as only Joan Didion can teach me. I told myself that this was a good thing, there was no reason to feel as if the world is closing in on you. It was a bold attempt, and it worked somewhat.

Arriving to the LGBT Center, this time in the right room and on the right time. I began to feel terrified again. I clutched the chair. The room was filling up quickly, older gay men dominated, but of the twenty of us there were about seven who were in their 20s. I felt relief.

The group opened with stating your name and the feelings you were bringing into the session.

"I'm Iguana and I was supposed to be here two weeks ago, but I got lost." Everyone laughed and I smiled to show there were no hard feelings. "I feel overwhelmed. I have school that started today. Then this project outside of school. Also, this is all so new. . ." I trailed off, not wanting to be the talkative new guy. Another guy in the group passed around cookies and I held mine until after I had spoken. It was Oatmeal, M&Ms and HIV flavored.

"I am upset. . . because of all the new people attending the group." I felt a hint of shame, obviously I was one of these people. I would not let it get to me though, it saddened this man to see so many people infected. I had to admit he did have a right to feel that way.

I don't want to go into detail of how it all played out. I can best compare it to being in a cave filled with echoes. I heard so many things tonight. So many worries or issues that I'd heard before, but only in my head. I found myself agreeing with a guy who felt anxiety in trying to get proper medical care and felt nothing but frustration.

I listened to them open the discussion of "Were you surprised when you first found out?"

I felt my body tense. I'm new to this. Do I really go that far and tell that personal of a story?

Here it comes. . . "I knew I was going to get it. I did some many drugs. . .When you're that high, even when they told me they were poz. I didn't care. . ." Wait, what's not me. I looked up and saw a man across the way. He had the same story I had and so, I spoke up.

Why I spoke up is beyond me. I wanted to let him know he wasn't the only one. No one in the group had said it yet, "I agree with you--I--I have done many drugs-- f--or the last few--years. I would know who was poz and it didn't bother me either. Then when you're sober, it seems to be all you can think about." I trailed off because the reality had happened. I openly told a group of people that I did drugs and didn't care if I became positive. Okay, that felt different. We need to see what progresses from that point.

It was liberating in the sense that I know I am not the only person to make this choice. Does that make me feel any lighter? No. Do I feel proud? No. Do I feel that I've connected with the world and I am beginning to put my life together? A little. Baby steps.

We continued on. Discussing different issues. At one point someone pointed out how surprised he was that all the new people are sharing. I lowered my head until he added that it was a good thing.

The last thing that shook my soul was when someone brought up, "Telling your family." The room became a game of hush. The distance this creates and how we all hate it. I spoke out because the topic was so ripe I could not resist picking it from the vine.

"I was born the middle child and grew up as the one you didn't need to watch. I always got good grades and my brother created trouble. I could move to NYC and take care of myself! Now I can shake the very foundation of my family life with one sentence. I have become the child who has the biggest issue to deal with and I cannot speak with them about it. I fight with my mother and it ended with my screaming at her that I was looking for therapy and she said, 'I didn't know your childhood was so rough.' And I had to let her believe that was the reason I wanted it. . ."

I felt small. I felt afraid. I felt alone.

At the end of the group we went around again and stated our names and feelings.

"I'm Iguana and I'm still feeling overwhelmed."

I will return next week, though.

Mondays, Midterms and Morose Feelings

My parent's visit brought about the news that my Alcoholic Aunt's possible addiction to "Crack-Cocaine". I had to stop myself before my jaw fell through the floor.

I am well versed in the world of drugs, this is a fact, but to hear that my Aunt is living with a dealer/user, makes me want to call the police because it's only a matter of time before this woman is lost for good.

I suppose it's been about six years since it was revealed to my family about her addiction to Alcohol. She went to rehab about 6 times and has fallen off the wagon every time. I know what "Crack-Cocaine" can turn you into. My parents talked about it as if it were just another issue (my dad put a lot of time and energy trying to help her recover) mainly cause they still think she's just drinking. I hinted that this may not be the case, and that they should watch an episode of Intervention, to get an idea of where she may be heading.

Onto other news though:

I went out to a club with my friends. Oh, the night life. Alcohol and Chelsea Boys! At one point during the night a fierce drag queen anounced:

"Gurl! No one does Cocaine anymore! It's all about E! Oh--Are you getting coke? Gurl! Get me some!"

It's lines like that, which make me love staying up until 6:30 am. It's encounters like this that make me love experiencing Chelsea Boys:

(It's 3:30 AM, last call. IGUANA sits on a couch. He is rolling. He also is bopping his head to the music. A HOT GUY IN GLASSES [HGIG] walks over and begins to address the DRAG QUEEN [DQ sitting next to him. IGUANA watches the following conversation, but says nothing, cause he enjoys watching people act like he's not there.)

HGIG: Does he want to dance?
DQ: Excuse me?
HGIG: Is he alone?
DQ: Yes, he is alone...You know he's right there?

(IGUANA nods his head to the music, smiles and says nothing.)

HGIG: You know, you have great arms!
IGNAUA: Yes, I work out.
HGIG: I love your arms, they're great? You're so hot.
IGUANA: Heh. Thanks.
HGIG: Does he look this way in the daylight, he's so cute! Does he have a boyfriend?

(IGUANA smiles.)

DQ: Yes, he is this adorable in the sunlight. No, he's single. He's still RIGHT there.
HGIG: Do you wanna come home with me? Would you follow me anywhere?
IGUANA: (Laughs) Where do you live?
HGIG: That doesn't matter. Would you follow me anywhere?
IGUANA: Huh?
HGIG: Would you follow me around the corner?
IGUANA: Uh, sure? Do you live around--
HGIG: That doesn't matter. Here, come dance with me.

(HGIG stands up and walks onto the dance floor. Without missing a beat the DQ says:)

DQ: Follow him!

(Pushes IGUANA onto the floor and he flows behind the HGIG. The HGIG leads him onto the dance floor.)

HGIG: (Suddenly turns) Want a piece of gum?
IGUANA: Oh. Okay.

(Takes it and pops it into his mouth. Without a moments pause the HGIG grabs IGUANA and presses IGUANA's crotch into his ass. They dance for about 2.5 seconds.)

HGIG: (Points off into the huge crowd of dancing men.) See those guys? Over there?
IGUANA: (Not seeing.) Yea, sure?
HGIG: They want to have a five-some.
IGUANA: (Beat) I'm gonna go sit back down.
HGIG: Aw.

(IGUANA walks back to his chair next to his DRAG QUEEN friend. She is stunned.)

DQ: Gurl! What happened?
IGUANA: He wanted to have a five-some apparently. He sort of just pointed to the entire dance floor and proclaimed it! Plus, he pulled MY crotch to HIS ass. Ha!
DG: Tweaked out freak. Hot, but made one fatal move. (Laughs)
(BLACKOUT)

Ah, romance. I would never go home with someone I just met at last call. Especially someone who wasn't making any sense. He was indeed hot and a five-some would've lead to an interesting tale. It was just a street I did not want to go down again. I was just on that street only two weeks ago.

I had fun nonetheless. It's good to be with friends.

This year's Halloween Costume is going to be:

Sex Pig; Or A Chelsea Boy

Sunday Nights

Last night I went out with my two friends from down the street. One being a drag queen whom I love and the other her boyfriend. Whom I also love. They both treat me better than anyone I've met. They also live in a world I absolutely adore, if for nothing more than to observe.

I sometimes think that after school I will try to start working in a club. Not necessarily as a gogo boy, for I fear I don't have the body of that. I think I've make a better bartender, but that takes practice. I don't know, just this whole club family, the cast of characters. Like her, or her, or him, or him, or he, or she, or they, or it. I meet many of them repeatedly, but because I'm not a local. Nor am I outstanding in my look. I never get remembered. Except for this adorable DJ who I can't love because a friend of mine has been telling me about him. Also I've never really had a conversation with him...

Plus not to mention the whole off hours and the debauchery of it all. It's just an amusing notion. I know it'll probably never happen because I'm always more amazed at it all. Watching the people come and go. Watching the people who know what they're doing, do their thing. Yet, having friends in the life makes me happy.

The other bit of news from last night. Aside from the 5 am return home. Was the guy who hit on me, made out with me. While I successfully managed to knock his drink out of his hands. To sum up how the entire interaction went read this Craigslist Post I wish to post:

Existential Mis-connect At 3:30 AM

You were the hot guy in the blazer you said was denim. I was in the tight T-shirt that said "Hello" in a different language.

Just wanted to let you know you are really hot and a good kisser.

I didn't ask for your number because the idea of letting you fuck my face in a dirty bathroom wasn't where I wanted to be at that moment. In a bedroom setting, I'd let you do it anytime. Taking a chance, but email me if it's you.

Hm, interesting...

I'm a queen, he's a queen. Where is my crown? I'm breaking down.

I was able to push The Tall Man out of my mind all day today (excluding now, because I'm obviously writing about him). Real time, isn't it a bitch?

Yes, sure I got drugged and sexed up this weekend. Perhaps it's the coming down and withdrawl speaking (there's a good chance), but it doesn't seem all that dramatic. Because, I feel that in my body I'm not actually conforming to anything. I was purely acting on instinct and frustration. To explain my thought process of it all will take another night, when I'm not at work with only 9 minutes until I leave.

To put it simply, it just makes sense to me what I did these last two days. Stayed tuned for tomorrow where I'll hit the low and feel clinically depressed and saddened by life.

It hurts so bad, it gets me down, down down...

Time's have been trying and I have been faced with decisions. School has taken a backseat to my life right now. And to prove that nothing in life is permanent I decided that on Monday and Tuesday (today) I would throw plans to the wind and abandon everything that was officially scheduled. Meaning school and homework and therapy. Instead I went down the Judy Garland Way of Dealing with Internal Struggle. Of course that means I did copious amounts of drugs to help ignore the pain. As well as I followed my old route as a slut and had copious amounts of sex with a small group of people. (Only three different individuals in actuality. But the sex was hot and I enjoyed it).

I know it's not the way to do this, but I realize now that normal conventions can go to hell. Sure it's true I'm going through the first step: Denial. I admit that openly. If others can do it, then so can I. After ending this 48 hour excursion I realize that I can now safely return back to my normal life. I let myself have these 48 hours of absolute craziness, and I don't deny I may return to it from time to time. But I am a different person than I was two years ago, or a year ago for that matter. So I know I can allow myself into these views of life.

All day I sat around thinking, "This is so not me! I'm just waisting the day! I'm skipping class and school work to be a deviant of New York...Brava Iguana, brava. You are allowed this."