Dance Tonight

Finally. Finally. Finally. I had forgotten what it felt like. I am excited to go out tonight. I am really excited. It's been so so long. The last night I went out with no anxiety was the housewarming party I went to in early August where I ended up at 31's house late night and then sick the next day where the saga began. I should have heeded the warning signs my body was sending me that night. I was exhausted. I didn't want to go out AT ALL. I really, really didn't. When I got to the party everything tasted weird. I couldn't get drunk. I kept eating and drinking self-medicating like I do and nothing worked. I went from Rum Punch to beer to shots to beer and back. Then I ended up at 31's and woke up feeling all wrong. And the rest, you know.

But it was been two weeks since I have relapsed or gotten some related illness. I am feeling my confidence come back a little. I am feeling safe. I am feeling like my body won't do something crazy tonight and that I will actually have fun. I am feeling like my body will be a beautiful asset tonight instead of an embarassing handicap. I won't spend the night on pins and needles wondering and waiting and anticipating my body to do something bad or embarassing or uncomfortable keeping me from being where I am and enjoying myself.

The first time I went out in a big group since this happened was to A's birthday party in the beginning of September. I was extremely apprehensive. I was apprehensive about not drinking and people asking me why. I was apprehensive because I was on double the dosage of the steroids that I am on now and my mouth and eyes twitched and I couldn't stand still and focusing on a conversation was challenging. My mood was erratic. I was exhausted because I hadn't slept in weeks. I felt like my skin was too small for my body. It was awful. So the social anxiety began. And it hasn't gone away, even though I have adjusted somewhat to my new circumstances.

Any socializing I have done since that fateful night in August has been in very controlled settings. Either on Roosevelt Island at ML and Farf's house or with AC or A or V or BE or S or C in small groups or one on one. That is one of the ways I have adjusted. I have changed my style to make myself feel safe. I have kept my life so small the past four months; a big contrast from who I had been, someone who loved the unpredictable, loved going to new places, appreciated when things didn't work out as expected and enjoyed adventure. The less I knew about the night, the more appealing it was, the more excited I was. Like nights with AC used to be, where we'd start drinking in the afternoon in our apartment and could end up at 4:00am at a party on the Upper West Side. We'd just flow and let our whims be our guide.

Tonight is V's 30th birthday and we are going out to dinner and then we are going dancing. I don't even know where we are going dancing. And I don't care. I am excited about my outfit. I am excited about being out. I feel my mojo coming back. I feel hot and sexy. I feel in control. I feel like I will be okay. The only problem I foresee is getting tired before everyone else. And that's not such a big problem. I will just leave if that happens.

On my birthday I stayed up until 8:00am and had one of the best nights of my life. But that was an exception. It wasn't that I felt confident in my body or socially comfortable. It was more that I felt the love that I needed so much. And I felt free to run around the table because I couldn't sit still and be as unfocused and twitchy as I was because it was my birthday and again, I was among friends and family in a controlled environment and there was something about that night that was so magical it took me out of the hell I had been in until just days earlier. It was like the stars were all aligned in my favor that night making sure everything was perfect. And it was.

But tonight will not be a so-called 'controlled' environment. I don't know where we're going after dinner. I don't know who's all going to be there. But I know we're going dancing. And I am free now instead of locked inside the prison of my body so I can give and interact and socialize and hear the music and dance and lose myself in the night. And I plan to do all of that. Mojo. It's a beautiful thing. And it's crazy how your perception of your body and physical appearance can change simply because your body is working. It's nothing more than that. It works again so I think it's beautiful, more than I ever did. It's one of those you don't realize what you've lost until it's gone type things. So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, that is one of the many things I am thankful for this year.