The Fall of The Chameleon

dec17I was never an extreme tattoo fan but I do cherish having something permanently inked on my body, that would represent something in my life or something about me. One of my friends’ dad, who had 7000 tattoos on his body, used to say “our body is a museum and tattoos are the art we want to have on it that would represent milestones”, to which I admirably agree. So, I have always thought of having a tattoo of a chameleon on my body.

Why?? It all started around my mid-20’s when someone said to me I remind her of a chameleon. I asked her why and she said it’s because you are so good at adapting to situations and changes. You are so good at being normal and adjusting yourself to things around. Well, that was what she said. Not to sound arrogant but she does have a point. If I were an X-men, that would have been my super power.

At the age of 36, as I am now, I am beginning to lose that special power. One thing is to accept that as we grow older, we are unable to control the strength of the abilities we have. Muscles get weaker. Cells function slower. I do accept that. But this special power I used to have, the fall of this, has somewhat affected my emotions. And I would like to share with this blog entry that I am acknowledging it, whilst trying to not let it affect me. So, if by any chance you are in the same battlefield as I am in now, it’s good to know you are there and I hope my blog could somehow be of any good use to you.

Now that I am monogamously settled with a partner, the man I truly love, my life has been pretty much been hanging around him. In true words of Fleetwood Mac’s lyrics, “Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’, Cause I’ve built my life around you”, I have somewhat been his chihuahua. It’s not really because I’m clingy or I’m forcing myself to be like this but it’s more so because I love being around his friends as well. So, it was never a struggle for me to be with him.

However, we both have our limits as we have not really moved into a place together. We both have flatmates we respect. The last thing I would like to piss my flatmate off is by having my partner with me at all times at my place. Both my partner and I love sleeping on the living room couch watching TV. And we both know it’s not that good to always OWN that space and not share it with our flatmates. So, we always adjust how and when we will be meeting and where we will be meeting during the weekends. I guess I’m lucky but my partner’s flatmate usually travels a lot. So, at times, I could do week days at my partner’s place too.

Now, this adjustment comes with changes. Changes of scenes. Changes of environment. Changes of emotions. I do believe they have a word for this but I have this ‘after party’ syndrome, where, when everything shuts down, I get myself into this spiraling turmoil of mixed feelings, and sadly most of them is quite negative. I started feeling lonelier, lost or just numb to things around me. I tried so many ways to distract myself from it but it was never successful. On a brighter note, it would only last a day upmost until I feel ok again.

I was out with my partner and one of our best friends today, when the best friend said “Hey, you have been docile this morning”. I didn’t know what that word meant but then he explained that it’s synonymous to ‘calm’. Yeah, I was just quiet since I was not really ready to leave my weekend with my partner. I have this wedding dinner I have to attend out of obligations. Don’t get me wrong. I love the bridegroom and he’s one of my closest uni friends and I HAVE to be with him and his wife on this very day. However, it would just mean I would have to stop the weekend with my partner.

In my opinion, this thing, or sickness, or weakness (call it what you like), to me, has derived from my childhood. I was always on a change. Things were always changing around me until the point I was not even aware of how to feel. Maybe that was how I got myself to adapt to it. Change of schools. Change of friends. Change of addresses. Change of people. My grandparents would always have guests over my house as well and when they leave, it would affect me. These things have snowballed into this huge thing as I age.

You might think I’m being too clingy to my partner but it is not that. This happens with other things too. For example, I had the best time at work on Friday. We had a blast where I happened to be able to do something to make others smile. I was recognized, high-fived, cheered for and pretty much praised. Funny thing was I did not know how to react. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about attention seeking but knowing this would all end after that day, I was in constant fear of having to see the end of it. So, I forced myself not to get too deep into it. I would not want to drown in the whole euphoria of that moment, that would pass.

Normally, I would spend my entire weekend with my partner but today, as I would have to come back home to prepare for that wedding, I had to leave my best friend and my partner at Bondi, while I came back home wishing I was with them instead and just using what’s left of my time with my partner for this weekend. Knowing I would go nowhere feeling this way, I decided to blog again as it’s quite surprisingly therapeutic to write things down.

I used to dislike having doctors dig up with conditions that are named after several reactions or things we all do in our lives. In this modern age, it feels like every little thing we do is being analyzed. You look at kids in the playground, and some call it ‘early stage of pedophilia’ or some call it ‘loneliness’. I mean, in the end, you might just be tired and just happen to stop turning your views on things at a playground. BUT NO! There’s always an analysis to things.

To make things a bit more complicated, I come from a culture where we are not educated on things. Even the word ‘depression’ sounds like something we just make up. To most people in a developed environment, it’s a study. It’s a condition that can be cured. It’s a thing we all have to look into. To us, it’s just a phase we have to just ignore and keep on living. It’s also a bit unhelpful when Buddhism practiced in Myanmar capitalizes ‘fate’ and ‘reincarnation’, we usually chuck these mishaps on the bad things we had done in the past.

After thinking about it on the train ride today, I think it’s important to be analyzed. We can simply NOT ignore these symptoms of ourselves. We go to doctors or we researched on the internet as we would normally do. I have not found what my condition is but I do believe it exists! It’s not as bad as being bipolar and not as serious as depression. But I thought to myself I have to accept it.

So, I have not found a cure to this and I don’t want to be able to. I’m not a doctor. But I am someone who wants to make sure I’m living things right. And according to the meaning of ‘right’, I mean being happy. Some of my friends, who have undergone depression, were able to cure themselves. But some dangerously are in the umbrella of this impression that repeating ‘positivity’ in their lives forcefully has cured them. I am aware of those who screams ‘I AM SO POSITIVE’ or ‘THE SKY IS BLUE’, whilst struggling so hard to adjust themselves to the way they are supposed to think and the way they are actually reacting towards it. To me, that’s not being cured. That would even force them to become worse.

So, this is what I had done today and if it’s of any help to you, so be it. It’s quite simple. I thought I have failed to adjust to changes around me as this almighty chameleon and I might have. But somehow, I think adjusting comes with acceptance. I mean, in the end, life goes on. I will see my partner again next week. I will have euphoric times like the one on Friday at other events. It’s only fair that there’s some intervals in between. I just have to accept that this is part of the whole package and I just have to go with the flow and change my colors again accordingly.

With that thought, it does feel good to be back to blogging. And once again, I wanna thank everyone who reads my blog and I hope, in one way or another, I could inject at least some good things towards your life.

Testing for HIV

As someone who started to live an active gay life 14 years ago, I should be used to HIV tests. However, I woke up to this hottest day in Sydney on a Saturday morning, nervous as fuck. Despite the nerves kicking in my system for attention, I was pretty amused at how there was a lack of hangover this morning, especially after I had been out drinking last night.

Parramatta, the ‘burb I live in, is well known to be a city away from a city out in the west of New South Wales. But this has never stopped it from having a few dodgy weekends in a month where train schedules are cancelled and replacement bus rides are given. I do not have an issue with bus rides but having to catch a bus, then a train, would only take more time than just a simple one way trip to the city via a train.

As predicted, after the bus had taken me suburbs closer to the city to Granville, I discovered I would have to wait for a train for 14 more minutes. I had no choice but to uber myself out of this mess. Call me a superficial bitch but I like to see how my uber driver is going to look like and if I have time, I would actually pick the good looking ones and cancel the fugly ones. I do not have anything against people I am not attracted to; I just think it’s only fair that I get a good something to feast my eyes on, especially for services I am charged for.

I chose this uber driver called Adam. For the sake of privacy, I will not share the plate number on this site. For some reason, Adam has this peace sign on his Uber Avatar and although I had no time to pick or delete the Uber drivers, I still wanted to check out who was driving me to the clinic.

Finally, Adam showed up and dayuum he was fine. Call me crazy but I have always fantasized about a great “how did you guys meet” story on my wedding day and at times like this, I would wonder if Adam would be my husband one day, even though I was so dead sure he does not play for my team. But then again, my friends had described my gaydar as super-rusty.

Adam was fun to converse with. He seems mature for his age. Half Persian and half Turkish at the age of 24, he was a fine young man with a sense of humor. He has this really annoying high pitched laugh, that almost sounds like a donkey, whose leg has been caught in a bear trap. But I find that laugh pretty cute. Maybe it was just his sense of humor that got me all moist as well.

I played it cool, I guess. I hinted him two times about my gender preference. He also hinted by conversing about two gay clubs he had been to and a few others he had heard of. It was a nice ride with Adam but nothing came out of it but just a mighty fine 35 minutes uber ride with a great view and a genuinely fun conversation. (HaveĀ  I mentioned how he was wearing a tight shorts and how he had those sexy chunky thighs?)

Image result for drop crotch shorts mensI was greeted by a very hot guy at the clinic. I believe it’s one of those clinics set up by this Acon in Australia, where they provide free HIV or STD tests for anybody but it’s just super gay friendlier. This hot guy was wearing a tight black polo and one of those annoying Drake-crotched blue jeans shorts. In case you are wondering what I meant by Drake-crotched shorts, it’s those ones that have too much space in the crotch area, which is pretty much not bulge-siters-friendy. I believe they call these drop crotch pants.

The hot guy turned out to be my doctor. He seems pretty good at his job as this warm communicable hot doctor. I guess he was Italian since he called me “Bello”. Now, the last time I had an HIV test in Sydney, I had to bend down doggy style and wait for the doctor to put a cotton-head stick in my butt hole. I think it was some old guy but even then I was nervous as fuck. I broke into cold sweat while Dr Hot was talking to me and this was not entirely because I was about to check if I was HIV positive or negative but the reason was more because I would not want to expose my hairy butt to Dr Hot.

As he inserted his needle, and I mean a real one, into my finger, he looked up to me and said “You have not been drinking a lot of water, have you?” I chuckled. I like it when hot men try to be cheeky and funny while taking blood tests. I was never a big fan of needles so I did think that treatment was quite necessary. Dr Hot then took out this kit and he took out this stick that looked like something you would put into a rabbit’s ear. He then instructed me to go to the toilet to take a urine test and to put the cotton head stick inside my ass. He also took the shorter one out to use it for throat swab. Thank God he did not have to do my ass swab and I was asked to do it on my own.

If there was something I do not like about people, it’s how they are so quick at assuming things. So, Dr Hot asked me what I have planned for the day, to which I said ‘possibly staying at home. When I asked him back the question, he answered quite the same but the answer was followed by a sentence that has the phrase ‘husband’ in it. “Oh. You should try to contact the clinics for PREP and PEP. My husband is one of the doctors there.” Yes, Dr Hot, I get it. I was not making a pass on you and you are way out of my league.

Thank technology for rapid tests but I got my result out a few minutes later. To be honest, I was already naturally calm after a ride with the uber hottie and after a short convo about butt swabs and husband promotions with Dr Hot.

No matter how nerve wrecking it is to go for HIV tests, I find it more nerve wrecking if I build it up to longer periods in between tests. It has been two years and I could not sleep most of last week, in hope that I would come out not infected with HIV. An uber ride with my half Persian/half Turkish dream husband, a visit to a hot doctor and a “negative” test result later, I was relieved.

I thought about celebrating my negative HIV result by getting a bootie call but I guess just by these two gentlemen this morning, I was pretty much satisfied. The weather was too hot anyways…