Monday, December 28, 2015

Subpression and Vulnerability at its Best

I don't know what you call it, but that's what I'm going to call it.


I can only speak for what I've experienced...

There are different levels, much like depression.

Sometimes, it is merely hard to smile. Other times, it's hard to move, at all.

You might find that you can still stand up and get on with your day.

Then again, you might find yourself alone in the dark, on the bathroom floor, covered only with a towel, crying for much longer than you want to admit, because it hurts that bad. Crying for a million reasons (that continuously ricochet in your head like small metal pellets, doing absolutely no good whatsoever), but it's mostly because you fear that you are too much and not enough.

When I realized who I was When I realized what seed was inside me, the barriers, the layers upon layers of deadly protection started to fall. I have a (pointless) fear that I only have a shell of what I once had, and sometimes I kinda want it all back. I'm so happy, but life has come with a price, vulnerability.

Not only am I learning who I am (and how to be okay with who I am), but I'm learning to feel through vulnerability. Living  is amazing, to say the least, but it is hard and scary feeling with clarity after so many years of feeling through murk.

Everything, the good and bad, is magnified. I imagine it would be like someone who was color blind, seeing colors for the first time. Except that's the nice way to see it. You might also compare it to the difference between a needle pricking your finger and a dagger through the gut. The good is out of this world, but so is the bad.

So, with vulnerability has come subpression. And the best advice I have thus far, if you happen to find yourself in the mist or downpour of it, is to let yourself cry and (no matter how painful you might think it will be) continue to do things that feed your submission, do it because it makes you feel good. You already have enough reasons to beat yourself up, don't go throwing more on the plate.

So, yeah, subpression. It's real and it sucks.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Tell Me It's a Blogger Glitch

The blog is down eight followers in less than 24 hours.

Two in the last twenty minutes.

I'm trying really hard not to take it personally, but eight?

I've lost followers before -one here, one there-, it's to be expected.

But, fuck, eight?

Friday, December 18, 2015

The Monthly Fall

I'm beyond confused.

I just...

Don't understand.

I don't know if it's me. I don't know if it's him. I don't know if it's us.


I can't do it anymore.

Every month, I fall. Every month.

Okay, I only made it about six months back before I couldn't take it anymore. I know there have been many more falls...

The last fall was a bad one. Sometimes I can hold it together, this time I couldn't.

I can't handle it anymore. It shouldn't happen every effing month! It shouldn't, but it does.

It's not PMS. It's not a feather knocking me in the head or the wind blowing the wrong way.

There is more to the pattern, but I'm not going to talk about it. I'm too emotional and lacking other words, my judgment is cloudy.


I'm not doing anything that could lead to a fall.

Which is pretty much everything I love about D/s.

I wouldn't let him tie me up or use the cane.
When he mentioned the mess in the house, I told him he could pick it up.
When he told me to take my pants off, I told him I didn't want to and I didn't.
If he wanted to punish me, I wouldn't let him.

I do put on the collar every night and the plug in every day, but only because I don't want him to think I'm forcing his hand. I'm not defiant.

Basically, I'm starving my submission. I know it won't ever go away, but I can stomp it back down to a seed.

It's better than falling.

Yes, it is that bad.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Oh Yes, it's Going to be Good

I've been waiting an entire year and it's finally here, a time of blogger comradery by way of food...

The Great Online Cookie Exchange!

A huge thank you to Jz for hosting. Please, stop by her place to check out her recipe and give thanks, as this stuff takes time to put together (and she has to put up with people saying they will join, then saying they won't, only to find yet another email saying they're back in). Also, if you don't already follow her blog, I highly suggest you do, because she's awesome.

Just like the past two years, I've decided to veer you away from cookies. Not to minimize the importance of cookies and desserts by any means (I sure do love all things chocolate), it's just that I like to be different. You know, offer a little variety.

I have to admit, this was my first time making cranberry jalapeño salsa, however I have eaten it many times (it's my mom's recipe) so I already knew it was awesome.

I did not make it because I wanted to eat it. It is just really important that you have a picture.

It's good with pretzels, by the way.

And tortilla chips.

And chicken.

And turkey.

And if you feel like having a spoonful just because it's that good, I won't hold it against you.

Ahem. Anyway...

Cranberry Jalapeño Salsa

1 - 12oz bag of fresh cranberries
1 - bunch of green onions
1 - bunch of cilantro
2 or 3 - jalapeño peppers, seeded
Juice from one lime
Juice from one orange
3/4 Cup - Sugar
1 Tablespoon - olive oil

Chop the cranberries, onions, cilantro, and jalapeño peppers. Place them in a bowl with the rest of the ingredients and mix. You can eat it right away, but I highly recommend letting the salsa sit overnight.

Words of advice:
1. Do not try to chop the cranberries with a knife (but if you want to, go for it). My mom uses a food processor, I used a manual food chopper like this one.
2. If you are not big on sugar, I think 1/2 a cup would suffice.
3. This is a mild salsa, if you want it to be hot, leave some of the jalapeño seeds.
4. Adding a bit of orange and/or lime zest might be something to think about. (Kicking myself for not trying it out)

That's it. So easy. And so good!

Now, I know you are all itching to move on the to next recipe so here's the list. Have fun!

Monday, December 7, 2015

So, My Kids Have A Problem...

They don't think I should be able to lock the bathroom door.

I have to put my plug in everyday and, obviously, I can't do that in front of them.

I try to sneak off!

It doesn't work. Not ever.

The littlest will sit there (not quietly) the entire time...

"Mom! Mom! MOM!!! What are you doing?!" (Clearly, she knows I'm not just going to the bathroom.)

"Going to the bathroom, what do you need?"

"I need to show you a trick with my nose! Right NOW!" 

"I'm almost done, just hold on a second"


I wish I could say she doesn't bang on the door like it's the end of the world, the entire time.

Her trick was balancing a checker on her nose, in case you were wondering.
Well, they aren't missing out, but it is kinda fun... 
Ahhhhhh, the wonderful life of a mom slave.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Beautiful Acceptance

I think it is easy for us to misjudge and forget the weight of acceptance, all variations of acceptance. It undoubtably surrounds us, a lack of it (though a lack isn't always a bad thing) and a great importance for it.

Thinking back to darker days, I realize now that I never accepted my life or myself. I fought it with everything I had, until I was almost nothing. 

I refused to be broken by a monster. I refused to give him yet more power over me. I refused to accept the trauma of it.

By refusing to accept, I was doing the very thing I was trying to avoid.

Fact is:
I am not who I wanted to be. 
My life wasn't what I wanted and, despite what I told people, it wasn't okay.
I was broken by a monster. 
It was a great trauma that most definitely affected me and my decisions, for years.

I played the part I wanted to be and, after some practice, I believe that I did it well. 

The type of power exchange I want, the kind I need, requires deep honesty and openness. Through this I have come to realize these things.

His acceptance of me had to come first. 

Or, better yet, I had to accept the possibility that he could accept me for all that I am, for all that I am not, and all that my life was, before I could start to accept myself. 

As my true pieces were revealed and as they continue to unravel before my own eyes and his, I see that...

I am thankful that I am not who I wanted to be.
My life is not what I wanted, it is more.
My brokenness may have come from a vile beast, but it has made me a beautiful and unique creature.
Trauma has given me the opportunity to see the world through many different colors--some dark, some bright, but I'm thankful for them all just the same.

Acceptance is indeed powerful. Do not step over it lightly.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Is it Spring Yet?

I've wanted to write. I come here, start a post, and after some back and forth I delete it and move on. Mind you, I haven't had a lot of time to write. First it was pre-Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving, then PMS and not being sure of my feelings, followed by a misunderstanding, ending with life.

All in a week of Misty. ;)

PMS... I'm pretty sure my body is out to get me.

Misunderstanding... He thought I was purposefully not doing chores and acting like I was, to get punished. Hello, Thanksgiving and PMS. I cannot be held accountable for my actions while dealing with PMS (okay, maybe I can, but still). Yes, I could have been better behaved, but he had my motives all wrong. I didn't have a motive. Honest mistake. It is nice to know he won't put up with that kind of nonsense from me--pretty freakin' sexy, if you ask me.

Life... This week (is it over yet?) has been busy. I'm determined to manage my time better, so I dusted off the old schedule, revamped it, and I've been at it for about three days now. Forever, I know. Sure, it's too soon to tell how awesome I will be at getting it all done (ahem), but so far I'm holding up. The business is having a great week, which is a welcome surprise for this time of year, but it seems to have sucked all the energy out of us.

It is beyond cold here. We've lived here ten years now and I still haven't gotten used to it. Winter temperatures back home are a lot like spring temperatures here. My mom started to tell me that once it's cold, it all feels the same... I happen to know that -20 °F is nothing like 30 °F. I never knew air could be painful until I moved here. We have come close, but we haven't quite reached those low temperatures this year (or the past couple years), but if we keep going at this rate I'll be a Popsicle by the end of January. Not cool.

Well, I know when I start talking about the weather, it's time to go. :)

Oh, and don't forget about the cookie exchange coming up! If you want to join, email Jz soon!