The last Saturday I lost my baby. Actually he dumped me. He treated me like I was potential stalker material. I understand why he dumped me. I just wish he had the balls to come clean with me and tell me what I did that finally cut the cord. That’s okay though. He was a lawn care worker, not anything big. Not that I have anything against guys who work with their hands. I’m just reminding myself that I don’t need him, he’s not better than me. I’m perpetually stuck in my early teenaged years when it comes to dealing with relationships. I’ve had a few yet they were so toxic/abnormal/unhealthy you pick an adjective and I’ve had one of those.
So this week was not good. It wasn’t hell. I’ve had weeks like that but I’ve been able to get through them. This week I mindfully dealt with my emotions and strove to keep going while taking mental breaks when I needed them. Take for instance Tuesday. A very gentle and nice guy came and visited me. Now that sounds nice right? He triggered my PTSD and all day Monday my anxiety made my body literally shiver as if I was cold. I knew him. I had a former SO who was similar to him. And he made my anxiety come out whenever he was unstable or had an episode. Tuesday I drove a friend around as planned up to Providence to her appointments. I stayed on track and tried not to talk too much about my visitor. Once I got home I smoked and ate a half tab of Xanax.
Thursday night was particularly bad. My anxiety climbed so high that I started having a panic attack. I asked my son to do something with me. He suggested a movie and I agreed because I had no clue what would help. I smoked on the way up. The green made my anxiety climb and climb. By the time we saw the movie I was close to a panic attack. During the movie though my anxiety sank and the panic attack subsided. Afterwards I drove us home and felt almost normal. I didn’t feel like I was a total failure as I had been feeling since Saturday. Yet in the morning I awoke with anxiety again.
Today (Friday,) I spent sleeping late once I got home. I took Lorazipam and it put me out for an hour or two. I had planned on seeing two guys but one didn’t work out and the other never contacted me. Nevermind, I was happy to spend a day at home without having to entertain anyone. Tonight I go to bed very soon. I hope for some cleansing sleep without waking to horrible emotions.
Throughout this week I’ve been questioning whether or not I can be a Mommy Domme if I have such emotional issues…
My life has taken a turn in the past 18 months. I need to read the rest of this and take it to heart.
Has he lost his mind?
Does he really think I am going to do things like that to him?
That’s dangerous, why would he want that?
(*Serendipity McKink circa 2006ish)
That’s a search term that showed up in the search term scroll a couple of days ago.
I looked at it and wondered:
Did the person doing the search want to know how to
“orate like a Domme”
===== as in=====
voice tenor and words to speak that would “sound like” a Domme…… or…..were they looking for vid clips/stories of Dommes who perform urethral sounding?
sound play, cock stuffing,
I’ve even heard it referred to as “poking the lizard”
and no doubt there are other terms for this type of kink play.
Sounding or urethral sounding is the medical use of probes called sounds to increase the…
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It’s been a while. How long? I don’t quite know. It’s almost like when I disassociate. A block of time is gone.
It’s all about sex now. The hyper-sexuality hasn’t taken over but it is there. Almost as bad when I was a child.
I sat on the toilet, the one I sat on as I child. I masturbated on when I was 5. I smoked a quarter of a cigarette and pondered why. It tasted cruddy. Not sexy, it scorched my throat. I snipped off the cherry, replaced it with it’s stained filter back in the pack. Why? Why am I doing this? These thoughtless actions that make me feel like I have attention. Not that they’re hollow. They’re seen as low by society. I feel driven.
I have BED. Binge Eating Disorder. I suspected as much but was brought up to deny any mental problems and hence get no help for them. It’s difficult for me to take myself seriously. I don’t need help. Only REALLY messed up people do.
And caught in the stupidity I call me. I am very good losing myself outside of reality. That is why I hate romance. It’s bs.
I’ve been having online sex (?) and it’s culminated in video calls. I don’t feel cheap or any of that used kind of stuff. I just feel like it is going no where. There is no potential for it serving me except in maybe relieving some stress. And it has. But it doesn’t mean anything; there’s no ends to the means. Sex is excellent, but it’s empty and there isn’t even the promise of a cuddle after it’s over. At least a one night affair you might get someone to sleep beside you.
I’ve got nothing specific on my mind. What do I do with the sex I give? Do I stop doing this and leave it to the past? I don’t know. I am tired of listening to the taunts of society and how sex shows a woman’s morality.
I am watching A.I. right now. The Mecha are being sacrificed in the blood and electricity show. The tortures are being prepared for the machines. David watches the machines become destroyed.
I think I saw lulz. He called himself DudeAnxiety or something like that. I think he dropped a hint. I didn’t PM him. He left within something I have no clue how to deal with. I assume he doesn’t care about me anyway. I’d heard that he was attracted to cake. That’s fine and all but I am no frigging middle man. All my freaking life. I have had to deal with being pushed aside for other people’s feelings, their wants, their needs, their beliefs. I won’t do it. I won’t be a piece of paper towel.
And I guess that brings us back to the topic at hand. I don’t feel like a paper towel. I just feel there is no point in empty sex. There is no love or intimacy behind it. And there holds no future.
To leave on a better note: I think that I need to do more real time things that lead to possible actual events. There is more chance to network. More of a chance to meet someone face to face. There is a future in the real. The potential of dreams is comfort. The reality of actuality is the future. There is more pain in reality, but the chance of something happening is infinitely higher than just wishing or dreaming.
Days like these. I know I hit the wall. Humanity hates me. Civilization eschews me. Society shuns me. There is something that I’m suppose to remember about these times. I always forget though so I’m doomed and damned to repeat them. Is it the sex, the libido?Am I too smart, not smart enough? I like to think I’m special especially when I feel like I’m being tortured for a reason. This is just life. And as special as people like to think it is, it’s self deception so they can handle the inequity of it all.
Why today? If I knew I’d try to solve this. I’m just familiar with the feelings I get when a day like today happens. Discord, weariness, sadness, alienation, distance. I don’t want to be touched. I feel like a disease. Affection is obscene. End this.
Earlier today I talked about how it’s not my issue what’s going on with lulz. I have to leave that behind. It’s not like he wants me involved in his life or anything. And this makes me feel really down. Through my talk to Navarre I talked to myself, explaining that I am getting confusing readings on him. I think he hates me, then he says he might like me. I hear in my head: “The more you write about him the further away you drive him.” I don’t really even know him. But I am very much within the mental ride that takes off inside my head and makes everything paranoid and fearful.
I feel like that makes me a weak and worthless individual but I’m in it. Caught like a fly in the web. This ride will go until either things calm down or it will blow through until everything is destroyed. It’s a screaming scare but fun as all hell until I discover that the involved players will always ever after be alienated.
What is to be will be what it is afterwards too. I have things to do I can keep myself busy. I used to want to wallow in the angst when young but now. Well now I just want to be busy. I don’t want to think of anything. Anymore. I want to be clean. It hurts so very much. I don’t know why. Is it because I miss Gary and lulz reminds me of him? Do I want lulz so much that I can’t stand to miss him if he hates me? None of this makes sense.
I’m driving myself to distraction.
Even though the guy I like ran out of chat, I feel better than I did most of the day. I don’t dare say much about him only because I feel it will jinx anything positive that could come from us ever being together. I know that sounds crazy but I think of him often. If this is not to be I would like it to end so I can get to the mourning part and recovering as fast as possible.
Some of the emotions have got to be linked with health, good nutrition, exercise and stability. Forgetting to eat yesterday really messed me up. Feeling like people were specifically looking at me and hating me reminded me of when I lived in depression. I am running from it. Depression I mean.
I am crazy. I don’t believe it but I am. What my brain does to alter my experience in this world from other people who have no such problems makes my life a living hell. And normal people can not empathize. They think they understand but they don’t. They have the television school story understanding which is a glossed over empty version of what people in general want to believe is actually happening to people who are crazy.
I am hiding. I am hoping. I am hurting. I am happy. It is all swirling. My mind is trying to pick up the pieces, fast, fast, faster. GET IT ALL TOGETHER. Don’t show anyone. You are not really crazy, you are busy recovering. So normal until the next time. Trip, spurn, crash, burn. Come hither young soul, I consume you, you die. You are old now and used. Bitter’s the pill you take for your head. You will stumble down that empty and lonesome road. Although you go alone, you won’t betray anyone. But you will also not be able to touch someone again. Take it down. Put it down. Betray yourself and watch it all burn from afar. You sucker.
It’s easy to see a hurricane or tornado as they rage on about you or stumble their way toward you. When the drops comes down you know it’s a rain storm. You can see hail or sleet or snow, it’s apparent that the clouds are hurling nature’s answer to an angry weather system. What about an internal tempest? Is there always an indication that it’s coming or in action?
In trying to regulate my own issues I relate my mind to nature and it’s habit of bringing on storms. While storms in real life are relatively easy to detect and even see from afar, the ones in my mind and sometimes physical body aren’t always easily noticed, at least to me. Some occur while I stand dazed at what’s happening, wondering where did it come from and what did I do to incur it’s wrath. I sometimes believe that my mind is a separate entity and that it hates me and enjoys punishing me and that it wants me to change something but I usually don’t have a clue what. It’s frustrating to have reached this point in my life and still feel like I am not in control of my mind. There have been some changes, I’m not totally out of control. Some things have worked relatively reliably over time like music. I can sometimes direct my emotional soundtrack in my head with an iPod and headphones. Add walking to that and my mood does go up.
Tangent alert: I’m going to talk about the dating thing I’m trying out. I’ve joined 2 mental illness dating sites online. NLL is okay and managed by one man. It has a chat area, a way to search, browse and message other users. The other site is ugly (it’s dark and not very welcoming looking to me,) expensive, and there’s just something about it that turns me off. I don’t care to go on it. In fact I really haven’t contacted anyone on this site while I have contacted at least 5 guys on the other site. Plus it includes physical illness and may include people who are disability lovers but don’t have a disability themselves. That’s kind of weird to me.
Worse is me, my reaction to online dating and the realization that this isn’t what I thought it was going to be. When I started I was paranoid. People were going to see my information. I’ve always been warned to be careful in putting out too much information online. In order to get to know people you have to disclose enough so that they can disclose enough so you both feel you know something so you can communicate. If you can’t communicate you don’t get anywhere and usually you both get frustrated.
Photographs. I hate photographs. Judgemental, 2 dimensional supposed representations of who you are. I judge, you judge the whole world judges, we all know this. And usually we all agree that it is not good. At the same time how do you figure you’ll possibly be attracted to someone unless you can see what they look like. I have to be honest, A 500 lb. man will intimidate me. In my profile I write that I do not like beards because I don’t. Yes it’s shallow. Well, in my case it’s trauma induced. It can appear to others to be shallow but they don’t know the reasons behind my dislike. The first guy I met (didn’t meet him on a dating site we hooked up because of fb,) called me “interesting” although that didn’t stop him from frottage or wanting to get into my pants. Then again that means nothing when it comes to arousal. I didn’t want to post any pictures and was considering stopping all this mess. Of course I didn’t rationalizing that I would find someone who liked how I looked if I included a picture. So I am not beauty personified, I could be worse.
I started with one guy who seemed interested in me. He seemed a bit cultured and interesting. I asked him questions about himself. I chatted with him then chatted privately. We took if off site. The sexting happened twice, fast, easy hot then gone. He wanted a picture. I backed off a bit and considered what to do. I resented being asked as I hate personal photographs. I think he felt that and he disappeared leaving me a nice “I am really busy right now” message in his wake.
Well anyway it went on from there, sexting with another even though I knew I should slow it down. I was very angry with myself and it wasn’t even satisfying for them or me. The next two guys I talked to off site but the first told I wouldn’t sext with him. I want a real relationship and doing that seems bogus and cheap. The next guy really didn’t seem to be occupied with sex. He seemed to literally be an “angry young man”. We talked for 6 hours all night. When he found out my son was 6 years younger than him he backed off (yesterday.) I’m not upset, he seemed kind of uneducated and immature for 36. This is not sour grapes. I know if we had actually hooked up and gotten serious I would have gotten frustrated with some of his opinions. And he was very opinionated. Which isn’t necessarily bad just that if you are opinionated, get your facts straight and back up your beliefs.
I’m still talking to the guy that I sexted but frustrated And the second guy off site who I told no to. I write messages to 3 different other guys but I refuse to deal with the sex issue. I don’t want to feel like I am involved with a guy that way when sexting is really disposable. It’s like sex in a bathroom. Hot when it happens but dirty and sad when it’s over. I and I’m sure the guy I did it with probably don’t want to continue with anything serious after that.
I really feel from the start I took this endeavor way too seriously. I attached my sense of looks, my identity and my commitment to an initial step in meeting men. I got loyal with some of them, emotionally threw myself at others and became attached to the idea of what I wanted some of them to be. It really sucked. One of them had a good suggestion that I should back off from the site at one point. I listened and was able to get a small bit of perspective of how I looked, what I was doing and where it would get me. I was thankful for his suggestion and every now and then it helps me continue with this venture.
I decided to supplement this with real world experiences. I go to a Meetup group every week to help me talk to other people, men and women, not about dating but about illness. I seek other real time experiences, male, female, mixed company so I can just learn how to calm down and be human. I mean that sounds dopey but I think that experiences and people meeting is important in learning social interactions and learning how I react to others in this world. And it takes the edge off the goal of meeting a potential mate, partner or whatever.
So I’m doing things, seeing people, joining activities without an agenda. Of course this is not true, right? I want to get better, I want a partner, I want to stay fit, I don’t want to be depressed again, I want to stay here, I want sex with a man, I want a small sense of normality. I would really like to sound normal when I talk to “normal” people. All these things color the background of my activities and my encounters with other people nuero-divergent or not.
Yesterday I was on the chat site of the MI website for dating. A very young guy 21 came on and was bemoaning the fact that he would never get a woman. One of the people on there, a long term member tried to help him out. Give him some pointers if you will. I went to his profile later to find some disturbing beliefs about women. The member trying to help him must have flipped to his profile for after some conversation the member backed off. Told him he couldn’t be helped. Which was truthful but other people were taking it as a joke and making fun of this kid.
It was awful. The kid was upset. People were making snide remarks. I asked 2 times for people to stop it; it wasn’t funny. The kid had some serious brain defect. His corpus callosum was not connected. There was something seriously wrong with him. I was not effective in dealing with the issue.
Now I feel weird about going back to the chat room. I was going to write a short thank you note to the guy that tried to help this messed up kid out. But I think I burned him by writing a very personal note to him a few days before. I am very attracted to him. But this is online. Everything is warped. Nothing is real. It doesn’t mean anything. I am attracted and intimidated by him in turns. It’s uncomfortable. I want to touch him but he’s not even in the same state as me. I’ve seen his picture but who knows? I just want to lay down with him. Nothing dirty. I need a little comfort. I like his brain. I like his banter.
But I have to get it into my head. He doesn’t know me. I don’t know him. We’ve never met. We may never meet. It makes me tired and sad. Then I become insecure. I start to think I’m not good looking. That I am unworthy of love. His attention (because he can’t possibly love me.) My mind has a field day at my expense. The BED kicks in. I cram food inside me. Make myself nauseous. Regret consumption. Deep inside of you. Tear my mind away.
It has been a while since I wrote anything. I sit in this broken down recliner that is so old, shivering because of fear. I don’t care to be here and hiding. I just don’t know what else to do when I’ve exposed myself and the MI reveals my ignorance and lack of restraint.
You know when someone tells you they love you it doesn’t mean that they are in love with you. My mind automatically translates it that way though. It takes me some distance to weed that out. And when I do and know I’ve been seen for the desperate loser I am. I hate that. I don’t want to be weak. Weakness has always gotten me used and hurt. A story that has been played again and again. I’d rather hurt myself. I know I love myself and will be there for the fall.
So all this rambling is an introduction to my entry into dating again. A guy from fb, not even a friend contacted me. And I got into it with him very fast. One day and it was over. I don’t even know if I cared. That disturbs me. Like a one night stand. But there was no intercourse. There was no love. There was touching and I question why? Did I need comfort? Did I need to feel like I was sexy?
See I had surgery about a year and 2 months ago. I lost 130 lbs. in 2 years. Great. But even though I feel good mentally and physically it doesn’t change how I deal with people and life.
I went on a mental illness dating website. I joined a few weeks back. I talked to one guy and we got into it pretty fast. Luckily enough we don’t live close so nothing physical happened. Now he’s not talking to me. That doesn’t really bother me. I’m kind of embarrassed I was so graphic with him. I just wish I could reverse it, turn it around or something so I could get back to getting to know him. I told myself I just wanted to get to know guys. Make friends. Not screw. And I betray myself every time. DBT isn’t working out for me. Yeah, I get it, use my wise mind. Blah, blah, blah. My sexual mind laughs at that. and it’s got the power to turn it out on it’s @ss.
I know why I am so f*ed up when it comes to sex. That’s no mystery. I just don’t understand why I can’t seem to control it or learn some way to deal with it so I can deal with men when my libido rages. I love it, crave it, want it and it burns me every time.