It has been a rock n’ roll week, that’s why I was quiet without writing, also, I’ve been busy reading interesting books and taking decisions at the very last minute.
Last week I spoke to my Swedish friend in a very entertaining night about politics and how the prime minister in Canada is destroying the country. She lend me a book called “The Armageddon Factor: the rise of Christian nationalism in Canada”, crippy book about how the “new born again” people, evangelical and fanatics are taking important positions in government. When I went to the Madonna concert last weekend, I was checking in Google a place where to be closer to the Arena without paying parking fee. I got in shock when I realized the quantity of Evangelical, Mormons and other Christian churches were in the area, at least, just around the Scotiabank Centre there were like 5. It’s not casual last year, a teenager gay commit suicide in the surroundings victim of bullying. I can’t imagine the environment where this feminine boy was exposed. I had to stop reading it because it was too much, sometimes the information was far from my imagination, it was real. Churches that were against abortion and gay marriage, the fundamentalism revealed publically, the rallies, cry outs and the ways they performed services against these “abomination” reminds me that documentary “Jesus Camp”. And Canada is not that far from that.
The library sent me a notification that the second book of Alison Bechdel, the one who wrote “Fun Home”, the book that blew up my mind in pieces, was finally available. The title is “Are you my mother?”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Are_You_My_Mother%3F_(memoir) Longer, complex, dense, ambitious and with a psychoanalytic heavy weight content let me speechless. If you check the reviews in Amazon you’ll read things like “not fluid” “too into psychology” and so on; which is true, if you’re expecting something lineal, easy going, from point A to B, isn’t the classic comic strip book you’re expecting for. There are 3 main stories: Alison and her relationship with her mother (or invisible mother), her relationship with her therapists and therapy itself, and the analysis with psychoanalytic tools in order to decoding her life and other relationships altogether. Complex, intimate, deep, despite she decodes personal information, the book is coded. Super interesting but you have to have a background in classic literature and feminism without mentioning basic psychology books and authors like Freud, Winnicott, Jung and of course, Virginia Wolff, a lesbian icon.
Some parts of the book reminded my own therapy. I miss my therapist but not therapy…not really. In this book Bechdel says therapy is something that helps in short term while psychoanalysis goes into the deep conscious-unconscious and that take years. I was shock, that’s why sometimes in therapy I was feeling fine but with the sensation in my mouth things were always unsaid or unheard remained. After all, my therapy was more counselling or coaching. It helps in short term, but when you got a big depression the root of that it can’t be found in the shallow grave of your consciousness. Well, I finished it in 2 days, trying or avoiding not dragging me down like “Fun Home”. So far, nothing has happened, just the sensation of missing my mother or missing my therapist in this case, missing her as a person.
My last minute decision last week was to register myself in the Finance I course, at Algonquin College here in Ottawa. I was planning to have a Fall break since I took 2 courses on Summer and I’m fighting at the office to be reimbursed because this course with the book costs 600$ and the 400$ I haven’t finished to pay it in my credit card for the Summer, everything together jumped to over 1000$. And I haven’t done shopping for my shot for my surgery. I’m crossing the fingers for the reimbursement, it would be a relief.
Last Thursday I forced myself to go to a burlesque, drag show. It had to start at 9pm. I waited outside until 10.30 and there was nobody. The club was empty and I didn’t go inside, it was useless and pointless. In my way back I got the newspaper X-tra, the gay journal. I sat in the car, I start checking it and….OMG, OMG, OMG, my picture was there. The picture was taken while I was marching at the gay pride. Well, finally, I’m out, and very out, at least for the Ottawa/Gatineau. I can’t deny I was happy but after I got a bit scared knowing my ex in Hull reads religiously this newspaper. I don’t know what could happen, she’s a pro stalker, crazy bitch and the worst, an excellent researcher. So, she could find me, another reason to cross my fingers.
Finally, yesterday Sunday, there was the Steampunk group gathering. Of course I was nervous. The plan was to play social games. I’m so old….my generation was checks and cards. The typical thing happened again. People who know each other, talk and stay in a group. Also, the division was clear, francophones and anglos. I introduced myself like a new member, there were 2 new boys, and we were sitting far from the person who organised the event, Meredith. It was awful how the 2 boys and me were so uncomfortable, the francos were in their universe and never showed interest to ask us question or to make us participate. After 30 min of suffering, one of the boys left, 15 min later, the other two, both were friends. So, one left, me! I just stand up and I checked the games in the other table. Meredith brought a bunch of them all unknown for me. One franco got one game, explained the rules to his friends and they started to play, everything in French. My curiosity pushed me to choose the Chinese chequers board. Meredith explained me the rules and me and other 4 people, this group was more bilingual, started to play. We learnt Meredith was a pro in Chinese chequers. And after, a guy who came late, brought a game called Zombie dices. Very entertaining, I had fun and I won in that game. I really enjoy spend the night with them, but the very beginning was just horrendous, so painful being social in Ottawa. By the way, the 2 guys who left were from New Brunswick, they made feel totally outsiders, they left without saying bye, at the beginning I thought one was going to the bathroom, but no, that happens all the time. My resistance was a bit longer than usual. Still, awful, the unwelcome sensation is for everyone who doesn’t belong or is orphan without a group in Ottawa.