Gypsy

Sometimes in life we find ourselves saying 'these are my people'. We find a group (often held together by a common denominator) and we adopt them as our go to support network and companions. Human friendship is a strange thing, if I were to explain it to an alien I would probably say something like this, you find a person, check to see if your crazy matches and then spend a lot of time with them/talking to them/tagging each other in random stuff on Facebook until something eventually separates you... What do you do when you are separated? Well you start all over again with someone else! To say it aloud feels weird, it's often an unspoken process for most, the best friendships are made accidentally and unexpectedly.

As many of you know I recently met 4 other people with Tourette's. It was only after fitting in (for like, the first time, ever!) That I truely realised how much I long to talk about my brain without having to explain it! I can't describe how nice it was to allow myself to loosen the reins of 'normality' and just be me. The week with the 'Ticcy Warriors' was a huge release for me and I have returned to normality smoothly and contently, comforted by the knowledge that I am not odd to everybody! 

I have had -and have- amazing friends in my life, brilliant people who've helped me cope in so many ways.The saying "takes one to know one" (aswell as a cutting retort!) Is often very true. How can you say you know someone's suffering if you have not suffered yourself? Is it not obvious that the suffering find more comfort in those who have also suffered? It reminds us that we are not alone.

Recently a friend of mine has moved in and it's been *que harp music, dramatic side look and big teary eyes* wonderful. 

If described in a book Gypsy would be introduced as such: 

Gypsy-lee Kemp was a beautiful mess, a destructive, creative, loud and quiet, earth shatteringly beautiful mess. She sat at the dinning table, hunched over a psychology textbook. She perched socked feet crossed under the chair and eyes darting from book to screen her black coffee slowly turning to caffeinated black water rested by her bare elbow... We must be out of soya milk. Everything was complicated and simple, from her dress to philosophies. A walking contradiction. Her dark hair framed her furrowed brows, the sheer strain of academia after a 12 hour shift etched across her face. She let out a small, frustrated dinosaur noise before sashaying of to the kitchen (presumably to make hash browns). It's 5 in the morning.

So that's Gypsy, as theatrically as I can sum her up. Life is hard, especially when your own body is against you but people like Gypsy, they just do it. They get it and I admire that. It feels like Gypsy has always lived with us and honestly it feels like our home, all of us, snakes and dragons alike. It feels fimilar and safe to sit in comfortable silence in our house, tagging each other in memes and only talking to confirm coffee orders! And that is just what I needed, some calm! I feel able to tic and voice my weirdness fully, cause everyone in the house gets it! 

So, round of applause for Gypsy! Welcome to the nut house... You'll fit right in!