New Year. New Me?

Last year was full of ups, downs & total clusterfucks.

Music has been my constant.  For every mood there’s a song. Even when I can’t put my feels into words, somebody can.

I haven’t been around much this last month or so. After my relationships broke up,  I fell into a deep black hole. 

I crawled into my head & blamed myself. I got drunk, I screamed & I decided to “show him”.

Somewhere in all that I did something good for me.

I know it sounds crazy, but the best thing I did was change my profile on Fetlife & post an ad.

Yes, I’m wading through the requisite assholes & pervy guys. But there ARE some nice ones too.

I’m not giving up just because of one rotten relationship. 

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The hardest thing

Probably the hardest thing to deal with in life is endings.

The ending of a relationship you thought would last forever is probably second only to death.

A relationship that has lasted (in one form or another) for half of your life? 

How do you move on after that? 

You cry, you grieve, you tell yourself that you’re better off. Then something reminds you and you fall apart all over again.

That’s what I’ve been going through since the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  When Daddy decided he didn’t want me after all.

The other person in our triad took every opportunity to twist my words & actions. Turning into Iago and turning me into a villain.  

I’m not trying to paint myself as the innocent victim. But my sins were mostly committed a lifetime ago, by a person I no longer am.

It all goes to prove that you can never right the sins of the past. You can forgive, but some things, you can’t forget.

And the past…will usually bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

The Difference Between Hurt and Harm

I never thought anybody would read what I write, much less take the time to comment.

In the last few days a few comments have made me take an objective look at one particular thing I wrote. 

In Fallen Angel I talked about pain being cathartic for me. 

Certain types of pain really are. I live in pain every day. I have a number of chronic illnesses that include pain. I’ve had arthritis since I was a teenager.

In addition to the physical pain, I have dealt with and lived with Bipolar disorderCluster B and Anxiety for most of my life. When I was younger, I allowed them to control EVERYTHING I did, and I left a LOT of wreckage behind me.

In learning how to deal with the emotional and physical pain in my life, I have used a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms. You name the vice and I’ve used it. 

In my teens it was cutting & eating disorders. Twenties was alcohol & weed. Thirties brought with them opiates. 

When Daddy came back into my life, He brought some things into focus for me.

I was utterly amazed that He was willing to give me another chance after everything I did to Him. But being with Him meant that I had to confront pieces of me that I didn’t want to think about. Pieces I’d been told I should be ashamed of. 

First, I let my Little out of the box I’d kept her locked in.

But Daddy didn’t just want the happy, cute parts of me. It’s all or nothing with Him. He wanted my darkest desires and my most ridiculous wishes.

In figuring out & separating what I WANT from what I NEED, I’ve discovered that pain is one of those essentials for me. It calms the chaos in my head and feeds my demons in ways that nothing else does. 

Chapter 4: Pain? Really? 

Do you have to like pain to be a submissive? Short answer: no. Though many submissives do practice some form of sadomasochistic activity, like everything else, it is negotiable between you and whomever you decide to serve. How can anyone like to experience pain? Some people are just wired differently; for them, pain is directly erotic. Some people have orgasms from being flogged; others are highly aroused by nipple clamps. Keep in mind that pain is very subjective. What feels like pain to you may feel very different to me. It’s also about context. If you’ve ever experienced a hickey before, or found mysterious bruises the day after some strenuous sex, you already know how something that can feel like pain in one setting, can feel like pleasure when it’s part of something else. That’s why we say something “hurts so good.”

“How to Be a Happy & Healthy Submissive” by Kate Kinsey
My brain does not naturally make enough endorphins to boost my mood. Physical pain helps me to bring that level back up.

Because pain is a NEED for me as well as a want, it’s something Daddy is willing to do for me. But it’s also something (whether punishment or pleasure) that I can use my safeword at any time and He will stop.

Control, Illusions & Vices

con·trol

noun
1.the power to influence or direct people’s behavior or the course of events

verb
1.determine the behavior or supervise the running of.

il·lu·sion
noun
1. a thing that is or is likely to be wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses.

2. a deceptive appearance or impression.

3. a false idea or belief.


vice
noun

1.immoral or wicked behavior.

2. an immoral or wicked personal characteristic.


In my life I’ve held tight to all 3. I spent a great deal of time and effort to change myself. My attitudes and my actions. And I did change on the outside. I was quiet, thought before I spoke. Walked away without needing the last word.

But on the inside I was a volcano waiting to erupt. I held myself so tightly that one tiny spark was enough to ignite an inferno.

When I started down this road with Daddy. I was still holding tight to that control. Thinking I could give Him some of me, but still hold back. In the last few days I’ve discovered that we can’t work like that. It’s all or nothing. And where He’s concerned I can NEVER do nothing. So all it is.

All the control I thought I had was just an illusion. I live at the mercy of a body that shuts down on some timetable of its own making. A mind that is (at times) unfamiliar to me.

Nearly dying should have shown me where I stood when it came to my precious control. But it just made me hold tighter to my illusions. The illusion that I was in charge of this crazy thing called life. Which I have realized I most certainly am NOT.

I can’t (for all my perceived power) control the weather, rotation of the earth, or gravity. I can’t control the rising or setting of the sun, or whether Pluto is a planet or not.

The ONLY thing I CAN control is MY behavior. MY thoughts. MY actions. I can’t control how others perceive those things. All I can do is keep myself grounded.

I’m still new to this whole world of TPE. Trust came easy. I’ve trusted Daddy since the moment I met Him.

But giving up the last of my illusory control has been a hard thing. Giving in to what I want. Telling someone else what I need and trusting them not to use it against me…trusting that when I do finally let go, they won’t let me fall.

Fallen Angel

I’ve been a bratty baby girl the last week or so. More Daddy’s little devil than His Angel. 

High on Daddy’s list of rules for me is Respect Daddy. Followed closely by Don’t Talk Back to Daddy. I’ve been having trouble remembering both this week. And my ass paid the price.

But here’s the thing about physical pain for me. It’s cathartic. It’s a release. It has a beginning and an end. An alpha & omega so to speak. Unlike emotional pain. There is no beginning or end to emotional pain. Especially with Anxiety. My brand doesn’t stop me from doing things, but it endlessly replays every time I misunderstood someone, or said something’s stupid or inappropriate. Every time someone looked at me with disappointment. 

It spins around in my head and I picture what I could have done better, or how to not do it the next time. I dream about it, I get lost in figuring out how to be what they want. What they need.

Daddy has been so patient with me. But He’s done being patient. He’s done being understanding when I make the same mistakes over & over again. 

If it’s pain I want, if that’s what it takes for me to remember the rules. Then that’s what He’ll do.

​Do you believe you control your future by your choices or do you believe in fate?

This is one of those strange questions my friends and I used to ponder in the middle of the night after drinking way too much. It went hand-in-hand with this one; “If you could go back in time and change any ONE moment in your life what would it be and why?”

While I don’t believe that EVERY choice is controlled by fate & there’s nothing you can do about it; I do believe that the big things, the life changing things, are destined to happen.

Lessons we need to learn, people we need to know. That love you never forgot.

I couldn’t have lived the life I have without believing that there is some cosmic force out there (call it god/goddess/mother earth/bob) with some sort of master plan for me. Cause I’ve got no freaking clue what I’m doing.

I make choices, and change small things; circumstances/timing/location. But if it’s meant to be, I’m sure not going to stop it by stamping my foot & throwing a fit.

Having this belief has given me comfort that everything would work out how it’s supposed to  (eventually) even when little/middle me wants her “happily ever after” RIGHT DAMN NOW!!! Please and Thank you.

As for changing a moment in my life?

No way in Hell! To change any moment/event/decision would change everything that followed. Every experience, every tear, every slammed door & broken heart made me the woman I am today.