So I went out for groceries and toilet paper last week y'all...And fuck my life.
I went to eight stores. Eight. Two of them twice. On my second trip to the aforementioned two, I happened to arrive 15 minutes after the delivery truck. So I scored a $20 dollar pack of 12 rolls of toilet paper, and three whole bottles of hand sanitizer! By the time I made it the forty second walk to the store with hand sanitizer, the place I got toilet paper at was already out. By the time I got to the cashier at hand sanitizer store, the woman at the end of the line said hand sanitizer was gone.
In other news, I was fortunate enough to find eggs at the fourth store.
Ya'll...It's the self-perpetuating goddamn apocalypse out here. I haven't seen a bag of rice in two weeks.
This week I saw somebody loading up toilet paper and ran into the store. Grabbed a pack. My coworker and her family were down to 3 rolls and hadn't seen any on the shelves anywhere for nearly two weeks. Gave her the pack of toilet paper. It worked out. And it irritated me. It irritated me that things are so ridiculous out here that I, (who would normally rather lose a small body part than be late to work) felt the need to run into a grocery store 7 minutes before the start of my shift, to buy a product I didn't need, because someone I knew needed it and couldn't get it because the masses have devolved into a selfish hoard.
Phew, ok, that was a run on sentence even for my mouth.
I am fortunate enough to still be employed. For now. And...Not gonna lie, I'd really love to come home and stay there for three weeks, only leaving for walks in the woods or to pick up kiddo. I mean c'mon, I was MADE for social distancing! Talk about living the dream...I'm not staying home though. I'm going to work while I can, because I don't have anything to fall back on once I'm sent home, besides a bit of pto. Not enough pto.
It's weird because I have enough of a medical background to know that the bandana and various face coverings myself and my coworkers re-use, the gloves that we do the same with, and our massive step-up in sanitation measures, are truly inadequate. But I'm still out there. Like so many others. We don't want to be, and in an overall sense of practicality, we shouldn't be. But, ya'know, survival in all its forms and all.
Moving on...
Who are you guys reading these days? So many of the blogs I loved have faded away or have simply been taken over by other domains.
Who are you reading that this dusty sub might enjoy in the event that she is lucky/unfortunate enough to be sent home?
Showing posts with label My story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My story. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Saturday, March 7, 2020
Ten
So this blog will be ten years old tomorrow...One whole fucking decade.
A lot happens over the course of ten years. Hell, a lot happens over the course of one. I took a long hiatus from this place. And coming back...Well, it's stirred up a lot in my head. And it's been kinda lovely cuz, some of you are still here and that warms my heart to no end.
A decade of my story is here. Not all of it, and certainly very little of the last few years. But it is still my story, my history, my life.
I have been talking to one of my aunts. I never had any close family, but still, she's my family. And she remembers family history that no other living person knows. My youngest has expressed an interest in learning his family history, so I started talking to her about it and really acknowledging some interesting things about history and being alive.
Stories die when no one remembers them. Some day, everything we know and experienced will vanish unless someone else learns our story. Histories, lifetimes, people, their stories, the events during their lifetimes, these things only truly die when no one knows them and can pass them on, and no one listens or recalls the tales of those who do.
And these individual moments of failure, success, pain, joy, love, hate...All these little individual moments put together as a whole make up the world as we know and experience it.
We are all merely a drop in the ocean, but without all those little drops, there is no ocean.
This blog is ten years old. I turned 37 last week. Time flies, but it doesn't have to pass us by. We add to our story and those of people we interact with each and every day. Life is beautiful. It's fucking painful, and ugly, and glorious, and amazing. Our story is what we make it, how we choose to allow others to shape it, the memories and moments we share with others.
In the end, perhaps it matters not how long we are alive, but that we truly live in the time we are given. And if we are really lucky, we will touch even just one person enough for them to listen to our story. And remember.
Given the theme this post kind of took on its own, I would just like to mention Cat, of Be pleasing always. Her dom, HerLiege, recently posted that most of her blog was going to be deleted by tumbler.That brings me great sadness. Because, while Cat had already passed away when I found her blog years ago, her story meant something to me, it impacted my ideals and views, helped to shape so many of my ideas of submission. I can still call up that feeling in my heart that reading her words inspired, and the introspection and growth it evoked. Her story and who she was will always be beautiful to me. And because she shared her story, I will remember her. Always.
A lot happens over the course of ten years. Hell, a lot happens over the course of one. I took a long hiatus from this place. And coming back...Well, it's stirred up a lot in my head. And it's been kinda lovely cuz, some of you are still here and that warms my heart to no end.
A decade of my story is here. Not all of it, and certainly very little of the last few years. But it is still my story, my history, my life.
I have been talking to one of my aunts. I never had any close family, but still, she's my family. And she remembers family history that no other living person knows. My youngest has expressed an interest in learning his family history, so I started talking to her about it and really acknowledging some interesting things about history and being alive.
Stories die when no one remembers them. Some day, everything we know and experienced will vanish unless someone else learns our story. Histories, lifetimes, people, their stories, the events during their lifetimes, these things only truly die when no one knows them and can pass them on, and no one listens or recalls the tales of those who do.
And these individual moments of failure, success, pain, joy, love, hate...All these little individual moments put together as a whole make up the world as we know and experience it.
We are all merely a drop in the ocean, but without all those little drops, there is no ocean.
This blog is ten years old. I turned 37 last week. Time flies, but it doesn't have to pass us by. We add to our story and those of people we interact with each and every day. Life is beautiful. It's fucking painful, and ugly, and glorious, and amazing. Our story is what we make it, how we choose to allow others to shape it, the memories and moments we share with others.
In the end, perhaps it matters not how long we are alive, but that we truly live in the time we are given. And if we are really lucky, we will touch even just one person enough for them to listen to our story. And remember.
Given the theme this post kind of took on its own, I would just like to mention Cat, of Be pleasing always. Her dom, HerLiege, recently posted that most of her blog was going to be deleted by tumbler.That brings me great sadness. Because, while Cat had already passed away when I found her blog years ago, her story meant something to me, it impacted my ideals and views, helped to shape so many of my ideas of submission. I can still call up that feeling in my heart that reading her words inspired, and the introspection and growth it evoked. Her story and who she was will always be beautiful to me. And because she shared her story, I will remember her. Always.
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
Belonging
One of the things I loved about Blogland was the feeling of belonging it gave me. Coming back after having built this blog, and my entire life really, around Alpha, I feel a bit like I don't belong. This blog was very much OUR story. And now...Now it's mine. And in a place that is so much based upon belonging TO someone...It feels a bit odd. But I am who I am. And it is what it is.
I watched a movie the other day, and the main character was having a conversation in which she said, "I'm much more stable when I write, I haven't written much lately." and the other character replies with, "How are you doing with that?" to which she responds with, "Not well, not well at all."
That resonated deeply with me. B has asked me to write on more than one occasion in the last couple years, because she knows it's good for me, knows I need it. But so often...So often, the words haven't been there. too much pain, too much bitterness, too much confusion, too little drive to stare at the blinking cursor and make it move. And above all perhaps, when it comes to here, too much fear that he would read it and lash out.
I don't know where I belong. But I do know that I am still me. I still need this thing we call D/s, I still need the physical pain he trained out of me in favor of control over all those years. I still crave control, yet have developed a deep and abiding angst around any efforts to do so. I know that I'm a monster, and I'm working with that lol.
I have learned how to take care of myself because it was that or die. And for a while, not gonna lie, I just wanted to die. I got these kids though...so I didn't.
I took care of him and the kids for years with these:
It's a rough life, and not ideal for a mother; living in the hills away from your children, only seeing them when you come home to dump piles of money on the table, and hear a week later that the rent it was intended to pay was already spent. But I was good at it. And I built a reputation on my hands and my name. My hands were good and I made my name gold. Because I could be trusted and I always landed top chair. And I belonged. With the crazies, the misfits, the storms, the underground castoffs...
Then...I couldn't do it any more. Too unstable, too dangerous, too tired of living in a tent, too tired of not seeing my kids, too tired of all the bullshit, the backstabbing, being taken advantage of, the cold and the rain. Too fucking old to be living on the hill telling people to get their fucking drugs off my table and working 18 hours a day. Too damn good at what I did to accept the wages they began offering.
So I learned something new. It's hard to start over and suck at something new. But I have learned that it is also brave, and can be well worth it. so I traded in those scissors for these:
I can't threaten to stab the people who piss me off anymore, but I do provide health insurance for my kids, I sleep inside in the same bed every night, I can support myself in a very stable manner, and I work with one crew who has my back, not because they need me, but because I have shown them who I am and we have each others backs. And I still kinda suck at it, but I do belong.
It has been a lifelong fault of mine, this desire to belong. And I have fought against it so much...But I have learned that a refusal to base my life on that desire always lands me in the places where I truly do belong.
I do belong to someone...This girl. This girl he wanted me to want because he wanted her. This girl he left me for who would have left him in a heartbeat if I had asked her to, this girl who loves me like he once did...This girl who broke my heart and put me back together when he told me over and over to just die. In a way, she's getting shorted. But she has my back.
The sub in me can't give her what she knows me to be at my core right now. What she really needs in a relationship. Yet...In a way she's also getting the best of me, because I hold my shit down. I pay the bills, and I work my ass off.
I guess...I guess I belong wherever I choose to be. And maybe that's just one of the things we learn about life along the way, that we belong where we choose. I choose to be here again. And so, as odd and strange as it is, as much as it may challenge all that I believed and pick at not-so-old wounds, I still belong here. Because I am what I am. And I built this space, and I still hold to many of the core beliefs I have expressed here.
I watched a movie the other day, and the main character was having a conversation in which she said, "I'm much more stable when I write, I haven't written much lately." and the other character replies with, "How are you doing with that?" to which she responds with, "Not well, not well at all."
That resonated deeply with me. B has asked me to write on more than one occasion in the last couple years, because she knows it's good for me, knows I need it. But so often...So often, the words haven't been there. too much pain, too much bitterness, too much confusion, too little drive to stare at the blinking cursor and make it move. And above all perhaps, when it comes to here, too much fear that he would read it and lash out.
I don't know where I belong. But I do know that I am still me. I still need this thing we call D/s, I still need the physical pain he trained out of me in favor of control over all those years. I still crave control, yet have developed a deep and abiding angst around any efforts to do so. I know that I'm a monster, and I'm working with that lol.
I have learned how to take care of myself because it was that or die. And for a while, not gonna lie, I just wanted to die. I got these kids though...so I didn't.
I took care of him and the kids for years with these:
It's a rough life, and not ideal for a mother; living in the hills away from your children, only seeing them when you come home to dump piles of money on the table, and hear a week later that the rent it was intended to pay was already spent. But I was good at it. And I built a reputation on my hands and my name. My hands were good and I made my name gold. Because I could be trusted and I always landed top chair. And I belonged. With the crazies, the misfits, the storms, the underground castoffs...
Then...I couldn't do it any more. Too unstable, too dangerous, too tired of living in a tent, too tired of not seeing my kids, too tired of all the bullshit, the backstabbing, being taken advantage of, the cold and the rain. Too fucking old to be living on the hill telling people to get their fucking drugs off my table and working 18 hours a day. Too damn good at what I did to accept the wages they began offering.
So I learned something new. It's hard to start over and suck at something new. But I have learned that it is also brave, and can be well worth it. so I traded in those scissors for these:
I can't threaten to stab the people who piss me off anymore, but I do provide health insurance for my kids, I sleep inside in the same bed every night, I can support myself in a very stable manner, and I work with one crew who has my back, not because they need me, but because I have shown them who I am and we have each others backs. And I still kinda suck at it, but I do belong.
It has been a lifelong fault of mine, this desire to belong. And I have fought against it so much...But I have learned that a refusal to base my life on that desire always lands me in the places where I truly do belong.
I do belong to someone...This girl. This girl he wanted me to want because he wanted her. This girl he left me for who would have left him in a heartbeat if I had asked her to, this girl who loves me like he once did...This girl who broke my heart and put me back together when he told me over and over to just die. In a way, she's getting shorted. But she has my back.
The sub in me can't give her what she knows me to be at my core right now. What she really needs in a relationship. Yet...In a way she's also getting the best of me, because I hold my shit down. I pay the bills, and I work my ass off.
I guess...I guess I belong wherever I choose to be. And maybe that's just one of the things we learn about life along the way, that we belong where we choose. I choose to be here again. And so, as odd and strange as it is, as much as it may challenge all that I believed and pick at not-so-old wounds, I still belong here. Because I am what I am. And I built this space, and I still hold to many of the core beliefs I have expressed here.
Tuesday, March 3, 2020
Storm
So I changed my name here..I called myself lil, because he called me littleone. And I am no longer his littleone. Indeed, rarely can I bring myself to indulge in the much needed luxury of being little...But that is beside the point. I can no longer be lil.
So...
I became storm. Because because I am the storm. And the storm survives.
Life is amazing, and painful, and beautiful and awing, and shocking, and it will beat you down and eat you up...
Yet...Without the storm there is no harvest.
The quote that's been sitting unattended on the side of this blog for years now? I tattooed it on my wrists. And I find it no less true today than when I posted it here. One must sow to reap, and one must, in some way, labor for the reward.
The storm...The storm makes us what we are. Plants that do not weather the wind and rain and harsh conditions are weak. They cannot survive...
So...
I became storm. Because because I am the storm. And the storm survives.
Life is amazing, and painful, and beautiful and awing, and shocking, and it will beat you down and eat you up...
Yet...Without the storm there is no harvest.
The quote that's been sitting unattended on the side of this blog for years now? I tattooed it on my wrists. And I find it no less true today than when I posted it here. One must sow to reap, and one must, in some way, labor for the reward.
The storm...The storm makes us what we are. Plants that do not weather the wind and rain and harsh conditions are weak. They cannot survive...
Friday, February 28, 2020
It's Been A Long Fucking While...
So...It's been a while since I posted here. Took me a hot minute to login...Then the first thing I did was read his last post here...And I seriously considered deleting it. Cuz...Everything he hates me for, I did because he told me to, because what he said was such a public and erroneous low blow that it was difficult to start back here with reading that of all things...But I decided to leave it. At least for now. This blog has been meandering, but if nothing else, I have striven to make it an honest reflection of my life. And all things considered, those are some of the nicer things he has said to me over the last few years...
So...I dunno if anyone who used to read here is still around, but I think maybe I'm back. It's hard to come back here, with everything I built this blog on and believed in my core and lived...And now him and I barely speak.
And the part of me I struggled so hard to build this blog on...I don't know how to be her anymore. Because before my true end with him, I never loved anyone he told me not to, I never pursued anything he didn't tell me to, and I never in a million years imagined that someone I had turned myself so completely over to could endeavor so much to destroy me, to destroy my mother, would threaten my life and the lives of everyone i loved...
This blog was a reflection of my life for a very long time; however, I have learned that a reflection of ones life is not always a complete reflection of themselves, but more a reflection of who they are on their path at the time.
I am nothing if not a survivor. And I am still here. I am still me. Perhaps a different version with many core things which will never change.
This blog is nearing a birthday shortly after mine. I haven't checked, but tentatively, I'ma say its gonna be 12 years old. It's my story. And a story does not end when it takes twists and turns. When we lose everything we ever knew and became things we never knew we could to survive. It doesn't end when we tuck away parts of ourselves to survive and vanish into the mists for a bit. A story only ends when there is no one left to tell it, and not one left to hear it.
I remade myself. And yea, I'm still a bit of a fucking mess, and there's aspects of me that I want to unlock and explore more again, I just dunno quite how to yet.
I'll always be who I am at my core. And maybe I'll never understand how he so completely abandoned me and told me to go with others, while hating me for following that instruction, how he of all people could rain what he has on me and no longer care, how some random little girl could mean so much more than me. But it is what it is. And yea, I still care, because...If I didn't, wouldn't that be an egregious insult to all that we were? One day I'll be ok with him choosing a girl he knew for a week over me. One day I'll forgive myself for the fucked up shit I did and its impact on my kids.
Today is perhaps not that day. But that's ok. Because I survived. My kids are ok. And I have a girl that maybe hates me sometimes, but she truly loves me, and she truly loves my boys. And God knows, I do love her.
I'm trying to learn how to give and surrender in the ways that I loved so much with this new knowledge I have...That the person you submit your being to may someday despise you to the core of your being. And I don't yet know how. But I do know how to survive. And I'm still here.
So...I dunno if anyone who used to read here is still around, but I think maybe I'm back. It's hard to come back here, with everything I built this blog on and believed in my core and lived...And now him and I barely speak.
And the part of me I struggled so hard to build this blog on...I don't know how to be her anymore. Because before my true end with him, I never loved anyone he told me not to, I never pursued anything he didn't tell me to, and I never in a million years imagined that someone I had turned myself so completely over to could endeavor so much to destroy me, to destroy my mother, would threaten my life and the lives of everyone i loved...
This blog was a reflection of my life for a very long time; however, I have learned that a reflection of ones life is not always a complete reflection of themselves, but more a reflection of who they are on their path at the time.
I am nothing if not a survivor. And I am still here. I am still me. Perhaps a different version with many core things which will never change.
This blog is nearing a birthday shortly after mine. I haven't checked, but tentatively, I'ma say its gonna be 12 years old. It's my story. And a story does not end when it takes twists and turns. When we lose everything we ever knew and became things we never knew we could to survive. It doesn't end when we tuck away parts of ourselves to survive and vanish into the mists for a bit. A story only ends when there is no one left to tell it, and not one left to hear it.
I remade myself. And yea, I'm still a bit of a fucking mess, and there's aspects of me that I want to unlock and explore more again, I just dunno quite how to yet.
I'll always be who I am at my core. And maybe I'll never understand how he so completely abandoned me and told me to go with others, while hating me for following that instruction, how he of all people could rain what he has on me and no longer care, how some random little girl could mean so much more than me. But it is what it is. And yea, I still care, because...If I didn't, wouldn't that be an egregious insult to all that we were? One day I'll be ok with him choosing a girl he knew for a week over me. One day I'll forgive myself for the fucked up shit I did and its impact on my kids.
Today is perhaps not that day. But that's ok. Because I survived. My kids are ok. And I have a girl that maybe hates me sometimes, but she truly loves me, and she truly loves my boys. And God knows, I do love her.
I'm trying to learn how to give and surrender in the ways that I loved so much with this new knowledge I have...That the person you submit your being to may someday despise you to the core of your being. And I don't yet know how. But I do know how to survive. And I'm still here.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
56 to 100. Maybe...
Okay, so I guess I'm trying to make it to 100 here, and since I stopped at 55, I am more than halfway there already.
56. An amendment to #45 (two for one!). I don't have any female friends that I can go out to coffee with.
57. I can be really insecure when it comes to my husband (it's okay, you can pretend you didn't already know that one).
58. My favorite flavor of ice cream is............Coffee! I'm full of surprises right.
59. I question everything. Another newsflash!
60. I ignore ghosts so they leave me alone. If you don't believe in them more power to you--chances are they won't bother you at all lol.
61. I find empathy to be a rather painful experience but encourage it in my children--people who lack it tend not to care much about other people.
62. I'm happy with my new haircut even though she didn't quite do what I wanted.
63. My brain-to-mouth filter consistently malfunctions.
64. I have dark hair.
65. I never forgave my grandfather for how he treated my dad. Generations to come pay for that crap you know.
66. I have the dubious talent of being able to accidentally close my head in things like cabinets and doors. It seems to provide an endless amount of entertainment for those lacking in such skills.
67. I would rather be told an unhappy truth than an enjoyable lie.
68. I try really hard not to lose my temper because when I do it runs away with my better judgement.
69. I change my blog to suit my moods because I can't dye my hair or rearrange the furniture. He can be so unreasonable!
70. I believe in karma and occasionally wonder where the hell I went wrong.
71. I think this list is getting way to long.
72. I'm the worst tooth fairy in the world--leading to my eldest son's promise to be his brother's tooth fairy (really, I screwed it up with the first tooth. The first tooth!)
73. It doesn't take much for me to start feeling neglected.
74. I have never sent a text.
75. I would never wear shoes if I didn't have to.
76. I like figuring out how to replicate my favorite restaurant meals.
77. I have met women who could repopulate the earth in the time it took me to get out two kids.
78. I think that it is possible, albeit somewhat unpleasant, to love someone and no longer care about them (thing1 being exhibit A).
79. I love being in water but am terrified of it--I swim like a rock. But I can float!
80. I'm never dramatic. This list is killing me!
81. my dream house has it's own library.
82. I went to school for nursing but several experiences with our healthcare system made me decide that I couldn't function in it.
83. I like sucking cock but hate admitting it to him.
84. I'm losing track of what I have already said on this list.
85. I have a love/hate relationship with sex.
86. I'm not happy with the fact that Alpha won't help me finish this damn list.
87. Ooh, he helped me--I like to be told what I want to do.
88. Dirty talk used to make me feel like I needed to go scrub my skin off. Now it turns me on but I still have a really hard time returning the favor.
89. I have had sex with four people in my life. One was a woman and one wasn't voluntary but I'm pretty sure they still count lol.
90. I think sexy is a state of mind.
91. I haven't slept through the night for more than a few nights in a row for nine years. I made the mistake of telling my mom the little one was sleeping through the night so he decided to prove me wrong.
92. Rain makes me happy.
93. I'm a bit of a control freak.
94. I write my best poetry when I'm miserable or blissful.
95. I am most angry when my feelings are hurt.
96. I think that I come across as flirtatious even when I'm not trying to be.
97. I'm pretty sure that the sky would fall if Alpha told me we were no longer going to have a power exchange relationship.
98. Electronics used to spontaneously die when I touched them.
99. Nothing makes me melt quite like being told how much he loves me and how special I am while he hurts me and proves that I'm a whore at heart.
100. It took me a week to finish this friggin list.
56. An amendment to #45 (two for one!). I don't have any female friends that I can go out to coffee with.
57. I can be really insecure when it comes to my husband (it's okay, you can pretend you didn't already know that one).
58. My favorite flavor of ice cream is............Coffee! I'm full of surprises right.
59. I question everything. Another newsflash!
60. I ignore ghosts so they leave me alone. If you don't believe in them more power to you--chances are they won't bother you at all lol.
61. I find empathy to be a rather painful experience but encourage it in my children--people who lack it tend not to care much about other people.
62. I'm happy with my new haircut even though she didn't quite do what I wanted.
63. My brain-to-mouth filter consistently malfunctions.
64. I have dark hair.
65. I never forgave my grandfather for how he treated my dad. Generations to come pay for that crap you know.
66. I have the dubious talent of being able to accidentally close my head in things like cabinets and doors. It seems to provide an endless amount of entertainment for those lacking in such skills.
67. I would rather be told an unhappy truth than an enjoyable lie.
68. I try really hard not to lose my temper because when I do it runs away with my better judgement.
69. I change my blog to suit my moods because I can't dye my hair or rearrange the furniture. He can be so unreasonable!
70. I believe in karma and occasionally wonder where the hell I went wrong.
71. I think this list is getting way to long.
72. I'm the worst tooth fairy in the world--leading to my eldest son's promise to be his brother's tooth fairy (really, I screwed it up with the first tooth. The first tooth!)
73. It doesn't take much for me to start feeling neglected.
74. I have never sent a text.
75. I would never wear shoes if I didn't have to.
76. I like figuring out how to replicate my favorite restaurant meals.
77. I have met women who could repopulate the earth in the time it took me to get out two kids.
78. I think that it is possible, albeit somewhat unpleasant, to love someone and no longer care about them (thing1 being exhibit A).
79. I love being in water but am terrified of it--I swim like a rock. But I can float!
80. I'm never dramatic. This list is killing me!
81. my dream house has it's own library.
82. I went to school for nursing but several experiences with our healthcare system made me decide that I couldn't function in it.
83. I like sucking cock but hate admitting it to him.
84. I'm losing track of what I have already said on this list.
85. I have a love/hate relationship with sex.
86. I'm not happy with the fact that Alpha won't help me finish this damn list.
87. Ooh, he helped me--I like to be told what I want to do.
88. Dirty talk used to make me feel like I needed to go scrub my skin off. Now it turns me on but I still have a really hard time returning the favor.
89. I have had sex with four people in my life. One was a woman and one wasn't voluntary but I'm pretty sure they still count lol.
90. I think sexy is a state of mind.
91. I haven't slept through the night for more than a few nights in a row for nine years. I made the mistake of telling my mom the little one was sleeping through the night so he decided to prove me wrong.
92. Rain makes me happy.
93. I'm a bit of a control freak.
94. I write my best poetry when I'm miserable or blissful.
95. I am most angry when my feelings are hurt.
96. I think that I come across as flirtatious even when I'm not trying to be.
97. I'm pretty sure that the sky would fall if Alpha told me we were no longer going to have a power exchange relationship.
98. Electronics used to spontaneously die when I touched them.
99. Nothing makes me melt quite like being told how much he loves me and how special I am while he hurts me and proves that I'm a whore at heart.
100. It took me a week to finish this friggin list.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
100 Things Minus Some
So I have seen a few of these "100 things about me" posts lately, and since I am all empty on inspiration of my own, I figured I would borrow the idea (can you actually borrow ideas?).
I find reading them interesting because you find out things you would never have known otherwise.
Though I can't guarantee that this will be in the least bit interesting lol.
1. I'm great at starting projects. Not so great at finishing them--that's why this list will probably never make it to 100.
2. I have green eyes.
3. I have a fifth grade education but maintained a 4.0 in college.
4. I wouldn't last a day on my own in New York City, but leave me on my lonesome in the mountains and I'm good.
5. I am that interfering woman who will run across the street to grab someone elses kid before they stick their finger in an electrical outlet while completely failing to notice the parent glaring at me.
6. I grew up without electricity and running water.
7. The last time I walked into a mall with my purse I set off every metal detector I went through.
8. I have ordered myself exactly one alcoholic beverage in my life.
9. People scare me. Animals don't.
10. I read The Mists of Avalon when I was 8, and Conversations With God when I was 10.
11. I'm still afraid of the dark.
12. I have never lived alone. Possibly contributing to number 11?
13. I temporarily misplaced my mother at a concert with 100,000 people. The kids yelled at me that I lost grandma. I say it doesn't count because I did find her lol.
14. This list might not even make it to 20.
15. I once threatened to beat the crap out of my neighbor with a large tree branch (he was the one holding it, and he said it first!)
16. I think snakes are cool.
17. I never thought anyone would read this blog.
18. I always wanted to live far away from where I grew up. Every morning I wake up and see the mountain I grew up on. I made it almost exactly three miles away from my childhood home lol.
19. I think this list might have been a bad idea--I'm boring myself.
20. I got heatstroke when I was 12 and to this day getting too hot makes me sick.
21. I have had chronic headaches for a year.
22. People think I'm scary but that's just because my husband tries to make me sound mean.
23. I may be the least forgiving person I know.
24. I watched my father die.
25. I gave birth to my kids without drugs. It's an overrated concept.
26. The one really creepy dude in every crowd will inevitably approach me.
27. My dermatologist told me I was the whitest person he had ever seen form such prolific keloid scars.
28. I tend to cry when I'm angry.
29. I don't know how to deal with girl children or their mothers.
30. I have been told that I make awesome green chili stew.
31. My obsession with knives didn't start with D/s--I was the only eight year old I know who's hobby was throwing knives.
32. I quit walking on the gym treadmills when I was pregnant with our second son because an old lady on oxygen put me to shame.
33. I used to be very good with a bow and arrow.
34. There has never been a point in my life when I didn't have a dog.
35. I worry about everything.
36. I can drive one lane mountain roads in two feet of snow all day long but have panic attacks if I have to drive in the city.
37. This list just might make it to 50.
38. I don't consider myself to be dramatic, but I have no qualms about claiming that I would die if I had to live without coffee.
39. I used to have nightmares about being burnt alive in churches (make whatever you want of that one lol).
40. I think that everyone has the right to believe in whatever God[s] they want--I just don't want that belief shoved down my throat.
41. I think that all stuck up women should be left alone in the woods over night.
42. I don't enjoy sex without D/s.
43. I don't find men without an air of Dominance in the least bit attractive no matter how gorgeous they are.
44. I know what career I really want but am to chicken to go for it.
45. I have no female friends (possibly related to numbers 23 and 41).
46. My libido sucks.
47. I tutored college algebra while taking the class.
48. I count on my fingers but make sure my kids don't see it.
49. I tend to be self conscious.
50. I hate it when women I don't know walk up to me and say they hate me because I don't look like I have two kids.
51. I will never own a Kindle because I believe books are precious. Plus they just smell good and there's nothing quite like staring at a shelf full of them.
52. I have really wide feet and none of the cool shoes fit me.
53. Jealousy is my least favorite emotion to experience.
54. I think that anyone who made it this far deserves to go read something interesting.
55. Maybe one of these days I'll do 56-100.
I find reading them interesting because you find out things you would never have known otherwise.
Though I can't guarantee that this will be in the least bit interesting lol.
1. I'm great at starting projects. Not so great at finishing them--that's why this list will probably never make it to 100.
2. I have green eyes.
3. I have a fifth grade education but maintained a 4.0 in college.
4. I wouldn't last a day on my own in New York City, but leave me on my lonesome in the mountains and I'm good.
5. I am that interfering woman who will run across the street to grab someone elses kid before they stick their finger in an electrical outlet while completely failing to notice the parent glaring at me.
6. I grew up without electricity and running water.
7. The last time I walked into a mall with my purse I set off every metal detector I went through.
8. I have ordered myself exactly one alcoholic beverage in my life.
9. People scare me. Animals don't.
10. I read The Mists of Avalon when I was 8, and Conversations With God when I was 10.
11. I'm still afraid of the dark.
12. I have never lived alone. Possibly contributing to number 11?
13. I temporarily misplaced my mother at a concert with 100,000 people. The kids yelled at me that I lost grandma. I say it doesn't count because I did find her lol.
14. This list might not even make it to 20.
15. I once threatened to beat the crap out of my neighbor with a large tree branch (he was the one holding it, and he said it first!)
16. I think snakes are cool.
17. I never thought anyone would read this blog.
18. I always wanted to live far away from where I grew up. Every morning I wake up and see the mountain I grew up on. I made it almost exactly three miles away from my childhood home lol.
19. I think this list might have been a bad idea--I'm boring myself.
20. I got heatstroke when I was 12 and to this day getting too hot makes me sick.
21. I have had chronic headaches for a year.
22. People think I'm scary but that's just because my husband tries to make me sound mean.
23. I may be the least forgiving person I know.
24. I watched my father die.
25. I gave birth to my kids without drugs. It's an overrated concept.
26. The one really creepy dude in every crowd will inevitably approach me.
27. My dermatologist told me I was the whitest person he had ever seen form such prolific keloid scars.
28. I tend to cry when I'm angry.
29. I don't know how to deal with girl children or their mothers.
30. I have been told that I make awesome green chili stew.
31. My obsession with knives didn't start with D/s--I was the only eight year old I know who's hobby was throwing knives.
32. I quit walking on the gym treadmills when I was pregnant with our second son because an old lady on oxygen put me to shame.
33. I used to be very good with a bow and arrow.
34. There has never been a point in my life when I didn't have a dog.
35. I worry about everything.
36. I can drive one lane mountain roads in two feet of snow all day long but have panic attacks if I have to drive in the city.
37. This list just might make it to 50.
38. I don't consider myself to be dramatic, but I have no qualms about claiming that I would die if I had to live without coffee.
39. I used to have nightmares about being burnt alive in churches (make whatever you want of that one lol).
40. I think that everyone has the right to believe in whatever God[s] they want--I just don't want that belief shoved down my throat.
41. I think that all stuck up women should be left alone in the woods over night.
42. I don't enjoy sex without D/s.
43. I don't find men without an air of Dominance in the least bit attractive no matter how gorgeous they are.
44. I know what career I really want but am to chicken to go for it.
45. I have no female friends (possibly related to numbers 23 and 41).
46. My libido sucks.
47. I tutored college algebra while taking the class.
48. I count on my fingers but make sure my kids don't see it.
49. I tend to be self conscious.
50. I hate it when women I don't know walk up to me and say they hate me because I don't look like I have two kids.
51. I will never own a Kindle because I believe books are precious. Plus they just smell good and there's nothing quite like staring at a shelf full of them.
52. I have really wide feet and none of the cool shoes fit me.
53. Jealousy is my least favorite emotion to experience.
54. I think that anyone who made it this far deserves to go read something interesting.
55. Maybe one of these days I'll do 56-100.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
When it's Not Okay...But it Can Be
So my little personal revelation the other day was...Not so little. I have issues lol (imagine that). And I spent years pretending I didn't. Yea, that doesn't work.
I have always felt like the "warning possible triggers ahead" disclaimer was, oh I dunno, excessively dramatic. So ummm, there's my version of "read at your own risk." I don't personally feel that the way it came out is disturbing, but there you have it lol. As usual, my writing is more about emotion and thought than the physical.
This is not a topic I have really chosen to highlight in my blog. Perhaps because I don't really like to put much thought to it. But I think that perhaps it is time to pull it back out and reexamine things because I feel like there's a shift in an area that I thought I had pretty wrapped up with a neat little bow.
The problem with storing shit in the closet, is that it is always in your home. I guess it's time to clean house some more.
When I was a kid we had these neighbors. They were about a couple decades older than my parents. She was a former school teacher and offered to take over my schooling. I think I was seven. I would also occasionally bathe there because of our water situation.
From then until I was 14 her husband screwed with me in various ways. Mostly mental. He spent seven years doing an amazingly nasty number on my head. Among other things, he taught me what talking dirty was. It's only been over the last years that talking dirty didn't evoke a horrible sense of filth within me (which explains why Alpha froze in shock the first time we were in bed and I begged him to call me his slut).
Lol, even now I have an aversion to actually speaking that way myself.
That was when I learned my disdain for people who know about bad things happening and do nothing. I was the last in a 35 year long train of girls. I got off lucky I guess--he was too afraid of my father to add me to his trophy pictures.
I also learned how one can feel dirty from the inside out.
When I was 14 my friends older brother had "something to show" me out back. Yea, he did. He showed me that it is possible to disconnect one's mind from their body. A few times as I recall.
It stopped when Alpha and I got together. He still frowns when the topic comes up and he is reminded that I didn't tell him the whole story then.
It's a painful mix, the feeling crawling under your skin and chewing on your mind, combined with walking away from your body.
I don't think I was "home" for many years of Alpha and I's mostly non-existent sex life.
To this day, men in control or in charge tend to make me nervous. Especially when they are bigger than me.
Oh the irony in that one--that which attracts me most also makes me want to turn and run.
Anyways...
Things changed when we began exploring ttwd. For a very long time I had felt...I don't know how to explain it besides that feeling where you really need a shower, but on the inside. And you scrub and scrub but you just cannot become...Clean.
That changed. I no longer thought about my past every day. I felt like with each step we took down this new path, a layer of crud was being stripped off.
I don't usually think about it very often anymore.
Until last night when I was standing in the kitchen and realized that I don't allow myself to feel sexual desire largely because I feel that it is wrong and dangerous for me to do so. And for the first time in my life, I consciously thought "it's okay to feel this way."
Call me a slow learner if you want, because it's something Alpha has been telling me for over a decade. But for some reason I never actually felt it until I was able to say it to myself.
My disloyalty to Alpha earlier in our relationship kind of contributed to the way I repress anything related to desire. It gave me a layer of self-created crud that I sometimes wonder if I'll ever completely get rid of.
We weren't D/s then, but after we went down this path, I often wished he would have punished me for it, and I do occasionally wonder why he never did. Perhaps the emotional mess of our life at the time was enough punishment for both of us.
Though the more control he takes, the more it fades.
We were talking a while back and he said that I didn't have to worry about it anymore--because the decisions regarding my body are his to make now. He told me that all I had to do was put his desires before those of anyone else, and that he would place the needs of our children and myself before his desires.
Fair enough right.
Yea, I flopped into pure doubt there and asked what happened if he couldn't control what I let out. He smiled and said that he had is doubts about the possibility, but if he couldn't, he would just shove it back in the box.
I don't think that I really believed he could control that aspect of me until last night. When I told myself it was okay.
Ooh, okay, so letting go is about trust. I suddenly get that--Just because I trust him implicitly doesn't mean I trusted his ability to control whatever I let out. I love it when concepts click.
I debated turning off comments on this post because...Well because over all I was lucky. I got off pretty easy all things considered. And I am most definitely not looking for sympathy. I'm looking to let go of some things that I have held onto for a very long time.
And while my past is part of who I am today, it does not define my present or my future.
For a very long time I felt like I was poison. You know, the kind that looks benign on the outside, but a touch, makes you whither up and die?
Now I'm thinking...Maybe I'm not.
I have always felt like the "warning possible triggers ahead" disclaimer was, oh I dunno, excessively dramatic. So ummm, there's my version of "read at your own risk." I don't personally feel that the way it came out is disturbing, but there you have it lol. As usual, my writing is more about emotion and thought than the physical.
This is not a topic I have really chosen to highlight in my blog. Perhaps because I don't really like to put much thought to it. But I think that perhaps it is time to pull it back out and reexamine things because I feel like there's a shift in an area that I thought I had pretty wrapped up with a neat little bow.
The problem with storing shit in the closet, is that it is always in your home. I guess it's time to clean house some more.
When I was a kid we had these neighbors. They were about a couple decades older than my parents. She was a former school teacher and offered to take over my schooling. I think I was seven. I would also occasionally bathe there because of our water situation.
From then until I was 14 her husband screwed with me in various ways. Mostly mental. He spent seven years doing an amazingly nasty number on my head. Among other things, he taught me what talking dirty was. It's only been over the last years that talking dirty didn't evoke a horrible sense of filth within me (which explains why Alpha froze in shock the first time we were in bed and I begged him to call me his slut).
Lol, even now I have an aversion to actually speaking that way myself.
That was when I learned my disdain for people who know about bad things happening and do nothing. I was the last in a 35 year long train of girls. I got off lucky I guess--he was too afraid of my father to add me to his trophy pictures.
I also learned how one can feel dirty from the inside out.
When I was 14 my friends older brother had "something to show" me out back. Yea, he did. He showed me that it is possible to disconnect one's mind from their body. A few times as I recall.
It stopped when Alpha and I got together. He still frowns when the topic comes up and he is reminded that I didn't tell him the whole story then.
It's a painful mix, the feeling crawling under your skin and chewing on your mind, combined with walking away from your body.
I don't think I was "home" for many years of Alpha and I's mostly non-existent sex life.
To this day, men in control or in charge tend to make me nervous. Especially when they are bigger than me.
Oh the irony in that one--that which attracts me most also makes me want to turn and run.
Anyways...
Things changed when we began exploring ttwd. For a very long time I had felt...I don't know how to explain it besides that feeling where you really need a shower, but on the inside. And you scrub and scrub but you just cannot become...Clean.
That changed. I no longer thought about my past every day. I felt like with each step we took down this new path, a layer of crud was being stripped off.
I don't usually think about it very often anymore.
Until last night when I was standing in the kitchen and realized that I don't allow myself to feel sexual desire largely because I feel that it is wrong and dangerous for me to do so. And for the first time in my life, I consciously thought "it's okay to feel this way."
Call me a slow learner if you want, because it's something Alpha has been telling me for over a decade. But for some reason I never actually felt it until I was able to say it to myself.
My disloyalty to Alpha earlier in our relationship kind of contributed to the way I repress anything related to desire. It gave me a layer of self-created crud that I sometimes wonder if I'll ever completely get rid of.
We weren't D/s then, but after we went down this path, I often wished he would have punished me for it, and I do occasionally wonder why he never did. Perhaps the emotional mess of our life at the time was enough punishment for both of us.
Though the more control he takes, the more it fades.
We were talking a while back and he said that I didn't have to worry about it anymore--because the decisions regarding my body are his to make now. He told me that all I had to do was put his desires before those of anyone else, and that he would place the needs of our children and myself before his desires.
Fair enough right.
Yea, I flopped into pure doubt there and asked what happened if he couldn't control what I let out. He smiled and said that he had is doubts about the possibility, but if he couldn't, he would just shove it back in the box.
I don't think that I really believed he could control that aspect of me until last night. When I told myself it was okay.
Ooh, okay, so letting go is about trust. I suddenly get that--Just because I trust him implicitly doesn't mean I trusted his ability to control whatever I let out. I love it when concepts click.
I debated turning off comments on this post because...Well because over all I was lucky. I got off pretty easy all things considered. And I am most definitely not looking for sympathy. I'm looking to let go of some things that I have held onto for a very long time.
And while my past is part of who I am today, it does not define my present or my future.
For a very long time I felt like I was poison. You know, the kind that looks benign on the outside, but a touch, makes you whither up and die?
Now I'm thinking...Maybe I'm not.
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