• Into the Wood Chipper

    Note: This went dark fast, so… content warning? It gets graphic and ugly. Also, I do understand that there is a difference between being assaulted by someone with bad intentions and being assaulted by someone with good intentions… I just don’t care. Everyone seems to feel that it is extremely relevant to consider the intentions… but as I used to tell Michael. If you run over me with your car, whether you meant to do it or not has shit all effect on my broken arm. It’s Monday. It’s trauma therapy night. For the past two days I settled into a place of absolute emotional nothingness. Not depression, as I’ve…

  • Presumption – Rant

    There’s a phenomenon I have observed in the kinkyverse.  In my observation it disproportionately (though not exclusively) affects men (of the dominant persuasion) rather than women (of the dominant persuasion), and it is one of those hot buttons that instantly makes me clench up and want to punch someone in the face.  Fortunately, Sir has the same reaction.  He wouldn’t have me if he didn’t. Here is what it is. A woman who presents as a submissive female (or sometimes even a switch), with a male dominant partner.  Another male dominant will say to the male partner, “You know what you should do…” or “You know if she was MY…

  • Settling

    Last night was, obviously, rough, but I talked to several good friends today and it felt so good to just… to reach out… and meet outstretched hands in return.  It is still alien to me to share my feelings, to accept compassion, to… talk about… my real self.  But it was positive and healing, and for those people and others who are probably wondering, I thought I would update today.  Also, I’m trying to challenge myself to write every day.  Writing a journal/blog post isn’t exactly my ideal of “writing every day” but I suppose when my baseline is “writing never” I will have to accept that any bar at…

  • Living and Dying

    It’s been, I just realized, 4 months plus since I last posted.  I don’t even want to talk about it because it feels pointless to say anything else about it. In August I got a diagnosis for what has been going on with me for years.  There were all these, “This is hopeful!  Now we know what it is and we can fight it!” speeches.  But I’ve heard those speeches too many times and I tried hard not to invest any hope in this new round. I wasn’t completely successful.

  • Secrets to Keep

    There were bruises on my hands.  I wasn’t to write with my left.  I knew it but I forgot.  At least I think I forgot.  Maybe I was just angry. First grade isn’t for babies.  Only babies switch hands when they write.  I was to use my right hand.  The ruler stung the backs of my hands to remind me when I forgot.  Or maybe when I was angry.

  • Ordinary Girl

    Such an ordinary girl, don’t you look it. Come on, tell us, tell us, ordinary girl. First date, first kiss… Naw, I don’t feel like telling. Come on, tell us, tell us, ordinary girl. First love, first base… You don’t want to know. Sure we do, tell us, tell us, ordinary girl. First time, all the way…