Thursday, 14 March 2013

Dangerously Codependant


I feel it’s about time that y’all heard a bit more about my dear fiancé. For both our sakes, I’ll refer to her as Moony. My Moony. This is likely to get sappy, so this is your fair warning.

The time has come, mostly because she just demanded I write a post and include her, but also because I realised I have some important shit to go through here.

First off, we’re both incredibly reliant on each other. Many might see this as a bad thing, that I depend on somebody else to such a degree, as she does too, but I find it comforting. I like the fact that I have somebody that I trust more than I trust myself – strange but true – and that trusts me entirely.

Sure, we both have our own battles to fight, but that’s what makes us stronger. Moony suffers from anxiety disorder, though we can’t quite pin down whether it is general anxiety or social, but it’s likely a mix of the two. The anti-depressants backfired at first, as they do for everyone, and the first few weeks were incredibly difficult. Work, school, life in general becomes nearly impossible for those that suffer anxiety, and I never realised just how tricky it can be.

I admit that a few times I genuinely feared for her life, and was scared every time I got a text, scared to delete them when my phone became full, in case it was the last I’d receive. Saying goodnight could be the last time we spoke, and it made me appreciate how much we have, how lucky we are that we really found each other, in the middle of London on a crowded pavement. (Literally, since we were sat on the concrete and I saved her spot.) I also learnt depression is no laughing matter and I will floor anybody who claims to have it and is just a bit upset about something. There’s nothing quite like first hand experience, even from the outside, to really show you how serious something is.

But here’s the thing. She got through it. Not completely yet, sure, but enough that I feel the familiar rush of affection and quiet appreciation I always get whenever I see a text now.

If anyone has somehow missed it, my partner lives in Sweden. This makes it difficult when either of us are going through hard times or having to put up with something and the other can’t actually reach out and comfort. But we’ve got used to calling on Skype, or video chatting when we feel up to it and our connection isn’t bad.

My dysphoria goes away when Moony is around, and everything is instantly easier. I can work properly with her motivation, feel safe in a house I am trapped within. I would never have even admitted to myself that I’m trans* without her encouragement, or have a therapist, a name, friends who support me. I lost my closeness with my family, but I gained a proper family, one I chose and trust entirely.

My schoolwork, family trouble and transition all become too much sometimes, and I suffer stress-induced headaches fairly often – near daily – but I have Moony to make sure I’m alright, tell me I’m loved.

Against all odds, not even the ocean has kept us apart. She visited in February, and December before, and I’m due to fly out alone for the first time, first trip since last January, when we were barely off the ground, on April 3rd.

I can’t wait.

Everything is so much simpler with Moony at my side, making everything manageable simply by the way she smiles, or drinks tea quite loudly, complains about losing the snuff she had just a moment ago, honestly, or breathes.

This is rather turning into an appreciation post, which is what it was always going to be, I know.

There are good days and bad days for us both, but knowing we’re both going to meet up on Skype at the end of it, as we do every single day, and being able to sit in companionable silence, even through the internet, but knowing the other is there, if needed, is amazing.

I guess where I’m trying to go with this, really, is to show that love isn’t that difficult to find, you just have to be willing to let it go where it takes you. It’s stressful, and wonderful and terrifying all at once, but you find you can’t imagine life before that person was a part of it, have no idea how you managed and find yourself fitting them into memories.

I love you, Moony, and you are perfect to me.

Du är vacker, och du är söt. Jag älskar dig, min lille Moony.

London, Soho. The shop is for yoghurts. The man was a happy accident. We love you, man. 

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