Thursday, 29 September 2016

Friday Fragments: The Real of the Struggle

Pages and pages and pages and pages here, typed out in varying degrees of staccato.
Most are filled with my real: are filled with what has challenged me, what has ripped me apart, what has brought me down low, what has freed my soul.
Chapter and verse, on the screen, spelling out how this way probably isn't for you, but it sure as hell is for me.
Even if I lie to this screen and proclaim it isn't so, that its not true, even when I have longed to escape my bonds.
Post after post of how I struggle.
How I claw my way to who I am and away from it.
The struggle of putting a voice to my deepest, darkest needs.
The struggles I have had with the one who owns me.
And in that struggle, how I find time after time, that elusive thing that I can't name but know that I am not complete without it.

This is a big space, this virtual writing place.
I could read about flowers.
And the lovey-dovey.
I could read about the perfections.
But guess who I keep turning to read?
You.
I contrast and compare and learn.
I want to soak in your struggle, because maybe I can absorb some of your pain.
I want to watch your brain as you share your words through this screen, pro and con the unfairness of the inequity that are your bonds.
Unique, but similar, oh so similar to my own.
I want to sooth your fears as you walk into those closed doors.
I want to cheer you on as you fling your own heart out.
I want to bandage your head when you hit against the wall...

Because I get you.







Tuesday, 27 September 2016

You Be You

There are a few Blogger friends I dearly miss.

Every time I read a post about "this is how we safely play therefore you should" tori comes to mind. Our dynamics are similar and she is such a gifted and eloquent writer that she could adequately explain her position or belief on a controversial subject without causing a traffic jam of mudslinging.

If you deem something safe, then its safe for you.
Please don't tell me that if I were to act differently in that situation it would be unsafe.

Our dynamic is consensual/non-consent.

He likes me physically in one piece, generally speaking.
Emotionally and mentally, He pushes those boundaries. More than I am comfortable with at times.
My comfort, doesn't matter. Not always a priority.

So if we are in a scene, and I do something that is disrespectful--even if its unintended--He's going to act how He damn well pleases. Even if its something that I have no control over.

The man has razed my ass for being sick, for goddess' sake.

Say, He orders me not to make a move as He beats on the soles of my feet.
And a truck backfires outside and I hear it through the open windows and I jump out of my skin-thereby moving.

Out of my control.
Still disobeyed.

Now Him citing that as disobedience isn't unsafe--its factual...(stretching ..in my opinion).
Him choosing to pick up the rattan cane and striking my palms (fuckin ouch) for it, is still not being unsafe. Its Him being slightly cruel and Him being sadistic but not unsafe.

In reality, He is more likely to stop, just to make sure the stupid truck is done and regroup, for His mental state as much as mine and then take it out on me later, however He chooses.

If He felt like not stopping? Because it didn't interrupt His headspace? Still not unsafe.

If I was truly rattled? And I didn't tell him? Yeah, that might be me thinking I know best---and we could then question my sanity and the sane part of the equation in this instance.
Safe? Well, this man isn't going to harm me. He just isn't. Hurt me, ten thousand ways and then some, leave me mindfucked for days, cause me more broken hearts than I can count, but harm? Nope. Won't happen.

So safe for me and safe for you? Different worlds.








Monday, 26 September 2016

Long Roads

Everyone wants to be the sun
that lights up a life...
But I'd rather be a moon
where I can shine on
during the darkest hour
when the sun isn't around...~N.D.






Trudging along. 
Trying to hold steady.
Doing little more than only what He says.
Giving only what He asks.
And struggling to make my own peace.

Its a weird experiment, to try and carve out space for myself. 
He still is the centre of my universe.
But I am because its keeping me sane.
And I can't focus on the maelstorm or it will pull me in and drag me down.

So I am filling my own well, as fast as I can. 
And I am focusing on my own stuff. 
And I am trying to do that breathing thing. 
Because He needs me to do all of those things.
It doesn't mean I'm okay with any of it---just that I will do it because that's how it is. 

For Him, my lamp is bright. I just have to keep it from cutting so deep there is no repair.



Friday, 23 September 2016

Friday Fragments: Blurry Lines

It's not mine

My mantra this week.

We are in this together, but what happened didn;t happened to me.
Its not mine.
And I can't take it up into me.
My cells were just cleansed.

I can't take it on.
Its not mine.

So hard.
The lines blur, when you are one.
And as ugly as this year has been, that is still inescapable.

Anger. Rage. That feeling of not fair, a ragging injustice, all of those strong emotions....
I'm doing my best to let them pass me on by.

Not mine.
If I dip my toe in, then I loose my objectivity.
I loose my strength.
And he needs me at his back.

He didn;t ask me to fight this battle.
Not mine.
Me, dipping my toe into that emotional soup, would very quickly turn me against him.
Last place I need to me.



I'm focusing on what is mine.
My work.
Trying to do that writing thing.
The feeding and nurturing of those dependent on me.
Trying to keep my head-which is still not in the greatest place--on my shoulders.

Keeping those demons at bay.
Keeping that fear from swallowing me whole.










Its not mine.




Wednesday, 21 September 2016

This Life Thing....

For the past several weeks, we have been like this:



This weekend, it was like this:




And then, because Fate hates us, this happened:


And now, I'm trying to stay sane. And to keep my mouth shut.


I'm trying to remember to do this:



He needs to me to stay out of his way. He needs me to obey.


And I need shoulders to lean on. And I need him to do this:


I will strive to do that thing we do. Keep my own demons caged.



We need an hour or two. He needs to beat me. To show me.
 To reassure me. To claim me. To use me. 


Friday, 16 September 2016

Friday Fragments: Ho-Hum

Its been a normal day for me.
Kept to my routine and went on with life.

But it shouldn't.
There are things to do, like packing.

But I know that if I do that, it will drive my mate around the bend.
So I didn't.
Really wanted to but didn't.
He would just do it all over again--for all of us--- and then I would feel hurt and maybe even resentful that he didn't accept my 'help' or I made an investment in time and its for naught.

So I am left with all the non-fun things that need to be done before we hit the road for a few days.

Took me years to learn this.

Sometimes making his life easier, means keeping out of his way.


Tuesday, 13 September 2016

Scrawling Update

Still sick.

Funny how you can be immensely grateful but filled with dislike.
We haz new technology.
I am immensely grateful for it.
I dislike it intently.

Keep hitting new levels of exhaustion and I so, so want a prize. Seriously.

We are holding steady here.
Better communicating, better giving each other space.
I'm trying very hard not to blab every word that comes into my head at him.
 He's trying to be mindful that I need space and more quiet and more recharging.

He puts my collar on when we go out together.

It helps.

Not everything is fixed but sometimes less is more.

But He has never tried to sell me, like this

That made me howl.

And tingle just a little bit.



Tuesday, 6 September 2016

Walking in Circles

I'm out for a walk.
Feeling frustrated and angry and so so exhausted.

He abrubtly went out after dinner. It appeared he wasn't coming back in just afew minutes after just a few minutes had passed.

The hardest part of the day.
I'm fraying, I feel on my last nerve so I gathered up all matters of importance and went for a stroll.

Muggy night.
My throat is on fire.
I've been sick for a week.
No downtime.
No rest.
 Stuffs to do, people to look after.
I really want a break.

But its such a cruel thought a mantra that surfaces to tease me.
Not happening. Accept it.

He's had a long day too.
I know this.
His day has been pretty rough.
And I know what he isn't saying.

So add to exhausted, sick, frustrated, angry ...add scared.

And I hate feeling that out of control feeling.
As I walk, it occurred to me that the isolation from last year also meant a lost of support.
Support for this kind of relationship.
Even though I have known few who slave like me who M/s like we do ("you guys are so intense so strict" is commentary we got, "you two are so attuned to each other", oh how sweet that memory is) I still had access to people who understood or would at least be supportive in the maintaining and feeding of tthis...and it occurs to me how much I have taken my balls of emotion and thrown it at him, tangled balls that were about him and demand he fix it.

Not fair, I know.
Desperation is a force of its own.

A month ago we had that break through.
But it wasn't cemented.
And this is a record for how ong we have gone without physical intimacy.

I won't initiate.

He snapped the collar on my neck .
Took it off.
I wanted him to do it again but didn't ask. Threw a hissy fit.

Oh I know.
This side of the fence isn't as comfy.

I want him to take control.
Give me direction. Give me a list of things to do that is now considered the new version of service needed. Give me tangible things. Stop feeding the chaos.
Insitute a maintence night, make one new rule...oh my voice our voice in the words we have offered to others in times past.

I'm frustrated, angry, sick, exhausted, sacred and the out of my skin feeling of isolation.

My phone is on the fritz, the hard drive is still not functioning, Mercury Retrograde is kicking my ass.

Trauma is the monster thst mostly stays in the closet but changes everything. My head is still not on the greatest place...I can't process like I used to. And it sucks.

But I went for a walk.