Solo Fight

There is something very important about being alone. I mean, we're all alone, ultimately, in our heads, right? The words lover, partner, toyfriend, play partner, nesting, all indicate that there's someone else on the other side of that. You can't be the lover of no one, although you can be the lover of yourself, I guess. 

I asked my owner the other day if he ever got lonely when we were playing. When I'm silent, or sobbing, or on the floor at his feet. "Rarely," he said. Which doesn't mean never.  But we are not equals in this, and he can pick and choose when he wants my company.

Last year I went on a few trips by myself. Sometimes I met someone at the other end, but usually not. A healthy ingredient of being a good partner is being really, really good at loving yourself.  A strong submissive/slave/bottom is all about knowing your own value - why would someone want to own you or dominate you or torture you for their pleasure if it wasn't worth something? What are you giving up if it's not worth anything, even to you? 

My "journey" (yeah, I hate that word) these days is all about finding value for myself, outside of my owner. I was asked the other day what I am proud of and I literally couldn't think of anything - I had to ask my owner what he was proud of me for. It's a scary funnel, when everything you are is focused on another, separate person that you don't have access to whenever you want. Finding balance between what I want, what I am proud of, what I love about myself while prioritizing what *he* wants and is proud of is a balancing act I'm still working on. It's especially hard for those of us with survival/trauma histories because the things we may otherwise be proud of us are just shrugged off as "I did what I needed to do, why is that something to be proud of". 

Still working on this. 

the truth pops up everywhere

"Where you lead, I will follow
Anywhere that you tell me to
If you need, you need me to be with you
I will follow where you lead..."

-carole king

i've been reading this book called "deep survival" about the neuroscience of who survives extreme conditions and why. basically, it comes down to the ability to re-do your "mental map" to include the reality of the situation on the fly, rather than trusting your logic and/or emotional ability entirely. it's considerably more complicated than that, but that's one of the basics. not something you learn as much as something you are.

when we were talking about this, he asked me how i handled crises. "i go into some sort of shock," i said. "it's almost as scary to watch myself shut down and function only minimally as it is to go through whatever-it-is that's happening."

i've been in enough survival situations to understand how i work. what's instinctive in me is the ability to quickly (and i mean instantaneously) re-asses a critical situation and immediately aim for the necessary action. i don't dilly-dally, i don't cry a whole lot, and i hear myself speaking as if in a fog.

but i get it done.

the author was talking about survival situations, and risk takers, in the context of mountain climbing. or piloting aircrafts. he was talking about how the memory of the adrenaline rush and expectation of satisfaction and happiness can override one's ability to use reason, thus creating "accidents". in other words, there are no accidents.

when you apply any of that to bdsm, and risk taking either physically (think: breathplay, suspension), or emotionally (consensual nonconsent), and although the time frame may be less-than-instantaneous, it makes perfect sense.

how many risks have i taken? a lot.

trigger

for the first year or so, it never happened. there was somehow a switch inside me that got stuck in the "off" position, and the slapped-on smile stuck to my face like it was cemented there. i could rattle off the details of what happened, and throw in some jokes besides.

almost exactly a year later to the date of it was the first one. i started feeling depressed, although the spring had come and was melting the ice with tiny rivers through it, usually my favorite time of year. i went back to therapy, because i couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom.

the last time before now was a bad one. it almost felt like my self had split into two beings - one, rational and able to speak pretty clearly and articulate what was going on, while the other one wept and shook uncontrollably. both selves took a moment to retch a few times.

it's almost like it's getting worse with each event. i was already overtired, and not feeling well. somehow the ability to remember that everything was actually okay and would not destroy everything i loved faded into the background like fog. i could barely speak, and the images and actual visual memories returned, like a slide show. at the time of the event itself, i cried. i know that much. but any more emotion than that went into lockdown, and i remember thinking that it was all unreal, and was probably a bad dream. i didn't get upset, particularly.

with every episode now, it's like my body rather than my mind is remembering what i should have felt at the time.

it would be easier to say that my extreme need for submission, masochism, and suffering was somehow a way to replay all of it in a more positive, building rather than deteriorating environment.

but it's not. i've always been like this. before, during, and after. those of us that have been through things like this understand in the cells of our body, not our minds, how what we do is simply not abuse.

i gave it away

i gave away my microwave today. tomorrow, all my forks will be gone. i've sent a humidifier on it's way, a table or two, and a lot of sheets. and clothes. some books, but not the ones that are allowed. a few bits of useless jewelry, some candles.

i'm wondering if there's a point when the calmness overcomes the movement. when it becomes like swimming - not blank and motionless, but smooth and quiet and flowing, instead.

my mother asked me if i regretted anything. i know what she meant. instead, i said "i'd have regretted not taking the good mattress. so no."

it's never going to feel like a romance novel. i'm done with that. i think people romanticize power dynamics beyond what it can encompass. what we do isn't easy, or slight, or even usually ideal, but who can claim that their life is easy these days?

what i'm getting rid of is a lifetime of preconceived notions and uncomfortable expectations. as close as i can to coming to you with merely my skin.

and in a way, so are you.

missionaries

what i can't get over is the fact that this feels like the most normal relationship i've ever been in.

that's not to say that the two of us aren't special, unique and talented individuals (although i suppose that's a matter of personal taste, really), but that the basic workings of any relationship, and it's success, are dependent on mutual goals, and a commitment to seeing them through.

for the sake of hilarity, use a missionary christian couple as a comparison. against all odds, cultural, physical, personal, they work together for a common goal. along the way they may experience incredibly joy and elation, and deep, dark moments of grief and hopelessness. there's no specific end to their "journey", it's just a matter of doing what feels right, and truthful, and that there really is no other path that seems justified.

so switch out the proselytizing for violent sex, and i don't see a lot of difference.

over and over again, i keep seeing the similarities between a hardcore bdsm TPE Owner/property relationship and - religion.

(i have nothing to say about the picture other than i laffed. a lot.)

letter

dear self 10 years ago-

you just made a really bad choice. funny, because you'll eventually find out that making choices is sort of a mixed bag for you: necessary at times, but not something you're particularly good at.

that whole "fork in the road" thing? it's not really like that. because everything you're going to do for the next decade is a choice, a decision point, that will lead you to where i'm at now. every single moment you'll do something that will change the course of the future.

some of the stuff is going to go really, super-amazingly badly. on some level, you probably know that already, and while we both wish you'd have recognized that earlier, it's too late. i mean it. it's not going to be good. you're going to lie to yourself, to others, become numb, and have a horrible time of it.

but here's the good news - eventually, all those trials are going to get you to a place where you'll feel clean. healthy, and clean. you will be worse for wear because of all of it, so just recognize that now - maybe coming to terms with it in advance will help.

despite everything, i'm grateful to you. some of the the things that will come in the next few years are joyful beyond comprehension. know also that that's coming too.

love and luck,

a decade

thinking

i've been thinking about this post for days. there's no way i could encompass everything i wanted to say and ignore, and squeeze it into anything readable.

i was driving through the towns i've come to love, the rain spattering in small bursts on the windows, and i kept thinking about how i've come to view new england winters with awe. i never lived here before this time of my life, and while we all hear stories about the majesty and breathtaking beauty of it, and i've watched it and lived it now for a bit, i never stopped to live *in* it, other than the obvious dealing with it. children love snow - they live fully, wholly, in their igloos and snowfights and slippery driveways and every single second of it is important. they don't think about the cost of snowsuits and replaced mittens and ice chippers and snow blowers - they wake up and count the snowflakes stuck to the windows and how long it'll take until they're out in it.

i'm not going to worry about what it will take to make this work. i'm going to enjoy the fact that i'm doing it, instead. what i'm leaving behind was good. it was. and i'm forever grateful to the person i was then for letting me get here, now.

"every time god closes a door, somewhere he opens a window."

-the sound of music

that throwuppy feeling

you know how when big risky decisions get made and you hope and hope and hope you've made the right one and that the path will go forward in the direction towards utopia and beautiful sunsets and very little angst?

that the things that get left behind weren't for the best anyway and the struggles you'll get instead will be infinitely more valuable and love will come in waves upon waves on your head and on the ones around you?

and you can't even risk looking backwards because that makes you even more dizzy?

like that.

a slight modification

seven things i am afraid of:

1. your disappointment.
2. my own temper.
3. getting overweight again, irreparably so.
4. becoming too familiar with you.
5. becoming too distant from you.
6. that the chances we take will hurt everyone we know and love including ourselves.
7. not taking that chance.

i can't say that i am ready and willing and all-hot-fired-up for risk. everything i do these days is risky - there is so much riding on each and every decision that is made. i consult you obsessively, second-guess myself and then reassure myself and then wait for your reassurance to be sure.

i think somewhere along the way you taught me to trust myself as well as you, which is a gift i can never even come close to repaying.

these dreams

we're standing on a shore, a dock, a ferrydock, and it's one of those cool autumn mornings i think where it might be blue and it might be gray but since it's a dream it's all lit by low sunshine anyway. the ferry is coming, and we need to get across to the other side of where we are and the water is glassy and has a light choppy wave to it, but nothing i am scared of.

the ferry hasn't arrived yet.

which is good, because you are going around to the other side in your car. i trust your car, i know it will get us there. it's parked a bit away where i can see the green of it almost meshing with the landscape. i could go with you, in your car.

but i have this big steamer trunk. it needs to go with me, and it cannot go in your car. if i go with you, in your car, a reliable way, the trunk can't come. ever.

i could take the ferry, which in my dream inexplicably will make a stop in the middle of the water, halfway to the other side, and then leave the passengers there in the middle. my trunk can come with me, but there is no guarantee that we will make it to my destination. i, and my trunk, may end up stranded in the middle of the water.

but there's also the chance that the ferry would not stop, and get me there safely, trunk intact.

do i leave the trunk behind and go with you?
do i take the ferry and hope to get to the other side, meet you, and continue on?
will i be left in the middle with only my trunk for company, lost and never getting to where i want to be?

when i woke up at this point, no decision made, it occurred to me that there was no option of me remaining behind, with my trunk, but without you.

his puppet

a huge, huge stroke of luck this week. my impending career change has manifested, and with some trepidation i'm moving forward. it's hugely exciting and scary and i kind of feel like i'm out of my league with this, but it's something i've always wanted to do, so it's the right choice.

"the right choice," i just wrote. and i wonder how much of this is a choice. this whole career-job-changing process exemplifies the discussion i always seem to be having about TPE relationships and the "total" part in particular.

you know those stupid questions about "what if you had to disobey your Master to protect your children,"? no matter how many times you try to explain that you wouldn't ever have to make that choice, the question materializes "hypothetically" about once a month in some format. i'm so sick of that question i could spit.

giving my owner control over my life's work, my career path, income, financial stability - yeah, it's a big one. but like the "Master or kids?" question, it's kind of a moot point, because i can't imagine him making a choice that would be ultimately detrimental to me. in fact, the choices he's made and the pushes he's given and the directions he's pulled me in have only given me the strength to go down a career path i'd never have the guts to do on my own. i'm hellaciously nervous, but he's absolutely right about this: it's something i've always wanted and will ultimately make me a person who lives fulfilled and with joy.

he's also right about something else. he called me his puppet, and i am. can't you see how that's the right word, and how it's not a choice, and how questioning that is just ridiculous?

("puppet master" by Michael Parkes)

the chances we take

how many times, do you think, does someone get another chance before the chances are all gone?

just a thought.

(photo credit: little green man, quilt by vanessa brisson.)

together forever

i live in a town with a lot of colleges nearby. it's almost labor day, and there's a lot of youngsters and their parents milling around, reading maps and checking out cute new england - stuff.

a lot of moms and daughters. one of my favorite things to see is a mom and daughter duo walking down the sidewalk, looking like younger/older replicas of each other. i wonder if they see each other, and see what they'd have looked like in different clothes, in a different era.

i don't get along with my own mother. oh, i do - in a superficial hugs-when-we-meet kind of way. i know this is heartbreaking for her, as she seems to want nothing more than to be able to say "i am close to my daughter." but we're not close.

i've been ruminating on my limits, my reasons. and a recent experience made me recognize that who i am as a woman, the kind of woman i am, has a great deal to do with my mother, but in the opposite way you'd expect.

i will not be afraid. i will not anticipate the wrongness of life, dread oncoming pain and trouble and fear. when bad things happen it is not because i deserve it or because the fates hate me.

the fates are neutral, and blind, and will weave my fate as they see fit. be here now, and bring it on, i say.

(photo credit: gwyneth paltrow and her mother, blythe danner.)

my new theme song

"Got my window open wide
Got my window open wide
Got a good woman by my side
Got a good woman by my side

Now this kind of day
Has no night
This kind of day
Has no night
Ain't got much on my mind
Ain't got much on my mind

'Cause I know
Something good this way comes

Now watching the streets
Filling up
Watching the streets filling up
In the shade of the summer sun
In the shade of the summer sun

Got sweet apple pie on the stove
Got sweet apple pie on the stove
The birds they're all flyin' low
The birds they're all flyin' low

'Cause they know
Something good this way comes

The trouble, doll
Is not moving mountains, but
Digging the ground that you're on
If it's true
That good fortune gives no chase
We got just what it takes

Collar up on my coat
Collar up on my coat
Trucks are pullin'
In for the show
Trucks are pullin'
In for the show

Grasshopper jump in the road
Grasshopper jump in the road
Kids they're all running home
The kids
They're all running home

'Cause they know
Something good this way comes
Yeah
Something good this way comes

The trouble, doll
Is not moving mountains, but
Digging the ground
That you're on
If it's true
That good fortune
Gives no chase
We got just what it takes
Got my window open wide
Got my window open wide
Got a good woman by my side
Got a good woman by my side

'Cause I know
Something good this way comes..."

-jakob dylan

photo credit to "mandy" in picasaweb.

i am. kung fu panda.

as much as i've always hoped i'd come across as something more akin to angelina jolie, i am instead uplifted by and have found my true hero in Po, the Kung Fu Panda. please view a clip below, which is hysterically similar to my own life.

color me humiliated.

i talk a good game. i talk a lot about objectification, humiliation, extreme edge play, the down-n'-dirty stuff. since the age of - what - 8? - i've clung to these fantasies, and they're not leaving any time soon. i clamped them down like bile for many years and it's only recently that i've not only acknowledged the breadth of them, but have walked through my own rings of fire to live them out. i've said it before, and i'll say it again - it's not an easy path, but it's mine.

anyway.

it's one thing to fantasize about things, imagine them happening, the nuances of the voices involved and the imagined positions and results. i'd become used to the habit of getting to sleep by letting my "fingers do the walking", the easiest way to a good night's sleep as far as i was concerned.

but this last thing just takes me down. down. it came at me sideways, unexpectedly, and it seems like such a minor thing compared to so many others i've lived out (through). my owner has taken to reaping (raping) the benefits of my brand-spankin'-new cell phone with digital camera application. all day i've been snapping away at my private parts in embarassing positions. i'm a horrible photographer, and after the first one tried to add some footnotes about how it's a bad picture and i'm sorry for that, the aesthetics suck, but at least there's the humiliation side benefit. he said,

"that's the point, cunt, not the side benefit."

paraphrased

k: he holds your hand?
me: puke. i mean, yeah. he does.
k: do you dislike it because you just dislike it or because you don't trust it?
me: hm. both. i dislike it because i distrust it. it always used to feel like bullshit.
k: yeah, i get that - me too.
me: it scares me.
me: i'm terrified of i don't know what.
k: you know what.
me: what? what am i scared of?


i am a thing on the way

i see you everywhere
your eyes on me
you're a watcher a thinker
i'm a thought
that crossed your
path in hope
a crisscross on my skin
marked that you met me there
once

and to what end?

every once in a while, i get to be someone's sounding board. i've been involved in bdsm most of my adult life, so i've seen quite a bit - a lot of relationships that succeeded, and a lot of them that failed, including a few of my own. a friend was discussing some negotiation points with me, and we came up with a good way to discern what was going on-

is your goal in this relationship *in*dependence, or dependence?

i've come along far enough on my path to see the value of the latter. i didn't always. i don't remember a time before this that i could imagine that a goal of a relationship was dependence on someone else. it goes against the grain of what we're taught to be as children - seeking our strength from within, rather than external. i've been around unhealthy codependent people enough to understand how dependency on another person can go horribly, horribly wrong.

we talk a lot in the bdsm community about how the best of D/s relationships are meant to foster a strength in the submissive/slave (as well as the D/M, but i guess that's implied in the dynamic). during my contracted D/s relationship with D, there was always the background knowledge that at the conclusion of the contract, i was hoping to be stronger, more independent, more self-reliant than when i started.

i wasn't.

in fact, while the goal (maybe not one i mentioned to him, but oh well) was independence, the complete opposite happened: a shocking dependency on his input, decision-making, authority, approval, happiness, or discipline.

and yet, here i am - stronger and happier. and dependent.

what i'm talking about

How about getting off of these antibiotics
How about stopping eating when I'm filled up
How about them transparent dangling carrots
How about that ever elusive kudo

Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence

How about me not blaming you for everything
How about me enjoying the moment for once
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you
How about grieving it all one at a time

Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence

The moment I let go of it was
The moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it was
The moment I touched down

How about no longer being masochistic
How about remembering your divinity
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How about not equating death with stopping

Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence

-alanis

(and no weird comments about the masochism line. you know what she means.)

divorce song

divorce song

in the trunk a split
then lightning hit it with force
already broken


coming up close to the annual mark. i'm preparing my armor this year, i have no intention of being sideswiped by unhappiness. there's no reason for it, anymore, other than as a counterbalance for what i am now.