Tuesday, 31 October 2017

To On the Way to Thrive

I have been sidelined this season.
The season of Harvest festivals and pumpkin-spice everythings.
My favourite season.
I've sat it out, because we are in that stage that doesn't allow you to do much else other than attend to the all-consuming-needs of that.
And its good.

So good.

But it got to me a bit.
There is no pumpkin in the Hovel, no stew simmering on the stove, no bread in the oven-
I can't find the kitchen, we are just out of the living-on-pizza-stage-no candles on the altar.
And it got to me yesterday.

We had an amazing weekend, where we were connected and together.

Then Monday.
Being stuck inside got to me.
My feet aren't ever going to heal, its always going to be like this, I can't figure out the logistics of how to leave the Hovel...the feeling of never ever ever being able to leave the Hovel, and not being able to do all the things, got to me.

So we argued, because we do that.
And we made up, because we do that.

We did one thing for this season and that thing of course was what was important to him.
The things that I wanted? That were important to me? Not a priority.
And that's how it is, but it gets to me. Maybe it shouldn't, maybe it won't in time again, or maybe it always will. It doesn't matter.

How I feel about it, doesn't change it. And as Mouse said here, "Owners don't have to make their property feel better about being property."

This date is about letting go of the old and welcoming the new.
And I feel this past couple of months, we have done that.
We have talked about our O/p dynamic and what it is and what it needs to be to function well and be healthy and thriving, going forward.

There is a forward.
There is a next stage, for us.

Its a strange thing, when you overshare in the (sometimes)-public realm, you open yourself up to opinions and criticism.
So I know there are those who thing that this M/s should be set in stone, that it can never be changed or altered.

But life changes and alters and we have changed and been altered.
That's the reality, I think, of a long-term power exchange, within a long-term relationship. You are living life together and life does that shaking it all up thing. That's my reality, anyways.

You adapt, or you don't survive.
If I had a glass of pumpkin spice mead, I would raise it.
Cheers to survival!

Samhain Blessings to all those who would welcome them!

Thursday, 26 October 2017


He's making me do a Very Stressful Thing today.
I so don't wanna.

In my opinion, there is no reason to do this Very Stressful Thing.
He decided, so we I am.

Also, in my opinion, I don't get why he would choose to make me do this Very Stressful Thing...because he is the one who has to deal with the fallout.

So if it causes me undue anxiety or triggers a stress response, the emotional soup is his to deal with.
Given that, I'm trying to believe that this is very important to him.
That lessons the angst about doing the Very Stressful Thing.

Still don't wannna.

Wednesday, 25 October 2017

Just coffee.

Rolling on.
Days are becoming a little more adjusted.
My ankle is looking more like an ankle and my toes are looking less deformed.

I'm getting a bit-stir-crazy...a lot stir-crazy. I want out of here! Outside!
Yeah, I can only hobble to the kitchen, to the coffee.
And I haven't figured out how to get out of the house yet.
Its easier the second time around but some things have to be relearned.
I forgot how much I like the coffee.

Wishing I was all healed up.
Thinking about sex and kinky things
my twitter feed is inspiring ( ). and sexy kinky things and kinky things that haven't been done in awhile and kinky things that won't be done, ever (needle play...oh but how I wanna).

Drinking the coffee.
Doing the adulting thing.
Doing the functioning thing <---Amazing, yes?

Hope the coffee is good where you are, my friends.

Saturday, 21 October 2017

These 30 Days...and more

Oh sweet Goddess, they have been hard.
So hard.
Truly, truly hard.

But they have been everything.
So everything.
Absolutely, truly everything.

We can do hard things.
Its what happens when you choose the path less trodden
And sometimes I feel pained, knowing you wouldn't be on this path
...if I wasn't the crazy girl who came along and shook up all your perfectly lined up boxes
But then I remember, you chose me, knowing full well my relantionship with chaos,
knowing I couldn't help but shake up those boxes.

In these 30 days, we have loved.
We have breathed.
We have healed.
We have joined.

Thank-you for creating space and breath for me to heal and for us to be.

Each day, of these 30 days, you have made me feel cherished.

Thursday, 19 October 2017


After the meme post, a note from Elle asked me if there were any piercings/tattoos I would want but don't have?

And yes there are, see this old post, too.

I have always loved the look of an eyebrow piercing. He doesn't, so I can't have one. 

And thinking about this post, it made me realize how much there still is of the old us even in the new us.
Because even though I have autonomy over my body again, (had to take it back to heal)--though he says my body is just loaned back to me, its not permanent--I didn't run out and get an eyebrow piercing. He probably would have been okay with it, in light of the fact that the last year has been met with the attitude of "Let's do anything and everything we can not to have the experience we did last time", but I'm not sure if an eyebrow piercing would have done anything to heal me, or if I could have made an argument for it being healing.

 So he probably would have been hurt if I had gone and done it.
Counter-intuitive to what we are going for. 

Tattoos aren't appealing to me. I love the art, love the look of them on others, love hearing the stories behind me but, I'm not sure I could deal with something so permanent on me. However....

I would actually like a tattoo that says, "Owned."

When its all said and done, I identify as being property, as being owned. 
I can be bratty.
I can be incorrigible.
I can be one hot traumatized mess.
I can be all serving-him-with-a-smile
I can be all-here's-your-dinner-fuck-you
I can be all out of my mind and out of control and having a week from hell and a day from chaos and I can be all soft and vulnerable and wanting him to take me and show me...
 I'm still his

And even in these new days, where everything is new and we are finding us again, I can see how we are coming back here and there and into something new but still most definitely O/p. 

I want him to claim me again as property. 
There are moments. 
Me playfully talking back to him, him wrapping my hair around his fist and pressing my face into his thigh....moments we find. 

So yes, a permanent mark that etches that on my skin, holds great appeal. 


He won't let me. 
Because there would be something he would find wrong with it and to have that permanently etched on my skin, would annoy him to no end. 

So unless, he learns how to ink skin himself, me getting this permanent mark will never happen.

Then again, I wouldn't close the door on that possibility.  

Friday, 13 October 2017

Then and Now

I'm so exhausted
He's talking to me.
About something he's read.
About something that happened at work.
About the weekend.
About what we have to do next month.
He's talking to me, about many things.

And its quiet and its dark.
And I'm exhausted.
He's looking at me, with this expression on his face-as if he's seeing me for the first time.
 It kind of makes me feel weird and soaring all at the time.

"Stop talking to me. You're talking to me as if I'm a normal functioning person."
"But you are! You so are", he says it with complete glee. As if something really astounding has occurred. "You are functioning".
He's grinning at me and it makes me growl.

I'm exhausted.
I have cried so many times this week, over the littlest things.
I have begged him--damn well pleaded with him, to please, please, please don't make me do it all over again tomorrow.
I've told him that this is hell, that I would rather be back in highschool.
He's pushed me this week.
He knows it.
And just because I'm strong af, it doesn't mean that I wanna.
I have no limits.
He's been making me want a big old red button.
My stupid ankle is taking forever to heal--even though I am throwing all the arnica-comfrey-advil-things at it and I'm pretty sure I have a broken toe.

But I showered.
I washed my hair.
I used some gods-awful-lush-shower-gel.
I washed my body.
I thought about the weekend plans and plans for the business, and I thought about hockey and I thought about calling my brother, and I thought about getting together with a friend, and I thought that I should really clean my bathroom tiles and I thought about an article I had read.

I showered.

Three years ago, I couldn't.
three years ago, I would run the water as hot as I could take it and stand under it, letting it run over my hair and neck. The only places that the water didn't hurt when touched and get out as quickly as I could.
 Getting ready for bed one night after my hot-water-hair-rinse, he handed me a shirt, put a hand on my shoulder, looked down.
"Sweetheart, there is still blood and it looks pretty bad...you haven't washed, have you?"
And I collapsed in his arms, in tears.
He brought me to the bed, laid me down and with a warm washcloth and cloth of gauze, cleaned all my bloody dirty parts as the tears seeped out of me, soaking the pillows, soaking my neck.
And after he had finished? I jumped up off the bed and screamed at him, in a fit of rage.
 We didn't know then, that rage was one of those tell-tale symptoms.

So I showered.
And my heart wasn't beating out of my chest.
I didn't feel red-hot-rage take over me.
My mind was not stuck replaying the same loop over and over and over again.

I had this notion, you see. That if I had the EXPERIENCE, it would---I don't know.
That the pain wouldn't be there? That it would negate the first experience?--I don't know.
That all the symptoms would be no more? I don't know.

I do know, that healing takes its own time.
And it can hurt. The brighter it burns.
And the then and the now can meet and mingle and while I feel overwhelming love and joy and gratitude for the now, I can still grieve the then. That the two are both my experiences and its going to take time for them to be woven into a narrative that is seamless.

Its not a bad start, on the whole, though.

Thursday, 12 October 2017

Meme Time, Meme Place

Meme Time, Meme Place
Stole from JZ

Marriages – 1
Proposals – 1
Divorces – 0
Surgeries – 2
Tattoos – 0 but..maybe
Piercings – 1

Shot a gun – I'm an urban-living-liberal-Canadian-with-socialist-leanings...I don't even have context to answer this question with.
Like, what?

Quit a job – Ha.

Been on TV – It was an unfortunate experience I try not to think about.

Fallen in love – For my sins.

Driven cross country – Sort of. East to West. And my role was passenger.

Hit a deer – Uh, no.

Watched a birth – Yes! Of course! Daily for about eight months.

Ridden in an ambulance – Yeah.

Sung karaoke – Nope. I've bought many a drink to get out of it.

Ice skated – Ah, no. But my Owner seems intent on risking my bodily health and overtaxing my misfiring neurons by thinking I *should* try it, sometime, every winter the subject comes up.

Been surfing – Nah.

Seen the ocean – Yes. And I don't understand why this isn't a daily occurrence.

Ridden a horse - Every chance I get. Need more chances. Missing those chances, hard.

Almost died – Yeah.

Been punched – Actually, no.

Punched back – Oh but I bite.

Are you:

In love now –
We are pretty doped up on those love hormones around here right now.

(oh, we’re done…)

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

The crasher...

Over time, both of us have become better at spotting my emotional triggers. Because I live by emotions, I'm better at recognising when a trigger has been stepped on.

The physical, doesn't occur to me until after.

In this case, after two days of being stressed and having symptoms.
Two days of not being able to find mental relief.
Two days of me saying to those around me, "I'm stressed." (in other words, do something here, I'm floundering)

And then it dawned on me...

Since having BB, how my body responds to and handles physical pain is different. I am still holding out the hope that its not a forever thing, because I am still a masochist who would like to be a pain slut again some day, but time hasn't fixed this.

My threshold for pain is stupidly low.

Couple of weeks ago, I sprained my ankle. It wasn't ideal and it was horrible timing-really horrible timing--but I was handling it okay, all things considered.

But then I fell.
The healing ankle became bruised and the toes on my other foot jammed and bruised and that made me fall apart in a slow but not so noticeable way.
Because I was then in a situation where I couldn't move very much and my mobility was nil.

...lost count of the triggers there, but more than plenty to set off the stress responses.

Add in the fact that I was feeling all alone and abandoned and I'm miffed that he's leaving us--can't be helped but still--it was the perfect storm.

(He has been absolutely stellar-for the record- in helping me recover from the latest marathon but you know, that leaves brain in the midst of the stress responses).

This has totally crashed our party.

And caused one hell of an emotional hangover. Enter now, archived post that some of you spotted, yesterday.


Better, now.
Drinking coffee now,
Doing this adult thing now,

Monday, 9 October 2017

Saturday, 7 October 2017

The soundtrack is gratitude

At night, when I need to be up and fill the long stretches, I've been playing things that make me laugh. I've been listening to music that makes me smile.

This time, is not like last time, but I'm aware that when the sun goes down, so often does the mood and I've been trying to fill-up on the happy to keep the swings at bay.

If I were to ask my dear Owner, what he would play to lift up his mood, he would rattle off ten, maybe twenty artists/bands/songs he would choose, just like that . I don't have the same acumen when it comes to music, so its actually a bit of a struggle to choose something to play as my backdrop for these long, lonely but oh so precious nights.

Its surprising to me though, that when I have chosen a song, it has to do with memories...often commiserating  a moment that is important to me, a song that marked an occasion that found its way into my memory banks. The soundtracks form and play, it seems, even if I wasn't aware of it before now, in this particular way.

This one...I've always been aware of because the memory that accompanies it, started everything.
This song was playing in a bar one evening, when we were on a date, so long ago now.
When he said the words.
And it was perfect.

So tell me friends, what do you chose to put on when you are having a bad day? What makes you happy to hear it play? I'm open to suggestions.

This weekend is our Thanksgiving holiday.
Our celebration is low key this year.
We are having pumpkin pie for breakfast.
It took four hours yesterday to get the pie from the bakery--but that's life right now.
 Sense of humour, oh so vital.
And I am so grateful that it is life right now.

Friday, 6 October 2017

When its like this

We have been all tucked in and cozy these past couple of weeks.
Completely and utterly doped up on love hormones.

And its been good.