a couple weeks ago my most dearest grandmother fell very sick, and went to stay in the intensive care unit for the third or fourth time just this year. this time she couldn't make it, long story short.

i had plenty emotional experiences which i don't wish to share here because they belong to the socially acceptable part of losing someone. in sum, it was not so hard for me as i always thought. every time i've cried for the past years for real reasons (not fiction), it's been because of her. sometimes i missed her, sometimes i thought about her death. thinking about it made me desperate. but i was ok when it actually happened. i believe it hasn't hit me properly yet.

on the other side, if one takes a look at my first blog posts they'll be able to see she was one of the main reasons why i kept the abuse i suffered in secret for my whole life. after her death i felt a strange relief, as if a knot had been untied. i later came to the conclusion that i've built my whole life around keeping that secret from her and my mom to make them happy. i thought a lot about why she had to die now and i believe that it was because i was living one of the only moments when i could handle everything in a healthy way. i haven't had sex since then. i've had my compulsions - very strong, destructive compulsions - but it seems that my joie de vivre is finally back. i cut the dose of one of my meds to half without my doctor's advice and that made me feel much better, later he told me that it was ok to do that. i've been progressing personally and professionally and it finally seems like the world is my workshop again. she left exactly when i was at my best. i spent my whole life taking care of her without her knowing and in her death she took care of me...

i started writing this yesterday and fell asleep. i always write so late in the night and that happens often. today i dreamed that i was gonna have sex with this guy that didn't accept the fact that i didn't want him anymore, whom i discussed in a previous post. then i went to a public bathroom before and there was the cousin who abused me - my second dream depicting him - he was naked and we talked about the guy i was gonna have sex with. i'm pretty sure i knew he was dead. he was physically weird - he made these weird movements when peeing. afterwards i went to have sex with the guy and then all these people started to come in our room - it was going to be an orgy, i didn't know that before. i didn't want that, i loathed that possibility, but i accepted it. then an old art teacher who really liked me came in and scolded us and i was glad she did. i told her i didn't want to do that and she wasn't really mad at me. she told me she was traveling the world playing games and she had some very weird hair all over her body.

it turns out, i really do feel like every time i'm preparating to have sex it's an encounter with my past.