Uncategorized

I’d Be Happy if…

I’ve made changes over the course of my life, not just recently, in search for happiness. I knew what wouldn’t make me happy (money, large house, nice car, etc.), nevertheless, I didn’t know what would make me happy, either. I just knew it was out there and I fucking wanted it. I found happy moments, I found things and people that made me feel good, I also found some peace along the way.

For the past few years, I have been doing this, “I’d be happy if…,” thing. You see, I want to live a particular kind of life. I have made so many changes over the last 6 years working towards making it happen. I’m obsessed with this shit. I think it is great that I have goals, that I have a plan, that I have something I am passionate about. I have spent so much of my life just trying to survive, that I didn’t have room to think about goals and the like, so this is a very good thing for me… it shows me that I am working on thriving instead of surviving.

Just a few months ago (maybe not even that long) I had a question slap me in the face. Will I be happy once my plan comes to fruition? Will I really be happy? Being honest with myself, I don’t think I will. I think I’ve been looking in the wrong places. I’ve been looking for people to make me happy… and I don’t think that is fair nor possible.

I have people in my life right now that make me smile and laugh. I have people that care about me and support me. I have a girl that likes it when I do mean things to her (and just hangout and watch tv with), how fucking awesome is that?! I even have someone that I want a future with and opened up to, which is… quite meaningful, to me. My kids are wonderfully unique and crazy. I have a house and car, a job that pays the bills. My life isn’t full of rainbows and magical unicorn poop, but it isn’t what it used to be. My life is good. It is good right now.

So, why am I not happy?

Why do I cry every fucking day?

Because I have wounds that haven’t healed.

That’s why.

What does this mean for my happiness?

It means I am responsible for it. It means I have work to do — I may spend the rest of my life battling demons for happiness. It means I need to hold on to the moments when I feel good, so when chaos rains I remember it won’t last forever.

Advertisements

A Shift that Destroyed My World so I Can Build a New One

I wrote a post the end of February 2015 (on my first blog, which is no longer active)…

What Must Be

I have realized this is something I must go through. I cannot go back and I cannot go around. All detours lead right back here. Stopping is no longer an option. Forward is the the only way.

The barricade is tall, thick, and much stronger than I.

I know this because I built it to be indestructible.

There is no path to guide my way through. No light to shine the way. No maps or “How To…” books.

Unnavigable.

Which is how I wanted it.

This barrier made it so that I could only hear incomprehensible whispers from the monsters that slither through my mind, which left me free to ignore them. A wonderful side effect. However, it blocked out much more than their voices. A trade I didn’t know I was making. Though, had I known, I might have still made it.

Each layer that has come crashing down, brings back more of what was lost.

More history.

More demons.

More love.

More anger.

More life.

More hate.

More me.

There is more left, lurking within the parts that haven’t fallen–feared unknowns waiting their turn to expose and heal.

What lies beyond is the mystery I fear the most. What will it be like? Will I be strong enough to handle it? Will it be someone that he can love? Will it hurt?

I know not how far I have come, nor how far I have left or where I will end, I only know that I must go through.


I was in a really difficult place when I wrote that. I remember the history that inspired it, the fear, how alone I felt, and tears that were shed. Yet, I was so determined to keep going. I opened a door that let the chaos back in, along with life, and I don’t regret it one little bit.

Here I am four years later and I have come so far. Although the same message applies (except for the “Will it be someone he can love?” part), I am no longer the woman who wrote that.

A mere four years. Most of the change happened within the last two years.

The foundation of who I was and the life I lived, crumbled, like an earthquake of great magnitude happened within me. And I was left with a disaster. Fragments of myself I no longer wanted. Pieces of a life I could no longer live, but morned. I was in a world I didn’t recognize, living in a body that did not feel like my own.

It has been so fucking painful.

And I am so fucking thankful.

I have had to look at some shitty parts of myself – my behaviors that are beneath me and my beliefs, my choices that had significant negative impacts on me, victimizing myself when I was not a victim and what damaged that caused, the list goes on and on- and I think it broke me in the best way possible.

I have dug deep to find the core pieces of my damage. I found some that I have blinded myself to, for far too long.

My hands hurt, my soul is banged up, my mind is a mixture of chaos and rational thoughts. I’m still going. And I’m never going to give up.

Because I am fucking hardheaded.

I am thankful for the events that helped me see and break down what wasn’t serving me in a positive way, no matter how painful they were. I am thankful for the ones that will happen in the future.

I am thankful I am not someone who lets life defeat me, but someone who takes the pain and does something with it.

I am beyond thankful I have not been completely alone and that I am loved.

Now, I rebuild. This time, I have more wisdom and life experience, and you can bet your ass I’m going to do something with it.

It’s All About the Lyrics

Not a huge fan of the video, but thought I’d share anyway.


Handwritten

The Gaslight Anthem

Pull it out, turn it up, what’s your favorite song?
That’s mine, I’ve been crying to it since I was young
I know there’s someone out there feeling just like I feel
I know they’re waiting up, I know they’re waiting to heal
And I’ve been holding my breath
Are you holding your breath
For too many years to count?
Too many years to count

And we waited for the sirens that never come
And we only write by the moon
Every word handwritten
And to ease the loss of youth
And how many years I’ve missed you
Pages plead forgiveness
Every word handwritten

Let it out, let me in, take a hold of my hand
There’s nothing like another soul that’s been cut up the same
And did you want to drive without a word in between?
I can understand, you need a minute to breathe
And to sew up the seams after all this defeat
All this defeat

And we waited for the sirens that never come
And we only write by the moon
Every word handwritten
And to ease the loss of youth
And the many, many years I’ve missed you
Pages plead forgiveness
Every word handwritten

Here in the dark, I cherish the moonlight
I’m in love with the way you’re in love with the night
And it travels from heart to limb to pen

And we waited for the sirens that never come
And we only write by the moon
Every word handwritten
Every word handwritten

And with this pen, I thee wed
From my heart to your distress

Every word handwrittenSongwriters: BRIAN FALLONĀ© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Continuing to Define My Domme Side

I continually try to pick myself apart. What do I like? Why do I like that? Why don’t I like that? How did that make me feel? Where the hell did this woman come from, I know I wasn’t her a year ago… or was she there, just dormant? What other facets are part of my whole?

I need to know these things!!

Aside from my sadistic tendencies, I’m pretty sure being in control is also a big one for me– it could be a bigger part than my sadistic side, I really don’t know at this point.

I like having things my way. I like making them my way. I want to be in control, damnit!!!!! Like, thinking about my sub having certain freedoms, kinda feels like someone sandpapering my brain. It is not cool. Thinking about controlling my sub, as little as telling them what name to address me as, kinda feels wearing and petting my fur collars, or slipping into a warm bath. It does good things for my brain.

In some cases, I have found it is extremely difficult to not let this side of me surface. I know that certain things need to be in place before control is turned up a notch (or turned on at all), and when it is turned up, other things need to be in place before it is turned up again. Nevertheless, not having control makes the Domme in me restless and, sometimes, quite upset. I’m not sure if it is my ego or if there is something else going on, I just know I don’t know how to process it, yet.

I feel like control is what makes D/s (or M/s) sustainable — sadism can only take it so far. But, I romanticize control so maybe my view is a little biased…

A Safe Place

It is extremely important to me to be a safe place for those I call mine. I want them to have the space to be themselves around me — the good, bad, and kinks/fetishes. I am really good at accepting people because it makes me feel good, it builds me up. When I call someone mine, I want the whole package, right down to their soul. I want them to come to me with their problems and fears. I want to know what makes them smile during the day and what brings them happiness. I want them to feel safe being open and vulnerable with me. That is part of my package.

When I can’t be that, it somehow takes away from my dominance.

It helps me to feel needed.

I NEED to be needed.

Maybe, in a way, it makes it easier for me to accept my sadistic side? A fair trade, of sorts? Or maybe it isn’t that at all… maybe it simply gives me confidence and a foundation to stand on.

I was told I am abusive.

I was not a safe place for them.

I was also told that I am not a good friend.

All from the same person.

Being told I am abusive has really done a number on me. It has been a fear of mine since I realized I had a sadistic side. I like being mean… I love being mean. And, because that darkness resides in me, I fear coming off as abusive in an unhealthy way.

I will not be my dad.

So, I broke it off with them.

It was a short lived relationship.

I tried.

I really tried.

And, I failed.

It was a learning experience, so at least there’s that.

I am incredibly thankful for the people in my life that assured me of what I am and what I am not. I have a feeling I would have had a much harder time, if it wasn’t for them.

(For those who are wondering, I still have the girl I mentioned here and the boy I wrote about here–they are two of the people that helped me through this mess.)

End of Year (Life) Reflection

This year has been some kind of personalized hell.

Seriously, I’m pretty sure a higher power decided that 2017 wasn’t hard enough and, ya’ know, why not add some more logs to the fire? What doesn’t kill us…

I am ready to put this year behind me.

I am ready for a lot of things.

I’m ready to be done with some stupid and/or shitty people. I’m ready to deepen my relationships with people that aren’t stupid and/or shitty (thank goodness for them!!). I’m ready to start living and not just surviving.

Mostly, I’m ready to feel good.

That is going to be my goal for 2019.

Feel good.

Throw more logs on the fire, I don’t care. If there is one thing life has taught me it is that I can weather most kinds of hell and come out on the other side with a smile. It is about time I learn to smile while in the flames.

I got this.