4-30-2020 Journal

I feel like I'm drowning but not in the way I'm used to. I can breathe, actually better as if the air is just pure relaxing energy. But I'm flooded with it. There's this tingling in my limbs, but not from anxiety ... More like excitement maybe? I've always had a masochist's relationship with pain but I don't think I've ever looked so forward to it, not necessarily eager for pain; what I'm drawn to seems to have shifted a bit.

If I were normal, I'd panic thinking I'm being erased because all the reactions and emotions I'm familiar with are just kinda changing on me. But I'm not normal. I don't have much real me to erase so it almost seems like I'm gaining a me, if that makes a lick of sense. For so long as I can remember, I've just been a collection of what people told me I was. I barely had a congruent self though I guess my morals and values were mostly consistent, but those were the bare bones that made me a person. And any part of me that I deemed real, I hid. I felt I had to or I'd lose that part forever. It's been a strange life, being just a little too fluid to be real.

So I feel I'm finally gaining the building blocks I somehow never got growing up. It feels as weird as it feels exhilarating. It's scary too being I don't understand entirely what or how it's happening. My emotions are just all over the place, but mostly positive. That's another thing I'm not used to, card-carrying pessimist that I am. Anyway I hope I can look back on this writing in the future where I may have gained some understanding; just wanted a snapshot of my thoughts.

4-28-2020 Journal

When I'm hurting or anxious (which to me is a form of pain anyway), I aim to express myself. Repeatedly. Often, I lose the very loose hold I have on my social skills and there's not much give and take in my conversations. I'm fully aware, but haven't yet found a method for fixing it.

Due to this glitch of mine, as I call it, I don't hear other people as well assuming they can even get a word in edgewise. I don't feel my pain is greater or more important at all, I don't view anyone's pain as minor and I don't compete. I have that quality going for me, however, this glitch makes it appear that I absolutely think my pain reigns supreme. Or at least, I'd think that of another who freight trained me in a conversation. I hope others have more patience with me lol but I cannot expect it.

Since my anxiety has been through the roof, I've had several incidents where after a conversation, I feel horrible sitting in the knowledge that that person didn't feel heard. I'm working on it diligently, but in the meantime, it sucks that I have many friends in need of an ear and I'm just being an asshole.

I'm also watching a lot of fights and whatnot going on because both parties are struggling to be heard at the very same time. And I don't think they can stop themselves, if aware, any more than I've been able to. Bad things happen and to add the changes going on in the world in the background (or for some, the foreground), I just see terrible spirals coming soon. And it breaks my heart. And I don't think any one person is to blame in these incidents.

I just hope something clicks somewhere and someone is able to stand in line once in a while to stop the destruction that's on the horizon. Unfortunately, I know it's not likely to be me, I'm not going to be the superhero. There's people more capable of active listening and patience. And I hope they step up all over the world.

In the meantime, I'll be working on the issue myself in my own interactions the best I can.

4-27-2020 Journal

Why Emotional Sadomasochism is Healthy for Me

There are many situations we can find ourselves in where we clearly see we need to remove ourselves. People can point out the obvious to you all day every day and you'll still stare at the problem seemingly paralyzed. Then the reasoning comes, the excuses, etc. And if you're in a toxic or abusive situation, you do indeed cling to these reasons to stay for if you don't, someone else surely will beat you over the head with so many reasons that you forget why you wanted to leave. For a time.

The same process happens when we talk ourselves out of trying something, this fear of success can be just as crippling as the fear of possible failure. In the end, you stay still, never moving forward because that's scary shit. This process I speak of can disable anyone in any area of their life, often many areas, because we give way too large a stage to our fears and our excuses.

In an emotional scene, however, we are placed inside those fears and excuses are skillfully thwarted and we're then redirected back to face the fear. Yes, it's painful and draining. Yes, we may hate it in the moment. But we can't run from our emotions in the scene, we have to feel and in that we begin to dismantle the excuses and actually tackle the problems. Believe it or not, some people would say this kind of play is unhealthy.

It's no different than sitting in on a self help lecture other than you actually develop the skills to utilize the advice. Oh, and the erotic component. Pretty sure no self-help guru is making their audience aroused, but if ya know of one, hit me up with info. Anyway, these are beautiful and therapeutic scenes when done right. Just like any other type of play, there's risks and damage can be inflected, but to paint any play with a broad brush is akin to spreading misinformation.

There are going to be people who have engaged in a particular play and found it wasn't for them, or maybe they even feel damaged from it. That doesn't automatically mean the play is unhealthy or even the participants are. I personally find this type of play to be a godsend. It has worked in places that therapy and other support hasn't been able to reach. So keep an open mind and ask yourself questions whenever you read a piece damning these plays, be it emotional sadomasochism, blood play, rape play, hypnosis, or knife play. We all have unique, individual needs and wants and to differ doesn't mean something is immediately unhealthy.

4-26-2020 Journal

When you have someone cut right through your damage and shine a light on your soul, it makes the shadows others have placed inside you run. Thoughts you've thought about yourself fade away, and for a moment, you share your play partner's vision of you. It's a rare type of intimacy, for me anyway.

To follow him as he tests you and to pass when you feel like you're failing is painful and confusing but it lifts a weight off your heart. And, there will be sadness when I process and look at how much damage was there for years by looking at all the layers his lesson just sliced through, but that's okay. I can give that sadness a moment because it will be overridden by the indescribable joy knowing I'm that much closer to him. The joy knowing there's one less hurdle in my way towards him.

And then I realize I'm making several references to submission instead of using that word. Yeah, it dawns on me. But, I do submit. I don't feel this type of intimacy as a bottom, these scenes aren't merely scenes. But I'm not a submissive and I don't want to get carried away. It doesn't matter to me, I'm not fighting it but I'm not forcing it. Wherever the collection of beautiful moments takes us, as long as we walk together, that's what matters. For I've seen his leadership and his Dominance and his friendship cut through a lot of noise as he reaches into my true self, the vulnerable part and that honestly transcends labels for me.

It's going to be a wild journey for us both. Giggles.

Update:

The juxtaposition of our two styles is most apparent right now in the tender, caring way you scrap away the crap the world has piled on me versus how abrasive and cold I've been in the same task with others. Not only do I see how my style doesn't work but I'm drawn to that tenderness you show. That level of patience and concern and intimacy is, for lack of a better word, heartwarming. It seems to have caused a huge change in me and now I'm calmed down enough to learn and grow. At least some, I'm sure there's more to scrap away, but I have never seen such progress so quickly. It's a bit scary on one hand but I can tell I'm going to thrive and transform for you. And initially, I wasn't sure I wanted to, but now I know I do.

4-21-2020 Journal

exhales

How to even put things into words... I think I experienced a side of heaven today. Unexpected. Overwhelming. Intoxicating in its own right. Confusing. Peaceful and beautiful. But often, my feelings reveal themselves in images rather than words. The images don't always relate to what's going on but more of the feeling associated with it.

For example, I saw a beach and before it's assumed it's cliche, a beach is associated with a very specific memory. I don't generally relax. Like at all. The one time I distinctly relaxed was at a beach in Erie PA. I had my legs in the waves, sitting on the hot sand, the sun beaming down overhead, children nearby laughing as they splashed each other. That single moment, the tight knots of my trap muscles (shoulder/neck) actually physically let go. At first, relaxing actually hurt but as the muscles adjusted, I felt such peace hanging out on that beach. Never could recreate it no matter how many times I've revisited. So when I feel peace, I see that beach.

I also saw clouds, and a silhouette of a couple dancing. Dreamy things. Whimsical things. Surreal images of sunlight glistening through slow, fat rain drops. A melting candle overflowing the holder and dripping from all sides. The moment these images represent was magical for me, rare. And I'm grateful to have shared such a connection with @Devilogical. I'm grateful to have felt a little more like the old me, if that makes sense.

Sometimes, what both people need is just to cling to each other, to a moment created between them. And that's the best words I can find in the beautiful mess of my emotions.

4-15-2020 Journal

I've never uncovered my little side after a scene. It's always been pulled out of me differently and, usually, reluctantly. That side of me had been abandoned so coldly, I actually wasn't sure it was a true part of me anymore. Until today.

I've also never had someone take an ugly wall of mine and turn it into something else, something more manageable for me. I'm not even sure how that worked. The past issues are still there but distant and quiet, waiting until I'm ready to wade through them. Those issues no longer stand in the way of the connection I need so badly. At least, they didn't today, but I'm grateful for any reprieve. I'm grateful I got such a sweet gift unexpectedly.

A gift with many sides and angles. I don't see them all. I don't understand all that I do see either. That's okay. I don't always have to understand, in fact, I probably tend to understand less when I make analysis my focus. Sometimes a puzzle is figured out piece by piece and not solved in under an hour.

And sometimes, sadism doesn't only calm your masochism. It can do more if people are willing to allow it to work its magic

4-14-2020 Journal

Now I hunger for submission, to suffer sweetly, scraping my fangs against my tongue in hopes to sate myself for a night. Eyes searching the darkness on the horizon, pleading with the shadows to give my eyes a feast because I've been starving. The pit of my stomach kept gnawing on my soul in my exile and now, just skin and bones, the other monster is rising to kiss the moon and the stars.

I've been kneeling in wait, hidden in the corners of my mind wanting to join your presence once more. I couldn't find the path so I hid, tending to my wounds; waiting. You don't attempt to tame this beast inside of me at all, you bring all parts of me into your embrace, especially the secret parts. Intoxicated, I drink your energy so eagerly I choke but still can't stop myself guzzling every drop of pain you give to me.

And again I wait until I smell you prowling. I kiss the moon and stars once more and tell the moon not to wait up for me

4-7-2020 Journal

The Darkness is Calling. No matter what I do to escape, there's this shadow that follows me ready to pounce as soon as I'm exhausted again. I can never roam free for long, in fact, it's hot on my heels so I'm never truly free at all. It's more than a craving, an urge, an impulse; I have no name for it other than darkness.

It seeps into my pores, into my mouth as it opens to scream, and it paints my eyes in its hue. It finds me wherever I hide as easily as it finds me if I keep running without rest. It's always there, staring back at me when I dare to turn around. It replaced my own shadow long ago so it can hide in plain sight in front of others, but I'll always know what it really is.

The darkness caresses the monster, this beast within that I keep so tightly bound hidden inside of me. It beckons, it encourages the monster's mutany. The darkness swirls me and the monster together until we are one. I'm in danger of breaking out of containment once again.

It's calling, can you hear its voice whispering on the echoes of silence at night? I can. It's a waking nightmare. It's my dream. It's my reality.

4-5-2020 Fiction

Peacock

He certainly was an exhibitionist, falling over himself just begging to pose for me. He would coyly suggest all sorts of things he wanted to do but frame them as if the acts were humiliating to him. And maybe, a small part of him was indeed humiliated, but largely he was so aroused that his arousal overshadowed everything else.

"Dress up in your favorite lingerie, your best outfit, and send me a picture," I said. He obeyed eagerly and I saved the picture to my phone. He grinned in his purple set like a proud peacock and I smiled. A day later I began talking about generic things I may do to him.

Taking him to a salon for a make up lesson was a highlight. Then I casually mentioned how he should burn an outfit for me and I could sense his panic through the chat window. He gave platitudes about how he'd obey but, well, the sadist in me just wasn't satisfied with that.

"Offer me an alternative and save your pretty things," I offered. With gratitude, he suggested many more tasks that he'd obviously enjoy. I dug in and we finally settled on him fucking himself with a small plunger handle and sending me the video.

The next morning, I watched the video for entertainment and complimented him sincerely. I let him breathe a sign of relief and we talked sporadically throughout the day. The following day, I asked him if he remembered that the plunger was done instead of burning an outfit. I felt his reluctance to respond and the anxiety that followed, but he hadn't forgotten.

"Good," I said, "I'm going to have you burn one anyway." Silence for a long moment and confirmation he'd obey. I waited as I knew it'd be a good amount of time before he had the privacy to comply.

"Oh, and it has to be the favorite outfit. I still have the picture and I better be able to see that outfit clearly before it goes into the flames, understood?" There was a long pause, then reluctant confirmation. Then he asked what he'd done wrong.

"Absolutely nothing, my dear whore, this isn't discipline at all. It's just.. fun," I laughed.

Many hours later I asked him if he still thought he was prepared for the monster I am. Did he think the future pain and suffering would be worth it?

"Because this is me going easy on you," I explained, "this is the benign shit I have in store for you, whore."