I FOUND MY 16 YO SELF IN A BAR
Wednesday February 3, 1996

I’m not saying hanging out in bars (two nights out of three) does not take its toll.
It does.
I slept in this morning and was unsure if I would not get sick, from yet another night in a smoky bar, but now I feel fine, so I guess I m getting away with it.
Besides: On Monday night I was in, and yesterday morning I opened with:
“Is it possible that I already broke my week?”

So statistically speaking the worst day came after a night of staying in. And a worst day it was, emotionally. Little did I know the evening would bring the best most bad ass night of this year, if not this decade, where I totally found my mojo with help from my friend Sara!

So what happened?

Well it was with Sara, and we went to a bar and drank beer, and I complained her pretty little ears off of her head, whining about how I had lost 20 months after graduation already, and still didn’t have a frickin’ clue what I wanted with my life.
That the beginning of this year was marked by removing some toxic people out of my life, and removing myself out of toxic environments;
But it had been the same environments that held career options, money, fame, becoming a well known author and so on and so forth.

In other words: Although I was happy I had gotten myself out of it, I had paid dearly for it.
And I wasn’t my old self again.

I was not just separated by a fuck load of kilos, from the 16 year old self I had seen on the photos mama and me sorted through last Friday;
I lacked that 16 y.o. mental spark more than anything else!

Her confidence, her naturalness. She did not hang out in bars on Sunday nights and Tuesday nights looking for fun and deep conversation, because she lived in a village;
She also did not need those things.
She was fine being her, and comfortable in her own skin.

So I told Sara about finding those photos and how I felt I had deteriorated. How I had become less vibrant, achieved less, didn’t know myself anymore, and whatever my talents had once been, I would not be able to name them if they hit me in the head.
From the moment of graduation/ university, June 1994 to now, February 1996, I had wasted the already mentioned 20 months.

But in all likeliness: From summer 1988, the moments those photos were taken, to now;
I had wasted 6,5 years.

And the only thing I gained was an education and a lot of kilos.

So I was telling her all those things, and being aware we’d been here before, and it was getting repetitive, I was very aware this was going the wrong way.
I could not go on like this.
Even if wallowing had ever been justified, for example because in December 1994 Bear broke up with me, even then it was enough.
I was done.

And I could just feel the power, who I was all those years ago, flow back into me. Like that movie Highlander where you get the power of the one you kill.
I did not kill anyone, but I felt the life force of 16 year old me flowing back into me.

And all the years in between just fell of me like dead weight.

I’m back in the land of the living.

IN THE JUNGLE WHERE WE PLAY
Friday February 5, 1996

The good news is that I don’t have a hangover from the third night this week, I went out.

Bad news, is that I did spend the first two hours after waking up, worrying sick about how I am going to make it in life.
Analyzing (and in response paralyzing!) all the parts where I had lost my power, and in all honesty did not have a clue how to get it back because I do not know any people who have made it into adulthood with the same aliveness as they had when they were a teen.

The ones who I know who are already working are taking themselves so seriously. If they ever were creative or had dreams, they tell themselves they’ll get back to it one day;
Only to then hang out at the Rock Star Cafe on Thursday night.
Just like me.

Just like them I too need to first touch base with who I am, my own identity, my independence. Thursday night is Guns N Roses night, and it’s like the church of lost souls.
Where Sunday’s Bon Jovi fans, seem to have at least some kind of connection to Tommy and Gina and everyday life;
The Thursday crowd looks as if they’re hurt by it.
With eyes filled with relief, to finally be with their own people and feel human again.

Sunday’s Bon Jovi fans have a We Can Make It mentality, but in a humble, non-NLP way. There is nothing shallow nor overly ambitious about it.

Thursday’s Guns N Roses fans have a I m Unsure If I m Still Alive mentality. I don’t know any of us who are on drugs, or have visible problems, and yet it seems like we’re eaten by life itself, every single day.
Maybe it’s an extrovert introvert thing – Sunday is definitely more outgoing!

I feel at home in both the groups, but I know I am a Guns N Roses fan at heart. Maybe unfortunately, but either way it’s just how it is.
And I too needed to see them, before I could decide on what to do.

I mean I know what I want, but how in God’s name am I going to get there? Still don’t know, but a remark one friend made did stick. It was a really weird one, and you’re probably going to think I m crazy. I bet she didn’t even know herself what it meant, and forgot about it immediately after.
And yet, to me it clicked.

The conversation went something like when I pick up my new life, or have better understanding of how to express my true identity, it will be really good for my sexuality.
“My sexuality?” I asked.
Since I was unaware I had a problem with my sexuality.
Things have been slow since Bear ended our affair, and my aids phobia pretty much preventing me from building a sex life as a single.
But I don’t consider my sex life to be problematic.

She repeated it would be good for my sexuality, and specified: 
“For your masculinity. You have been among women too much, and it’s draining you. You’re male.”

I was absolutely baffled, but I immediately knew she had spoken the truth. It were the words I needed to hear, at the time I needed to hear them.

I’m not talking body stuff (and neither did she), I m not unhappy with the fact that I’m a woman;
But working in a female working environment at the publisher’s, and even my internship before that, has indeed fucked me up good.

In order to feel better, and see where my path leads, I need to man up.