when i was younger, i went by the nickname puppy.
it didn’t catch on with many, but the closest to me knew me as that- mostly that. gabey was often used too. but the ones that truly mattered knew where my heart laid- with this caricature of an animal that i identified so heavily with. my “puppy” was not just a docile dog- he was a protector, a rabid beast, with a golden retriever exterior. he was a guardian of mine. he had to be strong.
this blog is called the rabbit hole because, nowadays, i feel more like a bunny. i have for a long while, actually.
or really, it’s more like the bunny who’s always been inside of me that the dog protected… has now taken over. puppy got kicked down too many times- he retreated with a whimper to the darkest recesses of my ribs, and cowered in the cage.
i wrote a comic when i was in high school that aptly described how i had begun this metamorphosis, through the metaphor of lycanthropy.
the werewolf that bit me set in motion a transformation i never expected of myself. before his influence, i was nothing like the beast i turned into. i always had a semblance of it inside of me, but i was a happy-go-lucky puppy for a long while. and a soft spoken bunny before even that.
i had hope, naivete. ignorance, enthusiasm. i was stripped of much of it in being violated. it felt as if my good will was stolen. it felt like getting backed into a corner, and realizing i needed to know how to bite. my puppy might have had the power to growl, keep the sweet baby bunny inside in a safer place, but he’d never had to fight.
and that night, i wish i’d have put up more of a fight.
so, from that point on, the puppy learned to snarl. to bare teeth- and to mean it. although so much was gained, so much was lost.
my bunny hasn’t come out unscathed. she is frightened. she is alert. but she also has become accustomed to being hurt, to being hunted. what other life is there but this? what other choice is there but run? especially now- especially after this shift. when the wolf retreated, when there was no threat to the fear.
she ran and ran, but could not escape the clutches of the life she’d always known. she got lost, for awhile. hurt, for awhile. confirmed her fears and her thoughts, for awhile.
my friends call me bunny now, not puppy. because she is where i live. the ones who matter do, anyway (which is so very few). it means a lot to me- speaks to the soft voice inside me that fears piping up. the bunny likes being recognized, likes not being seen from behind bared teeth. she is a sweet thing, an innocent thing, even after all the beatings i’ve taken.
i’ve learned to balance my fear and my hope. my love and my life experiences. my darkness and my light. my bunny and my puppy.
it’s a continuous process, as everything is. maybe one day i will just feel like light, or like warmth, or like life. just existence personified, since that’s all we are. energy. maybe i won’t need a cute animal mask to present who i am to the world.
i truly do hope to release my unadulterated energy at some point- bunny and puppy and all of the above. every part of my heart deserves to be honored, i know it.
i hope all the puppyboys and bunnygirls and nebulous beautiful people/creatures/souls that embody them are happy. i hope one day i’ll be all of the above. i hope one day i won’t feel changed by what has happened to me- but simply me. i know i can reach it. and i know they’ve helped me so much in getting there.