Harmonic bomb

I didn’t know what to call this. I’m finding myself overwhelmed at the moment by the hugely strong urge to fall in love. It’s happening all the time right now, I count a pretty even mixture of men, women, cis, trans, appropriate, less appropriate…

I don’t know if it’s hormonal, or if it’s because I’m about to step into some really very frightening therapy in a couple of days’ time, and this is my Being, trying for a last hoorah in case the universe implodes, sort of “the condemned heart ate a hearty breakfast” or something.

It’s driving me a bit crazy. And it’s not lust (though that’s in there), it’s more like intense romantic passion – and now that I think of it, pretty much how people describe the standard teen girl crushes. So maybe it’s just me toppling backwards into my true adolescence.

I have never in my life wanted to grab someone and hug them so badly as I do right now. I guess that means I could use one myself.

And the people I’m falling for are all people going through hard times. So partly I’m resonating with them (especially I tend to resonate with fellow abuse survivors, even before I know that’s something we have in common). And partly it’s this bloody Rescuer habit of mine kicking in – but it’s me I want to rescue, or more honestly, it’s me who wants to be rescued.

It’s been heartbreaking just now getting to know a young trans man who’s afraid that testosterone will turn him into his abusive father. And it’s been heartwarming in the extreme, being part of the flood of reassurance coming at him from fellow trans abuse survivors, telling him he’s better than that.

Listen: the ultimate revenge we have on our abusers is that we’re both better and happier than them. This is a true thing. Soit*.

Harmonic bomb? Almost every night for around 7 years when I was a little kid (and being abused), I had the same dream:

The authorities are looking for these harmonic bombs that are hidden somewhere in London, and I find them in our attic – like giant blue soda siphon gas cylinders. Then I’m in a log cabin up a mountain, it’s morning, I get up and go outside, and the sky is the colours of spilled petrol, and the air is filled with a shimmering music – and I smile and say to myself “Oh, the harmonic bombs have gone off, and now everything’s going to be different…”

I don’t know what’s going to happen next. And that’s good enough for me.

*Soit: this is French, and when Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek says “Make it so”, this is what he means. I suspect it’s why he – as a Frenchman – says that. May it be so. May it be so.


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