Authenticity versus Decency

One of the biggest struggles I find myself going through lately is that of being authentic vs. decent. This struggle came to a head this past weekend when I picked on a Domme for getting in the pool at night by herself knowing she could not swim. And despite my best intentions to help her hours earlier she showed no true interest in learning. I had some drinks in me and it made my tongue looser but the words were my true feelings. She has been a woman who was kind to me when I first broke up with O but after some months I started to feel like her kindness was fake because she had a sexual interest in me. Not to mention I didn't feel I could trust that things spoken to her stayed with her. I don't feel a particular need lately (as opposed to many years previously)to be "extra" nice to those who identify as Dom/mes. I give the respect as it is warranted and deserved but after a year of being ignored, lied to, lied on, disrespected and hurt by so called dominants my patience is quite thin. I feel more like myself than ever before. I feel like my true authentic self. Aside from my outward looks, I feel so comfortable with myself, who I am and where myself is going. Its such an exciting feeling. I wish I could paint it on everyone so they could feel how I feel! But I feel I may have truly hurt this Domme's feelings in a way that I am sure she will be much to proud to admit. My decent side feels like I should apologize but it would only be an apology of goodwill. I don't really mean it. Did she once apologize for some of the crap she has done to me? Newp! And why? Because I identify as a "submissive". I just find it all be a big ball of bullshit at the end of the day. I am a grown woman and she is a grown woman. However I do want to be seen as a good submissive woman by those who are important to me. It's such a conundrum. Truth is she will probably say something later. And I will apologize. Just because that's the kinda girl I am. Maybe that's my most authentic part?

Searching...

The last few weeks has me searching for something. I am not sure what it is but I have that "I'll know it when I see it feeling". I have spent the last year in a hole, shell of myself feeling sorry for myself. But lately I feel so amazingly happy with myself and the path I am on. I feel like finally the world is opening up to me as I have always wanted it to. I need to resteer this blog back to its original purpose.

I swam for the first time this past weekend. Really swam. Into the 9 feet part of the pool with no worry and no fear. I was a swimmer! The lack of fear amazed me. It made me feel strong. I feel so strong and amazing lately. I guess because I am.

In and Out of Time - By: Maya Angelou

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance...our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....
Mmmm...God how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares to dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out
of time.

ATL

Something is tugging on my soul and telling me I belong in Atlanta. Not sure what it is or why...but its becoming harder to ignore.


On a side note I got my referral to the lap band program. 6 months stand between me and a new start. I am excited...nervous...yeah, all that.

Did She?

I sometimes wonder what was going through her mind when she realized he didn't love her either.

I wonder if she cried or if she got angry.

I wonder if she screamed or remained silent.

I wonder if she plead with God or attempted to make a deal with the devil.

I wonder if she accepted it or if she is still in denial.

I wonder if she is still trying or if she has given up.

I wonder if she is a better person than I am for staying.

The different faces of disaster

I think it started in high school. That's when I would see people, namely the popular kids, and wonder why it was that God saw fit to make their lives so much better than mine. I couldn't understand why they were more liked, prettier and just seemed to have their lives together. I didn't understand why that could not be me.

It's a feeling that shows it face from time to time. I had that feeling once as I watched my white male anglosaxen co-worker tell me about his house and his lovely wife and their designer duds and Mercedes car. Hell we work the same job with the same degree and experience and I could not understand how he could have so much more than me. We have gotten very close over the past year and I have heard stories of his empty bank accounts, past drug addictions and current struggle with mental health issues. He seemed perfect. It was quite the eye opener for me. Once in graduate school while eating in the faculty dining room I saw a girl who used to pick on me in a horrible way, working in the line serving food. I placed my order and pretended not to know who she was. She immediately lit up and said, "J! It's good to see you!" I smiled and answered her, though I felt so small for holding on to such a bitter memory. Another eye opener.

I feel that way sometimes when I see others in the lifestyle. They seem to have these beautiful lives. They are models and the cameras are ready to take their pictures but as I have allowed myself to sit back and be silent for a while I have noticed many of them are a beautiful disaster. They cannot manage their lives, they create chaos where they walk. For many of them I suppose their outward beauty is their wild card and even their high card. My intimidation of them has made a quick decline as I have realized they are all just like me, a beautiful disaster. I got blessed with the brains and them with the looks. I am sure they would want to trade with me as I have days I would love to trade with them. I am learning to be more appreciative of what I have and to not try to guess someone's story, good or bad. Other people go through the same things I go through; sad times, broken heart, financial troubles, abandonment issues, etc. so why should they be any different from me? I have not been the best person toward other people in the past year for a million reasons, but I want to give them a more equal view, whether they deserve it or not.

At the end of the day we are all a disaster, a messy, complicated, dysfunctional disaster...hoping that no one notices.

Calm Soul

So I had the "pleasure" of flying across country yesterday to get stuck in an airport waiting 3 hours for a flight that was moved, cancelled and reinstated more times than I can count. I was at the airport so late that all the eating places closed and my stomach was aching from hunger. The remarkable part about all of this was the fact that other than a few uttered curse words I kept my cool. I ran from terminal to terminal with minimal pain or heavy breathing and didn't yell at anyone. Years ago this would have been a completely different story. Heck a year ago even. But I am so proud of myself for being so calm. It just makes me feel so unbelievably happy because now I am starting to see the changes and it only makes me want to strive for more. J is a very happy girl today.

Quitter

I guess you could say I have alot on my mind lately. LOL

So the last few days I have been doing alot of research on weight loss surgeries. I think I have finally made up my mind to go ahead and do it. I do have this feeling in the back of my head that I am being a quitter. That maybe one more go at Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig will help. But I am getting to a point where I am tired of the short breath and achy knee and hurt feelings when I look at clothes. I don't feel attractive lately and its a very new and very raw feeling for me. I don't like it at all. I have to admit the commercials are getting to me. I want to drop half my body weight in a matter of months. I want all the great things that will come my way. I don't know if this will fix it but I have enough information and insurance to give it go.

I'd write more but I am mentally and physically exhausted and I have to get up in the morning early. I'll add to this later.

Suicide and the Death Dance

I read a post on one of the BDSM websites I belong to about a man who had recently committed suicide. The comment was that "Nothing is ever that bad". I felt mildly irritated at the sentiment and realized I have my own suicide demons that still resonate within me years later. Often people will say that they didn't know or that things were not that bad and the person could have pushed through. They say they would have helped if they knew and each time I hear it I feel like I hear a ball of lies. As a person who has experience with suicide and suicide attempts I find it all to be a facade'. We know when they are feeling down. We see them curled up on the bed. We see them crying. We see them not eating. We see them hiding from friends and family. But we don't do anything. We want to continue with our happy existence. We don't want them to bring us down. We saw them die and we did nothing. I remember my own depression spells and they saw me. They can never say they didn't. The only difference was I survived. Twice. I still fight it from time to time and I know the warning signs immediately. I sometimes wonder if this is tied to my BDSM life. If there is a psychological need to be hit...to feel pain. It's soothing in a way I could never explain to a vanilla person and in a way I am not sure I would want to. When I am in my depressed moods all I want to do is "feel". Feel love....affection...safety...comfort. Perhaps that's all this gentleman wanted, was to feel. I don't know his story I only know my own. Sometimes it is that bad. Sometimes people get tired. They get weak. They hurt in ways that a flogger, knife, whip could never hurt them. Sometimes it IS just that fucking bad.
But what do we care?
We're still happy.

Right?

Til Death Do Us Part

Why is that when someone dies people often say "I wish I got the chance to tell him/her how I felt.." or "I never got the chance to say I love you"? Why do these statements keep coming up. Why haven't we learned to say what we feel, when we feel it? What are we afraid of? Part of me believes the dead can hear us. Hear the things we never got the chance to say to them. But I often wonder if they hear the other stuff...the things they were never suppose to hear. The deep, dark, ugly thoughts. It's been a curious thought as of late. I don't have an answer to that one.

I sent letters to everyone I wanted to tell how I feel. Some of the ones I was most looking forward to responses from I did not get but I feel at peace knowing that when the hour comes that death parts one of us from this life that I will never utter the words "I never got the chance" and will instead think "They never took the time to listen...but they hear them now: good, bad and ugly". I think that makes me square with myself and with my God.

Unpublished

So I have about 10 unpublished posts from the last year, for this blog and I have very seriously considered publishing them lately. I didn't publish them for one reason or another but most of those reasons are moot points at this stage in my life. Some ever make me uncomfortable to read but they were raw feelings written in the thick of feeling them. Some are just secrets that are no longer worth keeping. Many reasons, all moot. I have also considered moving this blog to livejournal or wordpress and having locked posts so those who I would want to read them can. Especially since I have become aware of my new "fan". (And yes I know you read my blogs) But then again I suppose the initial reason for having such would a blog would disappear. I could always just write in Word files. Ehh who knows. I don't write much here anyway. I am not feeling comfortable in my skin lately. Literally. I don't like my skin. I weigh myself almost daily. I hate the number I read. I mentioned to a friend the other day I don't dress up like I used to and I don't do my make up as much anymore and she agreed. It's one thing for me to notice it but for others to see such is inexcusable. I let someone talk me out of it before but this time I am doing it without talking to anyone about it until all the plans are set in motion. I am getting my surgery the beginning of 2011. Already making financial plans for it. Ohh and my braces. And hair treatments. No not comfortable in this skin at all. I am happy God saw fit to place me in a job with decent health benefits. There is nothing wrong that I can't fix. NOTHING. I should be asleep now but so much is running through my mind. I have a house to clean that looks like hell, clothes to pack of this trip and errands to run before Thursday. Man oh man...so much to do, so much to think about.

Beauty and Brains

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together." — Marilyn Monroe