Mosh Halloween 2011

01/11/2011 01:1231/10/2011 22:3131/10/2011 22:3131/10/2011 23:0431/10/2011 23:0431/10/2011 23:05
31/10/2011 23:0631/10/2011 23:0731/10/2011 23:0731/10/2011 23:0831/10/2011 23:2131/10/2011 23:21
31/10/2011 23:2331/10/2011 23:2331/10/2011 23:2531/10/2011 23:2631/10/2011 23:2831/10/2011 23:28
31/10/2011 23:3031/10/2011 23:3131/10/2011 23:3131/10/2011 23:3131/10/2011 23:3231/10/2011 23:37

Mosh Halloween 2011, a set on Flickr.

Sooo… If you read my previous post about being in the wrong universe, you’ll know that Halloween has very unhappy associations for me.

I had thought I’d give it a miss this year, not go out at all, even though it was a Monday and I love my Mondays at Mosh because of the awesome dubstep sets that DJ Tom Hughes plays.

After writing the previous rant, I was, to be honest, in a bad place. But then I phoned up my mate Nat, cried down the phone to her and she very sweetly and calmly brought me out of my blue funk. When you’re feeling terrible and alone and hurt and four years old, there seems to be no way out, no possible respite. Sometimes, you need the right word from the right person to lever you out of that state. On your own, you can’t see how to get there from here, you need a map provided by someone outside your own head.

Then I slept. A lot. My brain does that. I haven’t got narcolepsy or anything but when I’m very stressed / sad, I go to bed and sleep. I’ll have fucked-up dreams and wake up not better / happy but different. And that can sometimes be enough.

So, I woke up a slightly different person to the one who wrote about universes. And I decided that, fuckit, I was going to go out and I was even going to dress up. Something I have never done before. (Well, I’m sure I did as a little kid but certainly I can’t remember anything post the age of ten.)

I went into town, did a slightly deranged march to the costumey place and bought scads of fake blood, latex, and bits of a priest uniform. Then I got ready and went out! I looked like this:

01/11/2011 02:16

I had fun. I nibbled many girls’ necks and a couple of cleavages. I dripped blood on people, danced round like an undead idiot and generally pretended that Halloween wasn’t to be dreaded. And after a while, as with all pretending, it became semi-true. I replaced my real ghosts of Halloween with, to me, the far less scary ones of the fictional supernatural world. You could argue that’s why we have all those stories in the first place but that’s a whole other research paper.

As another side issue, what is it about vampires that girls/women love so much? Honestly, I got away with far ruder behaviour last night than at any other time, simply because I had fangs and was dripping blood. It’s not like I was more attractive than normal and yet, in some way, I must have been. Although I kept in character, as did my “victims,” there was something behind the pretense that was real and sensual and of a liminal wildness. Maybe it’s the idea of seduction, maybe the fantasy abrogation of choice and therefore responsibility which in turns may be liberating? Again, I’m sure there are many learned papers out there about all this, somewhere.

I got home at 3ish, had a shower to wash away all the blood and make-up and packed my fangs away in their ridiculous tiny coffin carry case.

Then, as I am me and can’t simply sit around enjoying being happy, I started to ponder why I felt good. I came up with an explanation: I did something yesterday that was a bit scary and totally new. I made a new memory that wasn’t shared or initiated by my ex. Whether that’s moving on or avoiding dealing with those memories just yet, I don’t know.

But if you’re in a similar place, maybe you should see if you can get out of those closed loops of pain in the same fashion? Obviously, I don’t mean you should dress up as a vamp and go round biting people, I mean that there might be a new ground for you to find. And this new territory will be necessarily less cluttered with associations and totems from another time, another person. I’m not being glib about the likelihood, though: after three years of going through those loops, there have been many, many times I’ve failed in trying to escape them.

I’m also not saying that I’m cured or I’ve done the mythical “moving on” that apparently normal humans do. But last night was a few hours of happiness, an escape and, in a somewhat bizarre way, a glimpse of another universe where, yes, I’m a vampire priest but also, I’m doing okay.

Really, if I can get to okay more often, that would be enough for me. 🙂