Monday, 18 June 2018

Anxiety Management Monday

A new week.
Again, I wish I found the words or maybe had another blog? I don't know. But so much is going through my head right now.

Today finds me manging my anxiety. All damn day. My throat closing up, heart beating fast, breaking out in sweats.

Because tomorrow, there is an appointment at the GP's for one of the offspring and I'm just all kinds of anxiety over that.

To make it so much better, my GP is off on holiday and there is a fill in that I haven't met, so that has to be fun. I am not against the medical establishment. I think being anti-anything always backfires and is just a huge signal boost to have what you are against (energetically speaking) but I'm not overly comfortable with it. Its pretty anxiety-inducing for me too.
I said that, yes?

Added to this, is those I hang out with that also have barnacles, choose not to to do the routine thing (vague-blogging because I don't want link backs, here).
 We do. Its the one issue we disagree on.
 But its not because I'm anti-it or against-it, its partly because I just don't feel strongly about it one way or the other.
He does. His foot came down on this one hard with no wiggle room and no, "can't we just wait and see", from me room.
I've read the science, and undone the pseudoscience on it at great lengths (because, gods that's a whole lot of fantasy and hype to wade through) and that should reassure me, but it doesn't.
There are also close people in our lives that we couldn't be around if we didn't do this and that's something to weigh, too, obviously.
I just don't feel comfortable with it.
Yeah.

And speaking of clinic settings...
I'm kind of ragey about a new support group that has cropped up for partners.
Awesome, partners need hippie-connection-seeking-barnacle-raising support too.
But...
The meeting takes place at a good old establishment that serves alcohol. At night.
Because of course.

So if I want that support, to get that same kind of support, I have to go to a clinical setting where most of these groups are offered, or go to a completely barnacle friendly place and I have to go in the daylight, with the barnacles. I have more words on this one, I'm sure.

*drinks more coffee*

If you want the kinky, see to the right.






Saturday, 16 June 2018

Summer Solstice.
A whole lot of birthdays.
Some dates, I have firmly down.

But you know, I'm still pretty new at celebrating that one day in June that totally escaped me this year, I seriously thought I had another week and um, that it was like, on Litha.
It can be.
But not all the time.
So yeah.
I suck.
And I have nothing.
No cute shirts to deck the connection-seeking-barnacles in, no mug or tie, which seems to be the acceptable gifts .

Just over here, feeling worn out and wrung out from the week and kind of sad and really sorry that my brain didn't catch on. There really is little space in it these days.

Because I don't have a lot. I'm not easy to live with or to mate with...I'm hard to have as a friend...but in this department, our connection-seeking-barnacles have it all, there is no better.


So...socks?

Saturday, 9 June 2018

At least there is coffee

Bah.
Every once in awhile he leaves me on a Saturday for hours and hours and hours and hours, too.
Its good.
I've become more used to it.
Less snarly about it.
Somewhat supportive, because that's just rote.
Few things change overnight.
And I'm content in my Hovel, loving on my little pack.




Thursday, 7 June 2018

Why I don't TBT


There was that one time, where he made make all of my journals and writings accessible to him. I survived the ordeal but it wasn't the funnest.

Wednesday, 6 June 2018

The words and the bigots

Words matter.
I know. 
I go through phases where I get shy and act like a deer caught in the headlights and this causes me to edit/vanish posts and remove comments. It passes, it always does and I really should just stay off the internet during these phases but while in the throes of this, I long for connection and expression, even though I feel like my words aren't expressing my intentions. I'm reeling from a "friendship break-up" and bouncing back is harder than it was before.

Safe space. 

Its words that I encounter a lot in the various branches of activism.
 In the kink community, "Our munch is a safe place". In the LGBTQ+, "The police want to ensure safe space for all", in the postpartum field, "This is a safe space for all woman".
For me its always been rife with predator language. What it often means is: As long as you think like we do and play by the current rules we are comfortable with, you are safe here. 

In my experience, places that say they are safe, have turned out to be anything but. You also cannot guaranteey everone's safety. If you were to do, that would mean that you know the triggers that everyone walks in the door with, what is safe for one person isn't safe for another. 
You are responsible for you. I may be triggered by something but it doesn't remove the personal responsibility I have to keep myself sane and safe, I am responsible for managing my responses to my triggers.

Thinking about all of this today for various reasons. 

A few weeks back, a local swim coach came to attention because they were overhead spouting off anti-LGBTQ+ to their charges.
The rec centres have called themselves "safe spaces" with a zero tolerance policy. Coach was suspended, pending an investigation.
Outcry has ensued that they are ruining this person's life and dragging them through the mud and it doesn't matter what their personal opinions are, it doesn't affect their ability to coach. 

I don't want my kid to be coached by a bigot. How would I know? Does it matter? How does it matter? What's the impact? All of these thoughts have been running through my mind as I try to drudge up words that fit my world view and express myself in a clear way.

A writer friend asked me to review a piece they are writing on the MZB allegations.
 What do you do in light of that? You can't unbuy the books and you can't unread the things and should you think differently about something because now the author's true colours have been revealed? 
Those books were eye-opening for me on many levels.
No easy answers here.
 This led me to thinking of the pagan authors I have read and learnt from who are now showing themselves to be anti-trans.
Some of that body of work has been influential in my own practise but yet the authors deny the fundamental humanity of women relatives I love. 

Voting day tomorrow in this little corner. For the first time, I have no idea. None. I mean, gods. But still voting matters. Also for the first time, I am considering voting strategic (because archaic system of first past the post) instead of voting how I'm...more likely feeling..whereas before on principal I would always vote for whom I want to vote for, the least of worst-ish or just to you know, vote.

Friday, 1 June 2018

Friday Fragments: Dreaming of flying away

(My 'net access has been spotty for the last two weeks and will be for a bit longer, I'm getting messages but have been slow to respond and haven't been blog hopping much you can always inbox me and I'll reply when i can)


Wow, week.
Recovering from the family things really makes me want a vacay.
I know people do it but the last thing I want to do is get on a plane with my small tribe right now, that just seems like it won't be at all relaxing.
But man, I dream about going on a plane by myself. Iceland is topping the list right now.

 They are all trying to convince me of camping.
Ha.
I don't see how pretending to be homeless is a fun time and may I mention again, how much I detest physical labour? Why would I want to do that under the guise of fun? I think not.
But we argue for the sake of it, really because its not like my vote counts here.
Camping. Eww. Gods.

Happy Birthday to my fellow Geminis!
Its going to be a good month.

Thursday, 31 May 2018

Like being new

He leaves me for hours and hours, one day a week. Hours.
Obviously, I should just be the supportive, understanding and calm partner about this endeavour but I'm not.
Its getting easier to manage as it becomes part of the routine but I'm not over it.
At the root of it is the inherent unfairness that he gets to go off and do something for him, while I'm here not doing stuffs for me and trying to clang together marketable skills because not contributing financially is getting to me, is eating me alive and is my current hill.
^That is my issue and mine only, by the way^.

He showed me something for me, in trying to lend his support to my attempting to clang together and I responded and gave him my thoughts by text. 
He didn't respond.

That annoyed me.
Okay, well he responded wtih, "We'll talk about this later at home."
And that made me super annoyed because I had taken the time to write out thoughts and it felt like he was brushing me off and its all about him all the time and he couldn't spare a few moments to feedback with me, here and now. 

Then it occurred to me this morning, I was reacting in resistance to his dominance, again.
It also occurred to me, that if he's trying to etch things back in that way in more steady a flow, we should have a conversation about it.
And for me, the physicalness of our M/s has been the thing that seals that deal, as it were.
 And I don't know, where does the man expect to find that kind of time? 
He is of the opinion that I should just comply and obey and there is no need to talk about it. 

So there's that. 

It is always about someone being in charge. Either its the Dom or the sub and who is in charge is a debate about the wrong and rightness of D/s.

Does it have to be though? It is possible to have a partnership. It is possible to give over control and partner at the same time. It is possible to be the one in charge and partner in equality. In our current season, we need a partnership, for survival coz let me tell you, I did not sign up for doing this connection-seeking-barnacle-raising alone. Hell no.

We have always taken the stance that he is responsible for his own happiness and I'm responsible for mine. My role of course is to do whatever to support that and whatever he says, goes. But he also supports my efforts--even if it feels like its few and far between and its not always equal in attention or time.
Make that never equal in attention or time but again, not pie and not everything is equal where there is equality.




Monday, 28 May 2018

Not understanding. Life. Again

So often I come here to sprawl the stuff that has gathered in my head that doesn't make sense to me.

Its probably because I don't get it, that I'm seeing these things crop up everywhere--seriously, I walked by a church yard sale and there was a guy taking orders--but I don't get it. A lot of them you'll see stats, like, "Four turtles. Six vacations. Two houses".
Really, that's life? And that's how you want to...I don't know, trophy-it up? You need a touchstone of how many things and how many places you've gone to hang in your living room forever more? I don't get it.
Your expression of living and loving amounts to things gained, pets/offspring looked after and places seen? But you have to tally it up?
I don't get it.
Okay, I said that.
And if you make one for every year, won't that take up a lot of wall space?


(Pinterest images)


No judgement, by the way.
If this is your thing, cool.
I'm not calling you a horrible human for having them on your wall just because the concept eludes me.
You do you and I'll put this in the ever growing category of not understanding life, right up there with leg make-up.



Friday, 18 May 2018

And in time

Hopped a bus last night because it was there.
Its been awhile since I have had my pulse on the lingo so this might not be PC and hell, it might never have been PC but across from the seat I chose?
Two baby dykes. Holding hands, snuggling.
I couldn't help but grinning huge.
There was a time that one look at me and you could conclude things.
You would know that I was a witch, you would know that I was queer, or at least not against any who wave the rainbow.
It made me nostalgic for my charms and pins that I used to wear and that life that was so much a part of me.
Didn't even wear my collar out.
Does it matter?
I did wear a stone, and he did put it there...and yes, of course that matters.
Its ok that I miss who I was, at times.
Its ok, that I miss who I was to him and what we had, at times.
But every once in awhile, it does my soul good to capture reminders of my self at former times.
I went out.
Had chocolate and coffee and laughed with others who are in the same season as I and it was really, really good.
I'm longing for more me-only time and us-only time.
It took as long as it did, but I'm ready for a date night.

Its always a little staggering to go out with a crowd for me.
I have to check myself.
Its unlikely that I will find someone who does all the things like I do and that's ok but it leads to comparatives and that's because insecurities are easy to wear here, over in the trenches.

Are we going to regret not pursuing things,at speed? Or are we going to be happy for the slow Tuesday mornings and the late night spring time lakefront walks?

Here, obviously I can say, time in abundance when our connection-seeking barnacles are this young is awesome, its everything.
And I trust him.
I trust that where we are now is good, its taking time, its a progression but we are going...moving towards things that we want more of.
 But in the company of a group who all do the two hour commute and leave theirs in the hands of someone else daily? It plays on my mind.

I left the Hovel at night and it was really, really good.
And I'm going to find my rainbow pin.


Saturday, 12 May 2018

Tell me....

When can I expect the offspring to take heed of this?



Yeah, me thinks its a fantasy too but don't go bursting my bubble now.


Sunday, 22 April 2018

From the days.

Coffee.
We are cleaning up the Hovel.
I'm washing dishes, putting away stuffs, making breakfast.
He's doing laundry, occupying the offspring.

I'm puttering, needing a clean surface.
I made a total mama proclamation when I said, "we're not going out till this place is cleaned up", and I swear, some part of myself died.

One of my favourite online publications has an open call for submissions.
I think about writing something.
Wondering what I would write.
Dismiss the idea.

Think of it again and still have no idea of what I would write.
Want to find the ten minutes to familiarise myself with the content, know that I need an hour or two.
And that hour or two isn't coming.

But it is coming...the more I turn my attention to it, the more I play with the idea that maybe I could do this writing thing in one form or another, it does surface.



I want to write something.
I don't know what.
Same problem.
Over and over again.


Monday, 16 April 2018

Seriously. April.

I don't consider myself a jealous person.
Jealousy is a learned behaviour, most of the time.
And can also be a reflection of feeling insecure.

But if there is sunshine where you are and buds on trees and growing things, I will cede to a mild envious bent.
An official snow day has been declared, over here.

So...if you have those buds and that sun that I vaguely remember? Enjoy it a little more for me, today. would you?



Friday, 13 April 2018

And still

Nothing.
Nada.
Blank pages.
Nothing is happening.
But I'm still making an attempt.

Trying all the things.

Mildly annoyed that I can't find the time/space..mildly annoyed that support in that vein is often lip service...reminding myself its just the by product of the season.



*weary sigh*

And while I'm asking for impossible things?
Winter, over, would be nice.

Sunday, 1 April 2018

In which Bleue makes an attempt...

I was cleaning up my desk, when I picked up the candle, to dust it off and under it.
It was an intention candle that I made two years ago (think "vision board" but on a candle, if you want the lowdown on this, email me and I'll send you the link--) and its sat on my desk, unlit all the time.
If you are thinking, "Bleue, you don't seem like the vision-board making type", that's a fair and accurate statement.
But it was when I was just getting my head back and I was grasping for anything that would generate creativity and this intention candle making was a useful tool for that end.
On one side of the candle, there were things that related to writing, "you were born to write" and "write the next great chapter" and on the other side, there were things related to health and wellness.
 Right.
Because my focus was that split.
I noticed how split that focus was, when I was cleaning and as I turned the candle over, I laughed out loud, literally.

If you can't see the image, its font that reads, "the best time of day is sunset, when friends drop by for cock."
Yeah, not the intention I was going for there.
And it took me two years to notice--not the first time its been dusted, I assure you.

All of this to say, I want to write.
My space and time commodities are rare and the self-doubt high but I'm going to give it a try, eking out any space I can.

So many thoughts on why I can't do this, or why it isn't right or why putting out, say an erotic short isn't going to accomplish anything...my mind fills in with the things I know...once I used to know formatters and copy editors and was up to date on the Algorithms of Amazon and was well soaked in the erotica and romance genres to know what was selling and how and what to even put out there....

I can use all the cheering on.  And if anyone wants to beta read? Please? Let me know.

In an effort to eek out more space, I'm taking the month of April off of blogging. I have a post scheduled to finish of March questions and a meme might crop up here or a rant but I'm going to be scarce around these parts.







Friday, 30 March 2018

And about that democracy?

This week has sucked.
I've been sickly.
The barnacles have been sickly.
He's been working late.
Really late.
#didn'tgethometill3amlastnight
He gets to go do his thing and I get to not do my thing.
As usual.
And I didn't get a say in staying home so he could go do his thing.
Leaving me to curse fate, chafe at my bonds, dream of being on a plane to Cuba.

Does this sound familiar?
Can we recongize this?

Difference, here?
Resistance.
Its like learning to surrender all over again.
But I don't want to.
And it doesn't matter.

(Laundry, Bleue. He does the laundry and yeah, you want him to be happy, lets remember that)

March Questions: Love on how you love


 Questions from the inbox

"Do you think you could ever be in a poly relationship?"

Nope.

There is a lot I get about poly. The part about if my well is filled than my people's wells are filled too, the part about finding joy when everyone is loving and doing their love thing, I'm there.
As far as relating goes, I'm kind of a one person at a time person. Its a struggle daily for me to emote with all the peoples in my life currently, I can't imagine trying to do that in a more than one kind of sexual relating context.
There's a lot I seek to understand and learn about poly, too.

"Think you will go back to M/s again in the future..? How do you view your M/s?"

Our M/s was how we expressed our love and relationship at that particular time in our history.
There has always been an element of a power exchange in our relationship, even from the earliest days together. We tend to do things in the extreme, so its really no wonder that our M/s was how it was and evolved to where it did.
I don't think we can ever get back to that, its just not where we are. But every once in awhile, I catch a glimpse of how we might roll into the future.
We function as a democracy now, not a dictatorship.
Well....kind of.
He still gets to do whatever he wants.
He tells me what he's doing and I'm expected to roll with it...but more of a democracy than we ever have been.

And I call bullshit on all those who told me not a thing changed when their offspring arrived. Or they had a Mary Poppins in their back pocket or they were the type to leave their small barnacles in trees.

Going back to that whole point of me being a one-person-at-at-a-time-kind-of-person? Yeah, that tenfold. There's no way I can do it with small barnacles. Not at that all consuming intense way.


"What brought you from wanting to walk away from your marriage to staying?
 What's the dynamic status now?"

Walking away from my marriage, was a feeling how I was feeling at the time.
I was really unhappy. Soul-sick.
Trauma fucked with my head, lets not forget that.
So I had to get better and that happened slowly.
Very, very slowly.
He has faith.
Then I had to reclaim all of myself, which meant taking back the autonomy I had given to him.
He had to distinguish that meant I needed to be the agent of all of me and I wasn't rejecting him.
There is no one else, ever, that I want to do this rearing of small barnacles with. Being on the same parenting page helped, a ton.
Started having fun again, because I slowly got my brain back.
I started to communicate differently.
He stated to open up emotionally, in  a different way.
Isn't that why we do all the kinky things? Its supposed to be fun.
Dynamic status? He owns me, that hasn't changed.

Wednesday, 28 March 2018

March Questions: Movies and Memories

Roz asks: "What is your favourite movie? Do you have a favourite childhood memory?"

Ahhh.

Favourite movie is Under the Tuscan Sun.

Oh, my childhood was pleasant but the memories that really stand out are the ones that come from road trips. My parental unit really liked driving and it was nothing to pick up and drive 5, 6 hours. 
Alongside that, any time there was a reason or a chance to stop and we could,we did. Which is why I make us stop at all the interesting signs and places,to this day.
 How else do you know the giant apple actually has fantastic pie, if you just roll on by?

We were crossing the boarder and I had bubble gum, it was a pink and purple package and the centre of this bubble gum was soft and glittery--pink on the outside, purple on the inside. American bubble gum.
Boarder dude asked, "Do you have anything to declare?" 
I remember being scared they would take away my bubble gum but more scared if I didn't speak up and it was found out later.
So from the back seat I yelled out, "I have bubble gum!"
And was promptly shushed by all the adults in the car.

Ahhh, see truth is a fickle thing.

Tuesday, 27 March 2018

March Questions: Living the Fictional Life

Jz asks: You have won a special magical vacation: For one year, you will live the life of any character in fiction that you choose.
Who do you pick?

Now my friend, I know you can read us all under the table.
I also know, that you would never, ever, ever book shame.

With all my spare time this year, I fell into a new to me series and I have enjoyed it immensely.
I pick this character because:

Who doesn't want a twin?
Jumping out of planes always sounds cool.
Going to all the locations in the entire world.
Running an organization is so appealing.
Not to mention, that bank account that makes it all possible...

So I would love to live the life of Jack Morgan.








Friday, 23 March 2018

March Question: Balls in the Air

Lindy asked "What do you enjoy doing to relax?"

This question always makes me laugh.
I want to be all like, "yoga and mediation, of course" but while I do those things, I kind of consider any relaxation that springs from them to be work.
It takes effort to do yoga and effort to mediate.

Truthfully, I walk.
Lots and lots of walking.

If I have a problem I am trying to work out, I move, doing circles around the Hovel.
If I want to chill out after a long day, I will walk around our village. And around our village and on the lakeshore, until finally my mind isn't churning on anything.

Also? I've never told anyone this before...
We were once at a outdoor festival and I became totally memorised by this busker act.
He bought me a tool of the trade for my birthday, shortly thereafter.

Now I totally suck at it but I take it out and try it when no one is looking and I hide it from the offspring.



Wednesday, 21 March 2018

The Spring half-post.

Gods.
How am I supposed to try this writing thing again, when I can't get 10mins to finish a blog post?!

Happy Spring! Water an intention and bury an egg...I would be happier about this but from where I'm standing, it doesn't look like winter is giving it up easily this time around.

Sunday, 18 March 2018

March Questions: Food

Fondles asked: If you had to give up beef or chicken forever which would it be and any particular reason why?

With each pregnancy, I had an aversion to either chicken or beef.
So to give one or the other up forever, wouldn't really be a hardship.

If I had to never eat one again, it would probably be beef, only because I think that having chicken would make my meal planning easier.
 I'll do anything to make my meal planning easier.

I'm not a vegetarian. I gave it a wholly uneducated try eons ago and was incredibly sick from the experiment. However, I do try to have at least two meat free dinners a week, so maybe now that I'm more educated, I could do the vegetarian thing in a healthy way.
But you know, considering I'm foodsource right now, cutting proteins out of my diet, isn't an idea that is appealing and I'm way too lazy right now and tired, to learn how to substitute in a way that would work.


Lindy asked if I have a favourite food.


I enjoy eating things that I won't make, macarons come to mind.
I have a fondness for good street food from Doubles to Korean BBQ, I'm hard pressed to say no to poutine and I really find phyllio wrapped things delicious.

Petra asked if we had ever involved food in our kink?


We had a whole lot of protocols around eating once upon a time, which I talked about missing here, and food made good props for a humiliation play session or two, smiling fondly at those memories.



Thursday, 15 March 2018

But I'm ok.

He brought me coffee.
And a cupcake.
And took the barnacle at 5am.

He's trying to be gentle because he knows I'm having a day.
He's annoyed and trying not to show it.

But I get it.
He doesn't like having to wake up at 5am either.
He has a long day ahead too.
He doesn't always knows what to do when I'm like this and it must seem like nothing is working because I'm flustered and frustrated but trying my best to change the vibe...but I can only do that because it is working.


And I'm ok.

FTN: So ranty

Noise.
So much noise is crowding my head today.

And the long hours stretching out fill me with a certain kind of drudgery.
It comes from really too little sleep and reading the wrong thing just before bed last night.
It comes from the minefield of triggers, caring for small barnacles can be.
But most of all, it comes from the flawed premises that has stabbed my landscape for so long and this is what it shouts:
Ability Equals Worth.

If I asked you for a blanket, would you remind me that it was as bad as I knew it to be? Would you cover me gently and remind me that somehow I survived it?

Because of course, I was supposed to be, but I wasn't.\

I wasn't...nice enough...polite enough...kind enough...quiet enough...able enough...skilled enough...smart enough...friendly enough...outgoing enough...So of course, it was them and not me.

And oh, but they tried.
Just be kind.
And look what happened, when they were?
Do you think I was so grateful for their pretence, like I was supposed to be?
Oh but they wonder why I wasn't.

And now you want in on my circle and wonder why its so hard for you, when nothing in your entire life has been? Here, a tissue soaked in past blood that I shed as I bled, wanting to belong to the likes of you.

But did I really, survive?
I have nothing.
I have done nothing measurable.
Nothing that can be pointed to that clearly states, "See treating me as a human being was worth it--even among a background of torment-- and here is all the worldly worthy things I have gathered to show that I came through it."

Worth is not dependant upon ability.

And the noise: "Don't protest like that, don't be too loud, don't do it that way" and haven't bothered to read the history. But instead, they are pointing to their signs that read, "just be ind" as they indulge in more childisim, that seems never ending one generation to the next.

And the noise wonders why I wrap my barancles close to me, why I will keep them away from the walls.

And my choice, it was taken away. And no, to the noise that says to just get over it.
Wasn't for them to decide if I was ability enough to do it, if I was worthy of the choice.

Fuck that noise.










Monday, 12 March 2018

March Questions: Without Sleep?

Lea asked, "If you didn't have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time?"

Answering this on the Monday following daylight savings time, makes me grin,where almost everybody is complaining about that lost hour.

And you would think,considering the sleep deprived state I'm in these days, I would be too.
But nope, it doesn't affect me much.

One of the things I love about life right now, is we have no schedule.
#tellmeagainwhyschoolisogreat

But the thought of actually not having to sleep? So odd to contemplate.
If I didn't have to sleep? I would probably sleep for the sheer novelty of it.

To answer the question though, I would write.

I can't now but soon, I will be able to take more time and create more space.
Between you and me?
I'm terrified of taking the time away from my family, creating space and then not being able to write anything.

The drought has been long.


Friday, 9 March 2018

Friday Fragments: Oy. Its Friday.

Dear goddess, its been a week.
You know how something is stressful but you don't realize until it is done and over with?
Yeah, its been like that.
There were intrusions to our Hovel this week and it got a bit all over the place but you know, we made it. I didn't realize it was the cause of stress until mid-week. Adjusted course and it got better.
Currently listening to Sheeran on the playlist because I needed a calm kind of vibe.
Debating with myself if its actually calm or just kind of not.
So there's that.

"I'll love you forever if you make me coffee", I said to him this morning.
"Your forevers are mine."
"I'll throw in an extra forever. Please."

He made the coffee.
And did a whole bunch of other stuff to make my life easier.
He does too much.
But I made dinner and the barnacles are thriving.
 Again, not pie.

Questions, questions, questions (thank-you!).
I'll get to them.
 But you can all start a pool on whether its gonna be in March....

Thursday, 1 March 2018

And on outings...

Months back, I got a DM on twitter that read, "Sorry! I think I accidentally outed myself to you."
It made me laugh.
I like twitter for a lot of reasons, information and its quick and -oh there is this thread I stumbled upon recently on writing after a drought and its so good and I can't stop thinking about it- but I don't keep track of followers and I have no idea how someone would accidentally out themselves to me in that setting so I did laugh it off.

But it did keep circling my mind and I thought about it some more.

Of course there are reasons to come out as who you really are but you never have to. 
You never have to give someone your real name or identifying information, unless you want to.

I know that sounds easy. 
But I was in a situation, when we were newish to the kink community, that I did give out more information that I was comfortable with. There were two occasions were someone outed me--without my permission--and I chalked it up to it being ok. It wasn't okay. 

To stay with these non-coherent thoughts just a bit longer: its nature to give. Especially in vulnerable moments, especially when a lot of us were taught that its good to give if someone gives to you.

So if someone closes an email with their real name, or location map or sends pics, it might be nature to do the same. 
And maybe you didn't think it through or maybe, you did think it through, but you didn't give the other person a heads-up, so they might chalk it up to a mistake...if they are the sort to be decent.

Why give the other person a heads-up?
Because they might not want to know.
They might be uncomfortable with crossing the veil, they might wonder if you really meant to use your name, send your pics, identify your location, they might have reasons of their own for maintaining boundaries, for reasons you don't know and they might feel as if they owe you that exchange, when they are uncomfortable with taking it to that level.

Consent, in all its forms. 





Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Questions...questions..questions

He asked me why I have a need for validation of late.
Maybe its because my days are really long and I fling my whole heart out (as if I have one in spades) and hope for the best and I'm doing *all of this* in a way that leaves me feeling more of an outsider than I ever have felt like at times? That, by the by, is saying a lot.
 Because I'm simply feeling a little insecure these days.

I don't know.

But its March.

That means its question month in this corner of Blogland and I'll attempt to play along.
What'cha got?
Inbox, always open: Bleuame6@gmail.com



Monday, 26 February 2018

Status

Standing in a crowded place, with others who have barnacles and all I could think was, "They are all better at adulting than I am."
Or maybe they all just care more about their hair :-P
But I will admit, my insecurities that flared up from the depths a few weeks back are still active and swirling, they are easing slightly though.

Now to find some more caffeine.




Friday, 23 February 2018

Friday Fragments: Made it...

This week has been a fight for my mental health but I made it through more or less in one piece.
My patience might have been a little on the short side and there is nothing done in the Hovel but we are all standing and I am madly in love with my little pack.
 The one task that has remained is making the grocery list.
And I know that sounds ridiculously simple.
But meal planning with healthy eating in mind and a budget that fluctuates week to week, is not an easy feat and I actually make several drafts of the damn list before its ready to go.
I have nothing on the list right now other than "coffee".
Thinking about the vestibular system--seriously, do you know how much is involved in holding a pencil or heh, throwing a bullwhip?! --has kept me fascinated in the moments I can find to read.
When I can, I like to have science on my side for my counter culture ways.
His needs, my needs, probably aren't being met but you know, healthy and content and standing.
We'll take it.

Monday, 19 February 2018

Good mornings

This is my place to write off the cuff and most of the time in has to do with my own inner-demons taking up the real estate of my mind.
But most of my days are harmonious and joyful and slow and lovely.
Exhausting, soul-draining, exhausting, physically numbing and exhausting.
 But lovely.
And its hard for me to believe sometimes.
Hard for me to really accept that these slow mornings, lingering over coffee, pancake making, days are mine. 

The other day, we were all grumpy with each other. All of us lost our tantrums and were at odds with each other and there were disagreements and tears. But we have grown better and quicker at saying, "I'm sorry", and faster at repairing, we don;t let things fester. 

So I'm grateful that this is my current reality and I try to remember to breathe and slow down and not race ahead to the next minute. 
How we got here after all, took a lot of emotional muscle and work. And sometimes it takes twice as much effort daily to maintain.

So worth it.

Tuesday, 13 February 2018

Weary sighs

Gods, I didn't want to do today.
Too little sleep and a too early start.
But there was coffee.
He stayed and made sure I was in as one piece as possible.
He's good like that.


I have more coffee.
And a quiet, rare moment.
I didn't even know what to do with it.
So I cleaned. Obvs.
*weary sigh*

 The thought of maybe scrawling out a writing prompt crossed my mind, but you know.
*weary sigh*

Oh and I'm ignoring the fact that the quick rebound to health means that I'm all sore and achy and like, chair yoga would be too intensive for me at the moment but moving anyways because moving
slowly is still better than no movement and hoping that
this return to health doesn't mean kayaking is off the list.
*weary sigh*








Sunday, 11 February 2018

Grounds...



So for perspective?
Post after post after post about coffee.
But not about PTSD symptoms or wanting to leave my marriage, so there's that.

The coffee situation has been rectified. More posts to come.

Saturday, 10 February 2018

Empty cup

Another morning, another bright and early start.
With no coffee.
Being in a power exchange for me currently, means no coffee.
I couldn't possibly foresee that I had to negotiate coffee (ahem not that there was much negotiation that happened but I dirges).
Coffee is not as important to him as it is to me. .
And because coffee isn't as important to him as it is to me, its not getting attention or priority, its just another thing *grumbles*.
#notaskingfordiamonds



Friday, 9 February 2018

Friday Fragmnets: Its been another *week*










Oy.
Abounding realisations most of which I'm probably going to forget.
Long, long days.
Feeling annoyance at my connection seeking barnacles.
I'm told that happens.
And I need to be told that it happens and its okay that it does, way more often.
*sigh*
Thanks for hanging with me, friends.

Wednesday, 7 February 2018

FFS

(warning: sad pathetic post ahead)
Pperhaps I need a FFF for writing.
As much as I believe in mind over matter and self-acceptance in life, they aren't easy things to maintain. They have be fed over and and over again and cultivated.

My self-belief took quite a severe beating in recent years. Hard to rebound from that.

I'm functioning, I'm productive, I have spurts of creativity but its still a fight to rise back up and stay there but strong conviction is so often mistaken for confidence. Well let me tell you, I have zero confidence.
Its hard for me to get momentum.
And when I do get it, its hard to maintain. 
And when something comes along and crashes it, its like a weight in my mind that can't be shifted or moved away.
Its oppressive. 

Having others in my life believe in my abilities would be helpful but its rare where that happens.
Actually, not once has anyone close to me said that they think I can write or that they like my stuff.

And that's just kinda like everything else I've ever been masochistic to believe I could do and ended up failing at. 

Writing books is the only thing I ever wanted to do.
The fact that I haven't done it is sad. Really sad.

Finally something breaks and I have an idea and characters and then a reminder that I can't do anything with it and then I start to think about how much that actually doesn't/can't work in genre or I can't plot or I tak myself out of it. 

I'm finding life every frustrating at the moment and chafing at my bonds.

It will pass. It does eventually.





Sunday, 4 February 2018

Yep.


So grateful he never decided to wake my ass up earlier than necessary just for the fun of it or just because he could.
He's mean and sadistic, not cruel and harmful. 


Not that there is a sleepbank. 

*snorts*


Friday, 2 February 2018

Friday Fragments: Fit thoughts

Fondles has started Fit for Friday here and its cool if you want that group support and I think its a neat idea.
Totally cool if you don't feel like joining in, group participation isn't my thing but I'm happy to be supportive.

It brought some things to mind.

I gave birth like five minutes ago and I'm perfectly fond of how fit I am at the moment.
My body may never be this gloriously useful ever again and its quite marvellous. 
This means that I get to eat all the carbs and all the chocolate.
And ignore all the adverts for getting back my 'before body' and joining mommy bootcamp.

That before body? Gone.
There is no getting back to it.
How on earth could there be?
And yeah no to the bootcamp.

I'm so grateful that I feel like this and its not a case of history repeating itself.

  I do have my moments of feeling unfit and unhealthy and unworthy.
Self-acceptance is a continuous battle, I wrote a post about that once.
A personal blogging goal?
 To rewrite that post from the perspective and experiences I have had since then.
I have had false starts and ended up sobbing.
 Obviously, I have still have dregs to work through but at the moment?
 I'm so damn content with where I am, physically and mentally.



Be kind to yourselves, friends.
If you eat the forbidden fruit, forgive and move on.
If you skip the exercise that day, forgive and move on.
You are all authentic enough to be writing about living life in alternative relationships or having alternative interests and mindsets, I feel that owning that you actually enjoyed the forbidden fruit and not beating up on yourself when you skip the fitness plan could be done.






















Wednesday, 31 January 2018

One of those days

Today I learned that you can microwave a veggie samosa in a paperbag without anything adverse happening to said samosa found that out while getting coffee.
*sigh*
I have drafts.
 So many drafts.



Sunday, 28 January 2018

Morning

Sleep deprived.
My thoughts whirl into all kinds of plans and things I feel like I can do and want to do then when I fully get up and the noise crashes in, they are forgotten in the land "Nooooot now."
Reminding myself, it doesn't have to all be done right now.
Time now is short and long and that's okay.
 Have I mentioned that I'm madly in love with my little pack?
Now if we could fix the funky coffee maker we have.
 Because I should not have to do this without coffee.

Friday, 26 January 2018

Fridgay Fragments: Not pie

Read something the other day and the piece had the line, "Nothing is wrong, its just hard."
And how accurate that describes the last couple of weeks here.
Though I have always shared the hard stuff, I'm hesitant to do so because it is only a snapshot.

Even when we are at odds with each other, there is still degrees of harmony and laughter and ease and togetherness.
 But I have fears in the back of my mind that surface when I'm stressed and they manifest often in hard lines that I can't immediately bend, my ability to be vulnerable is more guarded than it once was but I'm working on it.
And yes, being supportive isn't conditional and even if I disagree, I still need to get over it, I know.

I'll maybe explain the pie reference another time.






Wednesday, 24 January 2018

Crash

(This is one of those "you might wanna grab coffee and yes, feedback welcome)

I have oh so many drafts of this post because I do not want to come off as criticising him, because that's not what its about.
 I made choices. 
Mostly I'm okay with those choices. Those choices aren't going to change any time soon.
 In the olden days, I would crouch this more as having problems staying in that place of surrender.

Its cause and effect. Its because we have what we had/have with each other.
And its because...

Boundaries take time and practice to put into motion.
He's not good with the emotional support and my world is very small.

Good stretches recently of feeling mentally healthy and as a bonus, creative momentum going strong. 
Here is the crash, welcome: you might recall it from crashes in the past if you've been here long enough.

I had a thing that happened last week.
It could have been prevented.
But it happened. 
I'm all the feelings about it: sad/mad/grief/sad/angry/unhappy/fearful/sad
I have had little time to process this.
 He knows how this is affecting me and hasn't allowed me the space to process it--some of that is just circumstance but some of it boils down to the fact that he doesn't wanna deal with it.
 Its a thing that will take money and time those constants that we are short on. 
But I am hurting, an acknowledgement of that something more than a two second "I'm sorry" would be nice here. 

He took time to go do something that he wanted to do.
I disagree with this one but whatever.
We talked about it and talked about it and talked about it and he concluded that it was off the table there were other things to go and do. 
He still did it. 

I'm not mad that he took time to go do something he wanted to do--he needs to do that for himself, for his sanity, for his health, etc, I want him to do more of those things.

 I'm not mad that after talking it to death, he still went and did it anyways, because that's him. 
He does that. I know this. Ego/pride.
 Ignore the girl with the crystal ball, yet again, she's used to it.
 He's not the thing that is going to or can change here.
(Now is a good time to remind you friends, that he does all the laundry).

I'm mad/upset because after he was done doing it, he expected me to be...happy/pleasant/supportive.
 Yo. So. Not. Happening. 
And he was mad at me for not being that.
I was also upset that he didn't offer me...something? Acknowledgement. Thanks. Space. 
Something.
Once upon a time, I was okay with him taking and not giving because I didn't need to be given anything and you know, slave.

So we fought in the drag out way we used to and it was all kinds of awful.
We patched up.
And then...

He went to do engage with me about something...

I told him please don't do that...
I told him now isn't a good time...
I told him really not now (ironically I told him no to this because I was sorta sure it was going to be a trigger).

And he railroaded right over that and did it anyways and didn't listen and disregarded my boundaries and my words and how I was feeling.
And then was surprised/mad/upset at me when I still wasn't over it the next day. 

To the now...where I feel completely deflated. 
My creative momentum is gone. 
Optimism that things were better, gone coz now I can't see clearly because of these past few days.
I'm reeling from all of this and not sure where to put the pieces. 

Its like every time, I find enough of me to charge into space for myself where I find that creative momentum, he comes along and does this--intentionally or not. 

The questions I am asking myself are: 
How do I keep my space, when I find it, no matter what else is happening?
(Tough one because I have only so many reserves and I have a lot of fixed parts that demand my attention/time/energy).
How do I not look to him to emotional support because its something that he can't give me and stop feeling resentful that he can't give me that? 

Its taking me longer and longer each time, to come back up to where I feel buoyant again. 






Tuesday, 23 January 2018

Just saying...

How many more months of winter?!
And I'm tired.
And grumpy.
And tired.
Mostly tired.

Crashing from creative momentum is a thing.

Friday, 19 January 2018

Friday Fragments: Offer of proof...

Its good to know things.
That's the reason I am signed up for a community health bulletin.
Its useful to know if there is a fire down the street or if there is an outbreak of measles before leaving the house.
 Really, I have no good reason why I am on this list, its just one of those things that happens.
The messages all in the name of health are about as helpful as, "wear sunscreen", and about as inane in tone.
I read them on my phone because that's my third hand. I see photos first, then the text.
This latest message was, "Eating together as a family is important---".

 I won't read the linked scientific article because I feel I can make that mental leap all on my own.

I can even believe that maybe somewhere, there is a kitchen that looks all glossy and clean in the morning, where everyone has a full glass of orange juice in front of their place mat with well balanced perfectly plated plates.
My kitchen looks like a yogurt filled grenade exploded every morning, I have serious kitchen envy here.
The next line naturally is, "No matter what your family looks like."

And this is where they lost me. 
I would be way more inclined to believe that matters to them, if it wasn't a picture of shiny blond blue eyed able bodied white people sitting around that kitchen table, in that perfect kitchen.

 But if I wake up one morning and think one of my family members is ugly, I know now to eat with them no matter what, because its crucial to overall health and well being.

Noted.

*Snorts and drinks coffee in yogurt avocado dishes from yesterdays covered kitchen*.


And this friends, is why I contemplate another blog.




Wednesday, 17 January 2018

Boundaries and Limits

I'm learning there is a definite difference between boundaries and limits.
Previously, I didn't have any boundaries, His limits were my limits--the limit part is more than likely still true. To really test that, we would need a lot more time than the current season gives us but how I feel about it hasn't changed...or its changed back from me wanting zero kink/touch, etc.
But the limits were boundless.

Boundaries are a new area.
I'm learning for my sanity and health, I need boundaries and how to put those in place before it gets to the point of me completely having a meltdown. You know, progress.

Thinking about this more, I realized that's partly why I am so perplexed about that slave I know who voted the way they did because her Dom told her to.
  I never really thought about that situation much and if I did I think I chalked it up there with the other strawman arguments of limb chopping.
And the views blow my mind more on a personal level than wider-political-landscape-level, just so you know.

Like for me, that would probably be a boundary. Maybe I feel stronger or more defined about not putting my kink on the public and the implications. Why a boundary and not a limit? How does that read "boundary?" to me..hmmm searching for words here...Because boundaries are more defined.

Because that crosses the area of where my kink/M/s lies. He can tell me what to do and expect me to do it but not when it comes to living life areas.

Our D/s is about I relate to him, our relationship, not about how I relate to the outside world, or even relate to him when it comes to how I live outside of the Hovel.
He doesn't need to tell me how to think or what and my hackles get raised if there is even a hint of that in the words...trauma affect right there: I'm wildly sensitive about being told what to do and if you think that has to throw a wrench in a power exchange dynamic, you would be correct.

Our division of labour is inherently unequal these days, but there is a division.
He pitches in a lot and patches me up when I need patching sometimes I feel as if that's nightly.

Its like, I'm more than happy to do all the things for you, I'll glaze into the crystal ball but dude, give me a coffee first.
Before?
 Didn't matter if I had the coffee.
Then again...
He knows I work better with coffee now and doesn't push me as much.





Tuesday, 16 January 2018

Another place...

So I am contemplating another blog.
Where I can scrawl more about life (coz my life is oh so fascinating) and attempts at writing and all that. So kinda vanillia? Maybe?

Anyways, ***if*** I do this and you would like the link, email me and let me know.

Just feeling limits here. But I want to keep it that way, here.

Monday, 15 January 2018

Moth like #1

One of the first things I did when I had a moment, was make him lunch.
He was miffed this morning that there was nothing ready.

Fair enough. '
But you know what was surprising?
I actually wanted to be helpful and fix it and make it better.
Explaining the early-morning-making-lunch-for-the-next-day-bit.

Totally slaving it.
*snorts*

Friday, 12 January 2018

In the action

He has taken the moments when I tell him I won't do something as a signal of me being stressed out of my sleep-deprived mind.
Because apparently, it is, like in actuality. 

He knows I'll do it, no matter what I claim in the stressed out moment and of course he's right because there is no way I can *not* do it, how we roll. 

But me telling him I can't/won't is like.....letting off steam? I don't know, I've only just realized that this happens. Its a way for him to come in, to ease the stress? 

I do now this is part of learning how to manage all the stuffs. 
And that last year, he would have taken offence to it/been hurt by me telling him I wasn't going to do something.

Its helpful, to realize this and its helpful in action but it bothers me at the same time.

(and yes I edited for title)

Thursday, 11 January 2018

Right?

This morning over coffee, we were talking and I got to give a viewpoint on the political impact on a current social-economical issue.
He stopped and said, "You are so right, I never thought of it that way."
That made me happy.
He's the one who is good at everything and all smart.
But on occasion, its nice to be smarter.

This brought to mind, the whole, "If your Dom told you to vote a certain way, would you?" from forums past.
Its actually been on my mind because I found out that an acquaintance did vote a certain way because their Dom told them to and their political views kind of blow my mind and shake up the picture I had of them and I still don't know how think about that one---what would you think?

In our dynamic, its just not something he would exert control over.
He's all about control but the sphere he is concerned with is the things that affect us or him.
There was one time, where I couldn't vote in a minor municipal thing because I was all pregnant and in another city and couldn't make it back on time, he wasn't pleased with because he feels I should have voted on the issue.
Who I vote for, or how I vote, not so much.

I'm tired and the days are so long.

But I'm madly in love with my little pack right now and I was all kinds of happy with that little reminder this morning--I have a partnership that allows for disagreement and different viewpoints and allows me to have a voice....all with a dose of M/s and kinkery fuckery when time permits.



Tuesday, 2 January 2018

R for relantionship

Over here, Olivia wrote about an article in the mainstream and how in said article, s-type claimed being Owned was a cure-all for chronic anxiety.

Paraphrasing so badly there but my brain has had no coffee and I haven't showered in forever, so let's just roll with it, shall we?
To be clear, they didn't *actually* say it was a cure-all.

Snorts and smirks aside, I thought about a little bit more.
 Its hard to see the kink stuff through this lens of reality I'm now living.
When I read some loved blogs, in my head, I'm often like, "What?! And she just did it?" and find myself bordering on being all judgy.

In this season, where submission is so far away from me, because the attitude of the here and now is all about survival and sometimes, "I shot out 100lbs out of my vagina. What have you done for me lately, buddy?"  the days when I was criticised for our "extreme M/s lifestyle" feel like they happened to someone else.
Someone who probably showered and had coffee and could leave the house in like, five.

Five....gods...right where was I?

Yet there are still things I defer to him on.
He still has the final-decision making capabilities.
Ask him and he will tell you he still owns me.
Even if we haven't had sex in forever and I'm bitcing to him about not being able to leave the house again with abandon, there are threads of the M/s still there.

When it comes to the offspring, we are on the page as far as general philosophy goes.
But there is an issue we disagree on.
Didn't matter, we did what he wanted to.

That sounds awfully black and white, yes? He said, I did.
And when you get right down it, that's what it was but there was a lot of discussion about it, a lot of tears from me on it.

Because...I was a hot mess over it.
But I couldn't tell you for sure if it was the issue or the circumstances of the issue, because my anxiety, the liar that it is, kept feeding me bigger and bigger suggestions about it that I couldn't see clearly.
He was sure. He saw it more clearly than I did, and because he did, I was able to relax on it and give way.

He has cut through my anxiety in so many different ways.
Sometimes by telling me to just do it and because he Owns me, my loyalty to him wouldn't let me do otherwise, even though I REALLY didn't want to or feel that I could, because anxiety.
Sometimes by holding my hand and letting me sob into his shoulder while I do it anyways, especially if its something I REALLY want to do but didn't feel that I could, because anxiety.
Sometimes by marching into the battle with me and letting me rant and rave and scream about it afterwards.

I wouldn't claim that it was just the kink/BDSM elements that make me go to gatherings or pick up the phone when I don't want to that see me through.

But it is due to his long suffrage of my neurosis, his knowledge of who I am and the intimacy that we have that allows me to get out from under my blanket fort more often than I would if it was up to me.
 That comes from various sources: M/s and how it has the ability to make those undercurrents shine, length of time together, going through all the stuffs together and the trust that is inherent in those messy intimate relationship parts.

Its the relationship.

Always, the relationship.

But that doesn't get represented in BDSM as well as it should.


And how is your day?

My day so far.



What do you figure my chances are for a cup of coffee and a shower?



Remember when I used to write about slaving and kinky stuffs?! 
Its a fuzzy kind of memory.