"...Is sometimes what you need"

I don't cry often.  Almost never, in fact.  It's interesting when you think about how little adults cry.  I mean, we've all cried in our lives.  As babies, of course.  Then up through adolescence.  After puberty, a bit less.  A touch here and there in high school.  Maybe some in college.  Then, we become adults.  We stop crying.  Perhaps this is not the same story for most women.  I don't know.  Regardless adult women cry less than little girls do.  That has to be true.
I am sitting here trying to think of all the times I have cried in the last ten years.  Not too many times.  I cried after my grandmother died; not right away I might add.  It took me a few days.  I cried when my dog died.  I sobbed, to be honest.  I teared up during a recent fight my fiancee and I got into.
I probably cried five or six other times in the last decade.  I have my moments when depression overwhelms me.  I usually don't let it get to the point of tears but it can go there.
The night I told my fiancee about my TS, I cried in bed.
I also cried the next night when we were talking about my not wanting her to see my tics.  I felt so alone and not alone at the same time.  I wanted to curl up into a ball and just cry by myself.  But she didn't let that happen and I am glad for that.  I sobbed in her arms.  I couldn't control it.  I felt like I wanted to run and hide on an island of despair as I had so many times before.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't hide because she knows of my secret.  There was nowhere to hide.
This was a good feeling.  It is a good feeling to know that when I run away, looking for a place to hide someone is right behind me, making sure I am OK.  She gives me space, which I need.  But I know she is hanging back with worry in her heart.
The morning after I told her about this awful pain I've been hiding in my head for all these years, I caught her crying.  It is not an uncommon sight to see my fiancee cry.  Yet, this was different.  I opened the bathroom door to see her in tears.  I asked her what was wrong.  She said, "I hurt."
I thought she meant physically.  I thought maybe she had a bad headache or cramps or something.  She said, "I hurt in my heart."
She preceded to tell me how much it hurt her to not know about my pain and to not be able to help me.  The thing is she has helped me immensely over our courtship.  Just her being in my life makes it easier to deal with the demon.  And maybe now that she is aware of my pain, it will be even easier.  That remains to be seen.
I wish I could cry that easily, sometimes.  But I cannot.  It is not machismo that prevents the tears.  Maybe it is the strength I have built for myself over the years that keeps them at bay.  Whatever the reason...I seldom cry.  But I do know how good it can feel.

"...a warm safe place, where as a child I'd hide."

I am taking a Spanish class.  I haven't been in a classroom setting in 12 years.  I have class once a week for three hours.  I have been wanting to take a Spanish class for a while.  It finally worked out with my schedule so I jumped on it.  It's exciting.  It's a very different feeling taking a class at my age than it was when I went to college.  Even the classes I really liked back then didn't ever get me excited about attending them.  But I am excited to go to class, now.  That being said, I find myself in an uncomfortable situation.
I am back in school.  I sit at a desk in a room full of other people.  It has been a long time since I had to deal with TS in that setting.  It brings back memories.  The good 'ol days when I fought to suppress tics for hours at a time.  It brings back memories of taunting and bullying.  Classrooms are tough, even for an expert tic suppressor like myself.
The urge to belt out a big, fat vocal tic is incredible.  It still makes its way out there but in a much quieter fashion than it would like to have been heard.  I don't care as much as I used to about being noticed.  And in a room full of adults, most of them my age or thereabout, they probably don't give a shit what I am up to.  I am, however, aware of the eyes that may or may not be on me.  I can feel them looking, watching, observing.  So, no matter how comfortable I may be I still fear being caught.  I am always scared of "them" seeing me.
And as long as "they" are out there watching, I'll be hiding.  

"Even if things end up a bit too heavy..."

I find myself living within a new set of rules.  I catch myself hiding my tics when I know I don't need to.  And once caught I laugh at myself and let the tics fly (to an extent).  The vocal tics are a bit louder, now.  Before the confession, I would always be conscious of where she was in the house.  Is she in the next room?  How loud can I be right now?  Is she going to walk in on me while I am having an apparent conversation with the wall?
But things are different, now.  Although I don't want her to see any of it, there is no legitimate reason to hide it.  She already knows.  So, in baby steps I am letting go a bit.
The funny thing is I find I am more comfortable with my TS.  Everywhere.  Not just in the house.  I am less afraid to let strangers see it than I used to be.  Maybe it's because my fiancee knows about it and that is way more important than any stranger's observations.  I am not saying it is a ticcing free-for-all out there in the world but I have unconsciously let go of the reigns a tiny bit.  It is a new realm for me.  I am existing in a new frame of mind that will only evolve into something new.  We shall just have to wait and see where it takes us.  All of us.  I feel naive and late to the party.  My reluctance to "step out" for so long has put me in a box.  I was a child.  I shall rise above that, now.  I don't know how quickly or to where exactly I am rising but something new is happening.
I just hope I don't float away.

Guest Post: Tic's fiancee.

So, its been four and a half hours since I heard the news.  Since then, I've read all the blog posts and had a bit of an emotional break down because I tried to write a response comment to all of what I read.  As soon as I hit the button to publish, all was lost due to an error.  So, I will make an attempt to recapture all of what I had written there.

As I was listening to this confession (about 4 and 1/2 years overdue), I felt myself sinking into myself, looking out two little windows at him...  a little dizzy... "Am I really sitting here on this couch?"
What does this mean? What is this alternate identity I was unaware of? I said: "Are you sure you have it?" "Who told you that?" In a response to some of the comment posts: Either he is really THAT good at hiding it, or I am a total moron.  But who really does look at the one they love and think "Why does he do that?... Maybe I should google it."  Later I asked him if he googles any of the things that I do.

I know that he makes noises- Everyone does some little thing that comforts them....
I know that he smells books- I really think it's adorable. Hell, I've even done it cause he makes it look so enjoyable. I think I kind of like the smell of books, too. I think its cute; the way he thinks I'm cute when I lick jars, spoons, lids and any other surface with food dripping down it (why waste a perfectly good paper towel?).  I know that he clicks the mouse incessantly sometimes- I just honestly thought he was entertaining himself, the way he does when he repeats things he hears on the radio and tv.
I honestly don't mind any of it. Nor did I think it any more strange than some of the things other people do.

In conversation with a friend during my recent trip out of town, I was asked if I felt there was anything missing from my life. I realized, as I said it out-loud, that I DO have everything I need. That is because of the man I love. He works very hard to pay the bills (when I can't), he does the dishes every night (when I make a mess in the kitchen), he makes breakfast for me most mornings (when I am too lazy to get up earlier), and he pretty much sees to it that my life is easy. Who could ask for more? Hopefully, that it is not because of his tics that he feels he has to do these things.

No one ever wants to find out that the person they love is tormented daily by something that they cannot control.  The biggest problem I have with his TS is that I cannot carry any part of this burden that he bears... that I can't really do anything to stop it.
He apologized after telling me. I am the one who is sorry. Sorry for not being aware. Sorry that I thought nothing of it when he told me something "bothered" him. It is much easier to break my stupid little habits than for him to fight these overbearing urges. This is a new step into our life together.

I really am in shock a little...
There really is so much I don't know.
I blame it on the "love goggles" I've been wearing ever since the first weekend I spent with him. They have never come off since, and something like this has no chance of changing that. I have a wonderful man, who makes me happy. I only wish that someday I can make his life a little easier.
I really don't know if I believe it still. Guess I need time to process.
Thanks to everyone for all the support and kind words over the years. I wish I could have helped him too.
I love you, Tic.

Soon to be, Mrs. Tic