I wrote around the beginning of the month about Stephanie, a new alter. She came out rather unexpectedly one night, and the sense we got is that she would be temporary. Why, I don't know. But that's what she told Boss. So it's been nearly a month, and she's still here. We've seen her emerge a few times, and we've learned more about who she is. But not really why she is.
There was a theory when she first showed up that she existed to work through crippling fear and indecision, become stronger, and then merge into Cherish so that Cherish wouldn't be so crippled by her own fears. We've reversed that theory now. Now we think she may have been removed from Cherish, taking away the fear. Cherish has become calmer and more serene, even coming out on purpose a couple of times. And she is more confident in Boss's possession of her. She isn't afraid that he will get rid of her for any little slight, and she is quicker to accept that he may really value her for who and how she is. She has learned that, though she doesn't do very well serving him in a house-servant kind of way, she serves him by calming him when he's unsettled. She is his peace.
Stephanie is also slave to Boss, but not in the way that Cherish is slave. Cherish belongs to him heart and soul and could never imagine belonging to anyone else. If he dismissed her, she would come crawling back to him, begging to continue serving him. Stephanie belongs to whomever bought her and that just happens to be him. She is his property, no more so than the chair he sits in. She doesn't love Boss, only fears him.
I can see Stephanie clearly, too, now. She's twelve; tall for her age and gangly with puberty. Her tight-curled hair is cut short and pulled back into a bun at the back of her head, where it frizzes out. She's got bruises and cuts, and holds her left arm awkwardly - it's been injured at some point, and healed poorly. She's of mixed race, with that awkward beauty that many mixed kids have.
Like Paul, Stephanie came with her own 'creation image'. Apparently I read too many books as a child that imprinted on me, or something. Imagine it's the 1850's. It's evening, and it's raining. A man walks down the street, dragging a little mulatto slave girl beside him, clutching one arm. Whereas he has a nice water-repelling black overcoat, she's soaking wet in her thin cotton gown. His boots splash in the mud; she drags her bare brown feet through it. The man reaches a street corner and stops in front of another man. He yanks on the girl's arm, sending her stumbling forward to fall at the second man's feet. "There, she's yourn," he says. Accepting a small bag of coin from the stranger, he turns back the way he came, leaving the girl with the stranger.
I can see the image in my mind as I write. I can hear the man's voice, hear the rain splattering in the mud, even describe the cut of the big man's overcoat. I don't understand how these images are in my head, but there they are. Some multiples subscribe to a theory that alters are souls that have lost their bodies and come to live in another's mind. I'm too practical to believe such things, but there are days that I wonder if I might be looking at it all wrong...
--from Gracelyn:--
I find it interesting that it is raining in that mental picture. Stephanie comes out when called out by Boss, or on her own when there is water involved. Her initial presentation occurred when we were taking a long bath. We began to doze in the hot water, and then found ourselves unable to make a choice to get up and out of the water. Again this weekend, there was an episode with water. Boss found us sitting down in the shower (because our feet hurt?), letting the water pour down onto our head. Stephanie turned her head back and forth, listening to the way the drops sounded as they hit our ears. When Boss touched us, she was jerked back to an awareness of the world, but immediately tuned him, and it, out when he ceased touching us. Stephanie only speaks when spoken to, and then has to concentrate on it. I suspect that she may rate rather high somewhere on the autistic scale. Her connection to reality is tenuous, at best. I will be doing some research on the condition.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Working Through Anger [Sam?]
I'm working on dealing with some anger over something that should be small, yet my mind keeps returning to it again and again. I'm hoping that writing about it here will help me deal with it.
Background. I am allergic to animals. Like' take a pill everyday, and never pet an animal because my eyes will swell up and my nose will explode, and keep an inhaler in my purse and in my room just in case' kind of allergic to animals. My metamour has a dog and two cats. And they were the main point of negotiation about whether or not I could move in with them last spring.
The dog is not a problem; she is short-haired, and uses a puppy-pad to do her business. Unfortunately, she's decided that whenever I come home is the perfect time to poop, and her pads are near my computer, so I seem to always smell dog poop. The cats, however, are another matter. The female one is just a brat. She tears up carpet and insists on sitting in my computer chair when I'm not in it, and she loves to play in the litterbox, flinging litter everywhere. Again, not a huge allergy issue; she and I have agreed that we don't like each other but can live together. The male cat, however... He's old, and retarded, and spoiled. So he prefers to pee in front of my bedroom door and poop in the living room. He gets mad when I put my purse where it belongs, because he wants to lay there. And he's very vocal about it.
The apartment smells like cat piss, and it's his fault. The air burns my eyes and throat if I'm in the living areas too long. Watching a movie means an allergy attack before it's over, because the couches I bought are cat-spaces. I tried keeping sheets over the couches when I first got them, but since I was the only one doing so, it didn't take. So the couches are becoming unfriendly places for me to sit. But I can't sit on the floor - the one time I spent a little while on the floor, the skin on my legs started burning and swelling - cat piss and cat hair. Soon, I'll probably have to do what I do at my sister's house (where there are numerous dogs) - sit in a kitchen chair away from the regular furniture - end of snuggling time.
Most of the time, taking my allergy medicine regularly means I can handle all this, with the occasional shot from an inhaler. Without an animal in the house, I would probably never need an inhaler, and might not even need the meds. But I knew this when I decided to move in with my love and his other girlfriend; she has animals, and that's the way it is. I accepted it. But I argued strenuously that I had to have my own room. And there would be NO ANIMALS IN MY ROOM. Ever. Upon pain of water spraying, kicking animals, and throwing fits. I need to have a space that's as animal-free as possible. I keep my door shut 99% of the time, and run an air purifier 24-7. I hate the white noise from it because it further isolates me, but I need it. When I do laundry, it all goes directly to my room to minimize the time spent exposed to animal fur. Or vengeful peeing cats.
There are drawbacks to keeping my room secluded. If I'm in my room, I'm isolated. I can't participate in what's going on in the next room because I have to shut the door. Sometimes it builds a sense of claustrophobia. In a perfect world, my home would have no doors except the bathroom, and even that wouldn't always get used. I don't like separation. But there are animals in the house.
So the other night, we were discussing something unrelated, and my metamour drops a mention that sometimes she goes to my bathroom instead of the main one, for some reason. I can't really think of any good reason for her to do so, except for the rare rare occasion that Maintenance is doing something in hers? But regardless, for some reason, she occasionally uses my bathroom. That's mildly annoying, but acceptable. But then she says that when she does so, she brings the cat in with her and lets him run around in my closet.
I'm sorry, what? What part of NO ANIMALS IN MY ROOM didn't get through? Her excuse is that he stays on the floor, so no cat hair is getting on my clothes. Wait, you've had a cat for how long? When a cat walks into a room, every piece of clothing in the room instantly has cat hair on it - there is no direct contact necessary. I do all kinds of things to keep the animals from having an impact on my personal space, and she's bringing one of them into my room. And not just any of them, she's bringing the male cat - the one that's such a problem for me anyway.
When she said that, I made it clear that this is to stop. I looked her in the eye, and said "No animals in my room. Period. I don't care why." She started to argue; I repeated it. She shut up about it. But here's the thing - I have no way to know if she obeys the rule. And when it comes to spoiling that cat, like by not forcing it to be traumatically separated from her for the amount of time it takes for her to go to the bathroom, she doesn't tend to follow rules very well. Oh, and remember, she's multiple, too. So even if most of her alters are fine following that rule, the one that hopelessly lets the cat run all over her probably won't. And I'm not sure if she's the one I made it clear to that there are no animals allowed into my space.
So here it is a few days later, and I'm still angry about this. I feel powerless to enforce it; that's why I'm angry, I know. Would it be too much to print up a 'No Animals' sign and put at my door? That would probably hurt some feelings, but I'm not sure I care right now. And if she wants to ignore it when I'm not home, she can. It's not a matter of not remembering that the cats aren't allowed in there, it's a matter of not respecting that rule. Not respecting me.
Ding-ding-ding - there's the reason for the angry. She is disrespecting me by ignoring one of the few rules I have required in our household. There are plenty regarding her - keeping the lights off all the damned time so that it feels like I'm being smothered in a cave all the time. Keeping quiet during all hours of the day because she sleeps during the day and is up at night. Being uber-respectful of the needs put on her by her poor health. But I ask for one thing - leave my room clear - and she just disregards that entirely. I work very hard to be respectful of her, and I feel like it's not being reciprocated.
So what do I do about it? Well, I vent here, to make me feel better. And then, I don't know. Well, I need to wrap this up, my eyes are starting to burn, so it's time for me to retreat to my room for a while. And besides, the female cat is yarking up all over the living room carpet. I'm not cleaning it up. Gross.
Background. I am allergic to animals. Like' take a pill everyday, and never pet an animal because my eyes will swell up and my nose will explode, and keep an inhaler in my purse and in my room just in case' kind of allergic to animals. My metamour has a dog and two cats. And they were the main point of negotiation about whether or not I could move in with them last spring.
The dog is not a problem; she is short-haired, and uses a puppy-pad to do her business. Unfortunately, she's decided that whenever I come home is the perfect time to poop, and her pads are near my computer, so I seem to always smell dog poop. The cats, however, are another matter. The female one is just a brat. She tears up carpet and insists on sitting in my computer chair when I'm not in it, and she loves to play in the litterbox, flinging litter everywhere. Again, not a huge allergy issue; she and I have agreed that we don't like each other but can live together. The male cat, however... He's old, and retarded, and spoiled. So he prefers to pee in front of my bedroom door and poop in the living room. He gets mad when I put my purse where it belongs, because he wants to lay there. And he's very vocal about it.
The apartment smells like cat piss, and it's his fault. The air burns my eyes and throat if I'm in the living areas too long. Watching a movie means an allergy attack before it's over, because the couches I bought are cat-spaces. I tried keeping sheets over the couches when I first got them, but since I was the only one doing so, it didn't take. So the couches are becoming unfriendly places for me to sit. But I can't sit on the floor - the one time I spent a little while on the floor, the skin on my legs started burning and swelling - cat piss and cat hair. Soon, I'll probably have to do what I do at my sister's house (where there are numerous dogs) - sit in a kitchen chair away from the regular furniture - end of snuggling time.
Most of the time, taking my allergy medicine regularly means I can handle all this, with the occasional shot from an inhaler. Without an animal in the house, I would probably never need an inhaler, and might not even need the meds. But I knew this when I decided to move in with my love and his other girlfriend; she has animals, and that's the way it is. I accepted it. But I argued strenuously that I had to have my own room. And there would be NO ANIMALS IN MY ROOM. Ever. Upon pain of water spraying, kicking animals, and throwing fits. I need to have a space that's as animal-free as possible. I keep my door shut 99% of the time, and run an air purifier 24-7. I hate the white noise from it because it further isolates me, but I need it. When I do laundry, it all goes directly to my room to minimize the time spent exposed to animal fur. Or vengeful peeing cats.
There are drawbacks to keeping my room secluded. If I'm in my room, I'm isolated. I can't participate in what's going on in the next room because I have to shut the door. Sometimes it builds a sense of claustrophobia. In a perfect world, my home would have no doors except the bathroom, and even that wouldn't always get used. I don't like separation. But there are animals in the house.
So the other night, we were discussing something unrelated, and my metamour drops a mention that sometimes she goes to my bathroom instead of the main one, for some reason. I can't really think of any good reason for her to do so, except for the rare rare occasion that Maintenance is doing something in hers? But regardless, for some reason, she occasionally uses my bathroom. That's mildly annoying, but acceptable. But then she says that when she does so, she brings the cat in with her and lets him run around in my closet.
I'm sorry, what? What part of NO ANIMALS IN MY ROOM didn't get through? Her excuse is that he stays on the floor, so no cat hair is getting on my clothes. Wait, you've had a cat for how long? When a cat walks into a room, every piece of clothing in the room instantly has cat hair on it - there is no direct contact necessary. I do all kinds of things to keep the animals from having an impact on my personal space, and she's bringing one of them into my room. And not just any of them, she's bringing the male cat - the one that's such a problem for me anyway.
When she said that, I made it clear that this is to stop. I looked her in the eye, and said "No animals in my room. Period. I don't care why." She started to argue; I repeated it. She shut up about it. But here's the thing - I have no way to know if she obeys the rule. And when it comes to spoiling that cat, like by not forcing it to be traumatically separated from her for the amount of time it takes for her to go to the bathroom, she doesn't tend to follow rules very well. Oh, and remember, she's multiple, too. So even if most of her alters are fine following that rule, the one that hopelessly lets the cat run all over her probably won't. And I'm not sure if she's the one I made it clear to that there are no animals allowed into my space.
So here it is a few days later, and I'm still angry about this. I feel powerless to enforce it; that's why I'm angry, I know. Would it be too much to print up a 'No Animals' sign and put at my door? That would probably hurt some feelings, but I'm not sure I care right now. And if she wants to ignore it when I'm not home, she can. It's not a matter of not remembering that the cats aren't allowed in there, it's a matter of not respecting that rule. Not respecting me.
Ding-ding-ding - there's the reason for the angry. She is disrespecting me by ignoring one of the few rules I have required in our household. There are plenty regarding her - keeping the lights off all the damned time so that it feels like I'm being smothered in a cave all the time. Keeping quiet during all hours of the day because she sleeps during the day and is up at night. Being uber-respectful of the needs put on her by her poor health. But I ask for one thing - leave my room clear - and she just disregards that entirely. I work very hard to be respectful of her, and I feel like it's not being reciprocated.
So what do I do about it? Well, I vent here, to make me feel better. And then, I don't know. Well, I need to wrap this up, my eyes are starting to burn, so it's time for me to retreat to my room for a while. And besides, the female cat is yarking up all over the living room carpet. I'm not cleaning it up. Gross.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Feeling Better [Me]
The depression seems to have been headed off. Last weekend I did get some really great playtime in, and Sunday we made some good progress on finishing the deck/storage building. It has a roof and walls complete. We need stairs to the deck part and a door on the storage part. We haven't had any major mental crashes since the weekend, and life is looking pretty rosy for the moment again.
I've talked to my daughter a couple of times, and I need to brag on her again. By the way, she's now starting to read my blog. I refuse to let that color what I write, but sometimes there's a twinge of related discomfort. But she's a big girl, and if she runs up on something she doesn't want to know about her momma, she'll skip over it. But the bragging. She was trying to come up with a topic for her group project in Psych 101 class, and she asked me if I was okay with her doing something on DID. Now, I thought that was cool. Not only that she wants to understand more about DID, but that she's aware enough to ask me if I was okay with that. So I sent her a whole bunch of links to information about DID, along with this blog address. Unfortunately, the teacher turned down her project proposal because DID isn't mentioned in her intro psych book - not even in the abnormal psych chapter. I'm thinking, hey, it's in the DSM-IV, shouldn't that be enough? But no, not this time. However, she decided to do a different project related to DID - she's looking at choreographing a dance about it. I love how creative she is, and how thoughtful she is in not only trying to understand us better, but in checking to be sure we're okay with it. When we talk on the phone, she almost always has a question about some preference one of the alters has or how some part of our system works.
I've been doing some more writing, or at least focusing a little more on writing I've already done. I'm really glad I threw all my writing into a blog, but a little nervous about some of the things on there. I can see people being greatly discomforted by some of it, even after the warning I start with. It's rough, or at least I see it as pretty harsh rough reading. But it's not like I'm twisting anyone's arm to read it. Paul even okay'd putting his original memory up there. I kind of hope he'll write some more.
Speaking of Paul - he seems to be back to normal, now. But last week he came out one day completely reset, without the memories of who he's been. It was very strange. Also last week, we had ordered for him a bootblack box - the kind with the little foot pedal on top, and it came in yesterday. But he was out last night and the night before back to his normal unruffled self.
Kiara's been out and less unhappy too. She got some new bitey-toys, some puppy pacifiers, that seem to be a hit. And we have orange push-pop ice cream in the house for her. A month ago or thereabouts, she was peeking in the freezer at the ice cream we have. There were fudge pops, that Paul likes, and ice cream sandwiches, that I like. And she looked very seriously at Boss and asked why don't we have ice cream for her. He told her he would get her some if she put it on the grocery list, and it just blew her mind. Somehow it had never occurred to her that she could put something on the grocery list just for her. So she did, and sure enough, we have push-pops now. She hasn't had any yet, but knowing we have them is pretty impressive to her.
Lately, I know I've been blogging a lot more about day-to-day events in my life than about the experience of being multiple. I know, it's a blog, and day-to-day is what a blog is about. But I also want to cover a lot more about the experience of being multiple. So, readers, if you have a suggested topic, let me know. Even better, go up to the tab above that says 'Who's Reading?' and tell me about yourself, and suggest topics there.
I've talked to my daughter a couple of times, and I need to brag on her again. By the way, she's now starting to read my blog. I refuse to let that color what I write, but sometimes there's a twinge of related discomfort. But she's a big girl, and if she runs up on something she doesn't want to know about her momma, she'll skip over it. But the bragging. She was trying to come up with a topic for her group project in Psych 101 class, and she asked me if I was okay with her doing something on DID. Now, I thought that was cool. Not only that she wants to understand more about DID, but that she's aware enough to ask me if I was okay with that. So I sent her a whole bunch of links to information about DID, along with this blog address. Unfortunately, the teacher turned down her project proposal because DID isn't mentioned in her intro psych book - not even in the abnormal psych chapter. I'm thinking, hey, it's in the DSM-IV, shouldn't that be enough? But no, not this time. However, she decided to do a different project related to DID - she's looking at choreographing a dance about it. I love how creative she is, and how thoughtful she is in not only trying to understand us better, but in checking to be sure we're okay with it. When we talk on the phone, she almost always has a question about some preference one of the alters has or how some part of our system works.
I've been doing some more writing, or at least focusing a little more on writing I've already done. I'm really glad I threw all my writing into a blog, but a little nervous about some of the things on there. I can see people being greatly discomforted by some of it, even after the warning I start with. It's rough, or at least I see it as pretty harsh rough reading. But it's not like I'm twisting anyone's arm to read it. Paul even okay'd putting his original memory up there. I kind of hope he'll write some more.
Speaking of Paul - he seems to be back to normal, now. But last week he came out one day completely reset, without the memories of who he's been. It was very strange. Also last week, we had ordered for him a bootblack box - the kind with the little foot pedal on top, and it came in yesterday. But he was out last night and the night before back to his normal unruffled self.
Kiara's been out and less unhappy too. She got some new bitey-toys, some puppy pacifiers, that seem to be a hit. And we have orange push-pop ice cream in the house for her. A month ago or thereabouts, she was peeking in the freezer at the ice cream we have. There were fudge pops, that Paul likes, and ice cream sandwiches, that I like. And she looked very seriously at Boss and asked why don't we have ice cream for her. He told her he would get her some if she put it on the grocery list, and it just blew her mind. Somehow it had never occurred to her that she could put something on the grocery list just for her. So she did, and sure enough, we have push-pops now. She hasn't had any yet, but knowing we have them is pretty impressive to her.
Lately, I know I've been blogging a lot more about day-to-day events in my life than about the experience of being multiple. I know, it's a blog, and day-to-day is what a blog is about. But I also want to cover a lot more about the experience of being multiple. So, readers, if you have a suggested topic, let me know. Even better, go up to the tab above that says 'Who's Reading?' and tell me about yourself, and suggest topics there.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Seesaw Emotions [Me]
Last weekend was really rough. And Monday and Tuesday, I was still feeling pretty uncomfortable.
Tuesday night, we got together with someone who is new to recognizing that she's multiple, and new to exploring kink. And she had questions. My word, did she have questions. We spent two hours answering her questions, and she was very excited and sparkly in spirit. And we went home feeling very positive. At bedtime, Kiara was out and asked Boss to wrap her up in a sheet. She likes the comfort-feeling of bondage, whether rope or cloth or whatever. Rachel came out and tickled and teased and played with her a little, and we stayed wrapped up until we fell asleep.
So yesterday morning I woke up feeling a good bit better, feeling reasonably positive. We got one blog post written about being bald that's been on our 'ideas list' for a while, and got some ideas for some fiction writing detailed out a little bit more. So we were feeling pretty good. Work was pretty slow, and we read most of Hunger Games, and finished it. Kiara was out at suppertime and watched United States of Tara with Boss.
And then we went to bed, and fell apart again. To the point that Boss asked, this morning, why we were so upset with him. And we are upset with him, a little, but not really. We're upset. And that means that we're over-sensitive about things and get upset with him about stuff we normally wouldn't.
There's a lot of little things bothering me. We haven't had sex - not really - since the weekend. And since I pretty much lost the weekend, that means it's really been a while for me. I haven't had a good beating in nearly two weeks, and that always makes me jumpy. Sam's bored, which is not a good thing. And Rubi's been eyeing the scalpels again, about ready to entertain herself, since no one else is. Having both of the kids acting out is really stressful - Kiara used to be my destressor; her being unhappy really aches. I'm feeling rather un-useful at work. The deckwork at the house is incomplete and been sitting for over a week with no progress. The roof work is going to be an ordeal. I haven't gotten to really chat with my Mommy for a few weeks; we've been playing phone tag. With my metamour healing and grieving, and that making the Boss tense, I catch their tension and echo it. I have people that I care about and haven't been able to see in several weeks.
I am headed for a depression. I recognize that it's coming, and I hope I can head it off. Hopefully this weekend will have good play and fun sex and lot of socializing with people that are important to me. That will help.
And it's not as if there's nothing good going on in my life. Finally, for the first time in a very long time, I'm not terribly worried about money. I'm making more now where I am than my last job, and my spending has not quite caught up to that. My tenants are paying enough rent to make the house pay for itself. And even if something catastrophic happened, I'm not the only breadwinner in the household. I haven't had that - ever - in my adult life. And my daughter, oh my daughter makes me happy. I just got off the phone with her after a long chat. She's doing great at school and she's happy. She knows about my kink and poly and multiplicity, and she accepts them all happily. In fact, she wants to do a project at school about my being multiple, and asked if it was okay to take me as her example. I feel great about that, and I'm about to send her a lot of information. The educational classes I teach, Dungeon 101 and Kink 101, are doing well. Kink 101 is a new class that I've only taught once, but there are some opportunities on the horizon for them. I have been flirting with someone that could turn out to be a casual relationship for me. I would like that a lot. So there are good things going on. I just need to get past this depressive dip to enjoy them.
Tuesday night, we got together with someone who is new to recognizing that she's multiple, and new to exploring kink. And she had questions. My word, did she have questions. We spent two hours answering her questions, and she was very excited and sparkly in spirit. And we went home feeling very positive. At bedtime, Kiara was out and asked Boss to wrap her up in a sheet. She likes the comfort-feeling of bondage, whether rope or cloth or whatever. Rachel came out and tickled and teased and played with her a little, and we stayed wrapped up until we fell asleep.
So yesterday morning I woke up feeling a good bit better, feeling reasonably positive. We got one blog post written about being bald that's been on our 'ideas list' for a while, and got some ideas for some fiction writing detailed out a little bit more. So we were feeling pretty good. Work was pretty slow, and we read most of Hunger Games, and finished it. Kiara was out at suppertime and watched United States of Tara with Boss.
And then we went to bed, and fell apart again. To the point that Boss asked, this morning, why we were so upset with him. And we are upset with him, a little, but not really. We're upset. And that means that we're over-sensitive about things and get upset with him about stuff we normally wouldn't.
There's a lot of little things bothering me. We haven't had sex - not really - since the weekend. And since I pretty much lost the weekend, that means it's really been a while for me. I haven't had a good beating in nearly two weeks, and that always makes me jumpy. Sam's bored, which is not a good thing. And Rubi's been eyeing the scalpels again, about ready to entertain herself, since no one else is. Having both of the kids acting out is really stressful - Kiara used to be my destressor; her being unhappy really aches. I'm feeling rather un-useful at work. The deckwork at the house is incomplete and been sitting for over a week with no progress. The roof work is going to be an ordeal. I haven't gotten to really chat with my Mommy for a few weeks; we've been playing phone tag. With my metamour healing and grieving, and that making the Boss tense, I catch their tension and echo it. I have people that I care about and haven't been able to see in several weeks.
I am headed for a depression. I recognize that it's coming, and I hope I can head it off. Hopefully this weekend will have good play and fun sex and lot of socializing with people that are important to me. That will help.
And it's not as if there's nothing good going on in my life. Finally, for the first time in a very long time, I'm not terribly worried about money. I'm making more now where I am than my last job, and my spending has not quite caught up to that. My tenants are paying enough rent to make the house pay for itself. And even if something catastrophic happened, I'm not the only breadwinner in the household. I haven't had that - ever - in my adult life. And my daughter, oh my daughter makes me happy. I just got off the phone with her after a long chat. She's doing great at school and she's happy. She knows about my kink and poly and multiplicity, and she accepts them all happily. In fact, she wants to do a project at school about my being multiple, and asked if it was okay to take me as her example. I feel great about that, and I'm about to send her a lot of information. The educational classes I teach, Dungeon 101 and Kink 101, are doing well. Kink 101 is a new class that I've only taught once, but there are some opportunities on the horizon for them. I have been flirting with someone that could turn out to be a casual relationship for me. I would like that a lot. So there are good things going on. I just need to get past this depressive dip to enjoy them.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
The Joys of Being Bald [Me]
A little over a year ago, I was preparing to work in an haunted house, and on a whim, I asked the costume designer, "What if I shaved my head?" Her eyes got huge and filled with glee, then she dragged me quickly across the space to the director, already taking off on a tangent and planning how to make me as androgynous as possible, to confuse our guests and leave them off-balance. And it worked.
Now, that wasn't my only reason for shaving my head. I've always liked my hair short, and the shorter it got, the more I liked it. So I had a curiosity about shaving it all the way off, just to see if I liked it the best. After all, if I hated it, it's just hair; it'll grow back.
But my other excuse for shaving my hair was because I was working on a calendar for the club - The Sexy Bald Men Calendar. I had gotten 14 guys with bald or nearly-bald heads to do photo shoots and submit photos for a calendar. And kind of in support for or advertising for the calendar, my head being shaved was pretty cool too. I'm even a couple of the calendar pics with my equally-bald pate.
The day after I shaved it, there was health fair at my work. There was some guy touting the wonders of some kind of 'magic chocolate' - a chocolate-flavored health supplement of some kind, and you could see his face light up when he spotted me in the group as he began his spiel. When he got to the right part of his presentation, he looked at me and said, "I gotta' ask... cancer?" Poor guy was unhappy to hear that no, I'm just weird. Turns out his magic chocolate cures cancer, too. I may have narrowly missed out on some sort of revival-healing.
Some of my friends were worried about the C-word, too. I was also going through a phase of getting rid of a bunch of my stuff. And with my daughter having just gone to college, I was making a lot of adjustments to my life. That included a series of trips to the doctor to catch up on my healthcare. So some people put all those things together and started worrying about losing me. I had to post a huge Facebook note to everyone to reassure them that I'm not sick, just adjusting.
It does get me a lot of attention, being bald. Lots of black women stop me in stores and parking lots to complement me on it. They are always very empowering in their encouragement and admiration. When the rare white woman comments on it, it's always with a self-effacing, "I could never do that" kind of remark. It reminds me of some of the comments people would make to my mom about wearing a big hat to church.
Sometimes, being bald is really confusing to other people. People default to assuming I'm male because I'm white and bald. In a drive-through, I'm almost always addressed as 'Sir'. And I never say anything; if I minded, I wouldn't have shaved my head. But when they realize it, it's always amusing, yet sad, to see them stumbling over themselves apologizing. I got pulled over once by a cop, who didn't realize I was female until he looked at my license. Granted, it was pretty dark. And then he couldn't hand me back my license and get out of there fast enough. I told myself he was on the lookout for some belligerent bald white guy in a red pick-up truck.
Of course, that means it's easier for me to 'play' male if I wish. Paul loves that. And since it means reshaving every weekend or two, sometimes we shave off all but a small mohawk - Paul and Rubi both like the mohawk a lot. So I have options in my hair choice that can be changed easily by just reshaving.
I'm cooler at night, without a bunch of hair in my way. Which is great, because Boss is always cold, and I'm always hot. So getting my head cool helps a whole lot.
My hair can't be pulled; that's both good and bad. I like my hair pulled, on purpose, by certain people, up to a certain point. And I miss that. But there are other things that can substitute. However, I never accidentally catch my hair in anything or pull it rolling over in bed or anything like that. And my hair can't be pulled past that 'certain point' where I like it. Sam finds it pretty darned amusing when a top's all frustrated because he wants to grab my hair and it won't work.
The weather's starting to cool again now, though. So I'm trying out a few different caps to wear, to keep from getting too cool. I bought one for Jarett that Paul inherited, and I've been wearing it the last few days regardless of who is out.
Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a window or a mirror somewhere. I make an unusual sight; I'm not your cookie-cutter magazine-ad girl. Heavy - mostly top-heavy - and bald white woman, no longer a young girl. My fashion sense is pretty muted; I dress for comfort, but not soccer-mom or couch-potato kind of comfort. I do have my own style. And for the first time I can remember in years, I really dig my own style. I like the way I look and the aura I project. I am an attention-getter, and I like it.
Now, that wasn't my only reason for shaving my head. I've always liked my hair short, and the shorter it got, the more I liked it. So I had a curiosity about shaving it all the way off, just to see if I liked it the best. After all, if I hated it, it's just hair; it'll grow back.
But my other excuse for shaving my hair was because I was working on a calendar for the club - The Sexy Bald Men Calendar. I had gotten 14 guys with bald or nearly-bald heads to do photo shoots and submit photos for a calendar. And kind of in support for or advertising for the calendar, my head being shaved was pretty cool too. I'm even a couple of the calendar pics with my equally-bald pate.
The day after I shaved it, there was health fair at my work. There was some guy touting the wonders of some kind of 'magic chocolate' - a chocolate-flavored health supplement of some kind, and you could see his face light up when he spotted me in the group as he began his spiel. When he got to the right part of his presentation, he looked at me and said, "I gotta' ask... cancer?" Poor guy was unhappy to hear that no, I'm just weird. Turns out his magic chocolate cures cancer, too. I may have narrowly missed out on some sort of revival-healing.
Some of my friends were worried about the C-word, too. I was also going through a phase of getting rid of a bunch of my stuff. And with my daughter having just gone to college, I was making a lot of adjustments to my life. That included a series of trips to the doctor to catch up on my healthcare. So some people put all those things together and started worrying about losing me. I had to post a huge Facebook note to everyone to reassure them that I'm not sick, just adjusting.
It does get me a lot of attention, being bald. Lots of black women stop me in stores and parking lots to complement me on it. They are always very empowering in their encouragement and admiration. When the rare white woman comments on it, it's always with a self-effacing, "I could never do that" kind of remark. It reminds me of some of the comments people would make to my mom about wearing a big hat to church.
Sometimes, being bald is really confusing to other people. People default to assuming I'm male because I'm white and bald. In a drive-through, I'm almost always addressed as 'Sir'. And I never say anything; if I minded, I wouldn't have shaved my head. But when they realize it, it's always amusing, yet sad, to see them stumbling over themselves apologizing. I got pulled over once by a cop, who didn't realize I was female until he looked at my license. Granted, it was pretty dark. And then he couldn't hand me back my license and get out of there fast enough. I told myself he was on the lookout for some belligerent bald white guy in a red pick-up truck.
Of course, that means it's easier for me to 'play' male if I wish. Paul loves that. And since it means reshaving every weekend or two, sometimes we shave off all but a small mohawk - Paul and Rubi both like the mohawk a lot. So I have options in my hair choice that can be changed easily by just reshaving.
I'm cooler at night, without a bunch of hair in my way. Which is great, because Boss is always cold, and I'm always hot. So getting my head cool helps a whole lot.
My hair can't be pulled; that's both good and bad. I like my hair pulled, on purpose, by certain people, up to a certain point. And I miss that. But there are other things that can substitute. However, I never accidentally catch my hair in anything or pull it rolling over in bed or anything like that. And my hair can't be pulled past that 'certain point' where I like it. Sam finds it pretty darned amusing when a top's all frustrated because he wants to grab my hair and it won't work.
The weather's starting to cool again now, though. So I'm trying out a few different caps to wear, to keep from getting too cool. I bought one for Jarett that Paul inherited, and I've been wearing it the last few days regardless of who is out.
Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a window or a mirror somewhere. I make an unusual sight; I'm not your cookie-cutter magazine-ad girl. Heavy - mostly top-heavy - and bald white woman, no longer a young girl. My fashion sense is pretty muted; I dress for comfort, but not soccer-mom or couch-potato kind of comfort. I do have my own style. And for the first time I can remember in years, I really dig my own style. I like the way I look and the aura I project. I am an attention-getter, and I like it.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Poly with Kids [Me]
Okay, you have to go read this - Polyamorous with children: A mom's story. Here's a woman who contacted a newpaper and said, hey, you're writing about polyamory - here I am. I sense a kindred spirit here. I've not tried to hide who and what I am, and that brings a lot of peace and confidence into my world that might not otherwise be there.
She has kids, and they know, and it's no big deal. Because they didn't make a big deal about it. I have a kid, and it's no big deal to her, because we didn't make a big deal about it. "Hey, kid. I'm moving in with my boyfriend. By the way, his other girlfriend also lives with him, so we'll all be living together." Her main question was, "Are you good with that?" And I am, so she is too. We've already found out that my daughter is definitely monogomous herself. And that's cool too.
I love how she answers the question "So no one had a problem with it?" Yeah, some people stopped being friends with me over it. And we moved on. Your friends are supposed to be the people that support you. If they can't support you being happy as you are, then they aren't friends, and it's good to recognize that you aren't friends, and move on. It happens, friendships evolve, or they end.
She has kids, and they know, and it's no big deal. Because they didn't make a big deal about it. I have a kid, and it's no big deal to her, because we didn't make a big deal about it. "Hey, kid. I'm moving in with my boyfriend. By the way, his other girlfriend also lives with him, so we'll all be living together." Her main question was, "Are you good with that?" And I am, so she is too. We've already found out that my daughter is definitely monogomous herself. And that's cool too.
I love how she answers the question "So no one had a problem with it?" Yeah, some people stopped being friends with me over it. And we moved on. Your friends are supposed to be the people that support you. If they can't support you being happy as you are, then they aren't friends, and it's good to recognize that you aren't friends, and move on. It happens, friendships evolve, or they end.
Still Unsettled [Me]
I got to listen in on Gracelyn and Boss discussing everything on the ride in this morning. They do, often. It's like I have two therapists comparing notes about my treatment, only I get to eavesdrop on the meeting. All my life, riding in the car has been the best time to have a discussion with someone else. You're both going to be physically present the entire time, and because you're both facing forward, eye contact isn't going to be constant. And some things are easier to say when you aren't making eye contact.
They talked about this weekend. Turns out there was a big fight between him and the metamour on Saturday night before he and I went to the club that I didn't know about. I knew there was tension, but not that it had erupted. Which makes his crash on Saturday night make even more sense. On one hand, he probably shouldn't have gone to the club at all; on the other hand, staying home would have been worse.
They also talked about individual alters. Gracelyn herself, which is unusual. But she hasn't been coming out much lately. His clue to that is that she hasn't been keeping the dishes done each night. That's her thing, that and driving in to work in the morning. Which she's also been letting slide for me to do. He's done dishes and not said a thing, which is pretty awesome of him, actually, since I know he hates doing dishes even more than I do.
Oddly enough, Kiara's been doing the dishes as often as anyone else. And she's been out cleaning our room and straightening up. It's pretty cool that she's doing some housework, but really it's not housework so much as OCD-work. She's always been soothed by organizing and putting things in order. One time when she was upset I got out a bunch of quarters and let her stack and sort them into piles, and that really helped her. So she's doing organizing to soothe herself. What worries Gracelyn and Boss is that she's doing a lot of solo stuff. Kiara's a social creature; she lives to engage with other people. And now she's avoiding doing just that. Boss feels that she's even pulling away from him a lot. And we know that the problem is that she's still grieving over Bear. And as you might expect, since she's had one of her Daddy-figures pulled away from her unexpectedly, she's pulling away from her other Daddy-figure, afraid that she'll lose him too. I don't know what to do for her. Gracelyn has suggested that perhaps getting her time with someone other than Boss, someone she cares about, might reassure her that there are more of 'her' people out there. I don't know; and there's only a few people that I can let go and trust to be good with her.
And when one kid gets messed up, the other does too, apparently. Paul came out last night, and he was eight, and he's been 'reset' somehow. He's always had access to memories of other members of the system, like reviewing the video tapes. But watching a video and being present aren't the same. So he had his memories, and the videos of ours. Suddenly, all of his memories have transferred over to video files, he doesn't have any active memories of his own. So last night it was like he was out for the first time. He knew Boss, but didn't have the emotional connection to him. He knew where everything in our room is, but didn't connect with it as his room. And he was terrified that Boss was going to want from him the same closeness they've had before - and he wasn't ready for that. However, Boss just reassured him that he was safe and could relax, and eventually he did. I woke up a few times with him still out, and then Kiara was dreaming - about doughnuts, of all things. And this morning, the sun is brighter, and things are okay.
They talked about this weekend. Turns out there was a big fight between him and the metamour on Saturday night before he and I went to the club that I didn't know about. I knew there was tension, but not that it had erupted. Which makes his crash on Saturday night make even more sense. On one hand, he probably shouldn't have gone to the club at all; on the other hand, staying home would have been worse.
They also talked about individual alters. Gracelyn herself, which is unusual. But she hasn't been coming out much lately. His clue to that is that she hasn't been keeping the dishes done each night. That's her thing, that and driving in to work in the morning. Which she's also been letting slide for me to do. He's done dishes and not said a thing, which is pretty awesome of him, actually, since I know he hates doing dishes even more than I do.
Oddly enough, Kiara's been doing the dishes as often as anyone else. And she's been out cleaning our room and straightening up. It's pretty cool that she's doing some housework, but really it's not housework so much as OCD-work. She's always been soothed by organizing and putting things in order. One time when she was upset I got out a bunch of quarters and let her stack and sort them into piles, and that really helped her. So she's doing organizing to soothe herself. What worries Gracelyn and Boss is that she's doing a lot of solo stuff. Kiara's a social creature; she lives to engage with other people. And now she's avoiding doing just that. Boss feels that she's even pulling away from him a lot. And we know that the problem is that she's still grieving over Bear. And as you might expect, since she's had one of her Daddy-figures pulled away from her unexpectedly, she's pulling away from her other Daddy-figure, afraid that she'll lose him too. I don't know what to do for her. Gracelyn has suggested that perhaps getting her time with someone other than Boss, someone she cares about, might reassure her that there are more of 'her' people out there. I don't know; and there's only a few people that I can let go and trust to be good with her.
And when one kid gets messed up, the other does too, apparently. Paul came out last night, and he was eight, and he's been 'reset' somehow. He's always had access to memories of other members of the system, like reviewing the video tapes. But watching a video and being present aren't the same. So he had his memories, and the videos of ours. Suddenly, all of his memories have transferred over to video files, he doesn't have any active memories of his own. So last night it was like he was out for the first time. He knew Boss, but didn't have the emotional connection to him. He knew where everything in our room is, but didn't connect with it as his room. And he was terrified that Boss was going to want from him the same closeness they've had before - and he wasn't ready for that. However, Boss just reassured him that he was safe and could relax, and eventually he did. I woke up a few times with him still out, and then Kiara was dreaming - about doughnuts, of all things. And this morning, the sun is brighter, and things are okay.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Weekend Blues [Me]
This weekend was pretty icky. Stress in the household seems to be contagious from one system to another. My metamour has been needing some major dental work for a long time now, and finally got it done recently. Well, because of that she's been on heavy antibiotics, which make her feel horrible. Worse, they mute the effect of her anti-seizure meds. And then added to that are some pretty strong pain meds for after the dental work. So she's drugged, feeling sick, recovering from surgery, and having seizures. Then her father died. So now she's depressed on top of all of that. Which means, yeah, she's having a horrible time of it lately. I feel so bad for her, and there's absolutely zilch I can do to make her feel better. I've basically tried to stay out of her way and not cause her extra stress. Oh, and I brought her cupcakes and doughnuts. Soft foods that she loves.
So she's feeling terrible, and Boss is really sensitive to picking up emotions and soaking them up like a sponge. Which is great when folks around him are doing well - he gets an instant pick-me-up for free! And it means he is very sensitive to recognize when something is wrong and try to help fix it. But when it's not fixable, it just weighs on him, heavier and heavier. There's also work stress, of course, but mostly he's worried about her and feels helpless to do anything. Which really tarnishes his White Knight helmet. So he's crabby and mopey. And since he's trying so hard not to be crabby and mopey with her, some of it leaks out with me. So he's been pretty authoritarian and a bit snappish. I understand why he is, and I try to let it wash over, but I still get some hurt feelings over it.
Which means now I'm all grouchy and pouty. And the three of us are there together trying not to offend one another and still get our needs met without interfering with anyone else. It's tough. And it's no one's fault; we just have to get through this time. I'm trying not to be needy and demanding of Boss's attention, because he's worn out trying to attend to the Metamour. She's just trying to get through the day without losing it, and he's trying to take care of both of us and his work. Yes, our apartment is now carpeted with metaphysical eggshells.
So, this weekend. Friday night there was a private party at the club, and I decided not to go. So I was pretty much at home. Now, I'm not a stay-at-home kind of person. Too much time at home and I get antsy. Especially when it's dark and we have to be quiet, because we're trying to let the Metamour sleep as much as possible to get through the drugs and healing. And the animals have picked up on the stress and are acting out, so it's kind of not smelling so good lately - and that means my allergies are making me crabby too. So I'm home on Friday, and it's fine. Saturday, I somehow didn't make any plans, so we slept in.
I got 'done' sleeping long before Boss did, and got on the computer. Kiara ended up watching Glee, a show that she just loves. However, this was the big break-up episode, which ends with all the relationships on the rocks and everyone unhappy. Kiara still hasn't really processed the whole breaking-up with Bear thing. So she got all uneasy and sad, so she went and woke up her Issi to make her feel better. She ended up nestled in his arms, just crying softly. And he didn't have the energy to deal with that at the time, so it never really felt 'done'. Okay, no biggie, we'll deal with it. Someone else came out at some point, and we got up.
And then a friend got invited over for dinner. Boss wanted to cook dinner and clean up a bit - perfectly reasonable. But he didn't ask, he snapped orders about the cleaning up, and when we asked him for clarification, he bit off a 'because I'm the boss' kind of response instead of letting there be a discussion. So our feelings were hurt, and then he was upset because we were upset, and you know how that wheel turns, right? Everybody's upset and doesn't want to be, and there's no time to deal with it, so it waits.
But, it was Saturday night - time for the club! Now, I tend to count on going to the club and getting a good beating on one of the weekend nights each week, and I really need that regular stress relief. But this week, I had something planned that was going to push that till later; I was teaching a new person some of the basics. I recruited Boss to help me, and we actually had a really good teaching session. But as soon as it was over, he crashed. Crashed hard; like I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get him to the car and home. I went into full caretaker mode, and his mental merry-go-round spun pretty freely as I whisked him off home and to bed. Crisis handled. But no beating for me this weekend.
Sunday we still didn't have plans. And I'd been home for too long at this point. Between stress and needing a beating and arguments left unsettled and Kiara being upset and the apartment being dark & smelly... well, I was becoming a mess. I knew if I stayed at home all day, I was going to get really needy and demanding on the Boss's energy - energy he didn't have. So I exited. The truck needed cleaned out, so I headed out for the car wash. I was really fuzzy, and probably shouldn't have been driving, I'll admit in retrospect. And three of four hours later, I made it back home. I know what I did - I did the car wash thing, and a trip to Kmart, and ate lunch. Lunch helped a lot; I started clearing up after I ate. But I got fuzzy again by the time I got home.
When I got there, the screen was open, there were lights on, and cleaning was in progress. We set up fans to blow some fresh air through the house, and it was much more pleasant. After a while, I retreated to the bathtub for the evening, and then later asked to be tied up somewhat while I read in bed. Being tied up tends to center me and calm me down; I was hoping it would help. If not, my next resort was some cutting - Rubi has some new razors that she's looking forward to using. But I just didn't feel like having to deal with that. Luckily, the rope helped. When I woke up this morning, things are better. I'm back to my regular during-the-week schedule, and I'm planning on some play this weekend. I just have to get that far down the calendar.
Now the good thing is that, with the weekend being kind of stressful and unpleasant and fuzzy, I really can just barely remember as much as I've written here. Sometimes losing time is a good thing. The bad thing that goes with that is that I basically get two work-weeks in a row. Ugh. Looking forward to this weekend.
So she's feeling terrible, and Boss is really sensitive to picking up emotions and soaking them up like a sponge. Which is great when folks around him are doing well - he gets an instant pick-me-up for free! And it means he is very sensitive to recognize when something is wrong and try to help fix it. But when it's not fixable, it just weighs on him, heavier and heavier. There's also work stress, of course, but mostly he's worried about her and feels helpless to do anything. Which really tarnishes his White Knight helmet. So he's crabby and mopey. And since he's trying so hard not to be crabby and mopey with her, some of it leaks out with me. So he's been pretty authoritarian and a bit snappish. I understand why he is, and I try to let it wash over, but I still get some hurt feelings over it.
Which means now I'm all grouchy and pouty. And the three of us are there together trying not to offend one another and still get our needs met without interfering with anyone else. It's tough. And it's no one's fault; we just have to get through this time. I'm trying not to be needy and demanding of Boss's attention, because he's worn out trying to attend to the Metamour. She's just trying to get through the day without losing it, and he's trying to take care of both of us and his work. Yes, our apartment is now carpeted with metaphysical eggshells.
So, this weekend. Friday night there was a private party at the club, and I decided not to go. So I was pretty much at home. Now, I'm not a stay-at-home kind of person. Too much time at home and I get antsy. Especially when it's dark and we have to be quiet, because we're trying to let the Metamour sleep as much as possible to get through the drugs and healing. And the animals have picked up on the stress and are acting out, so it's kind of not smelling so good lately - and that means my allergies are making me crabby too. So I'm home on Friday, and it's fine. Saturday, I somehow didn't make any plans, so we slept in.
I got 'done' sleeping long before Boss did, and got on the computer. Kiara ended up watching Glee, a show that she just loves. However, this was the big break-up episode, which ends with all the relationships on the rocks and everyone unhappy. Kiara still hasn't really processed the whole breaking-up with Bear thing. So she got all uneasy and sad, so she went and woke up her Issi to make her feel better. She ended up nestled in his arms, just crying softly. And he didn't have the energy to deal with that at the time, so it never really felt 'done'. Okay, no biggie, we'll deal with it. Someone else came out at some point, and we got up.
And then a friend got invited over for dinner. Boss wanted to cook dinner and clean up a bit - perfectly reasonable. But he didn't ask, he snapped orders about the cleaning up, and when we asked him for clarification, he bit off a 'because I'm the boss' kind of response instead of letting there be a discussion. So our feelings were hurt, and then he was upset because we were upset, and you know how that wheel turns, right? Everybody's upset and doesn't want to be, and there's no time to deal with it, so it waits.
But, it was Saturday night - time for the club! Now, I tend to count on going to the club and getting a good beating on one of the weekend nights each week, and I really need that regular stress relief. But this week, I had something planned that was going to push that till later; I was teaching a new person some of the basics. I recruited Boss to help me, and we actually had a really good teaching session. But as soon as it was over, he crashed. Crashed hard; like I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get him to the car and home. I went into full caretaker mode, and his mental merry-go-round spun pretty freely as I whisked him off home and to bed. Crisis handled. But no beating for me this weekend.
Sunday we still didn't have plans. And I'd been home for too long at this point. Between stress and needing a beating and arguments left unsettled and Kiara being upset and the apartment being dark & smelly... well, I was becoming a mess. I knew if I stayed at home all day, I was going to get really needy and demanding on the Boss's energy - energy he didn't have. So I exited. The truck needed cleaned out, so I headed out for the car wash. I was really fuzzy, and probably shouldn't have been driving, I'll admit in retrospect. And three of four hours later, I made it back home. I know what I did - I did the car wash thing, and a trip to Kmart, and ate lunch. Lunch helped a lot; I started clearing up after I ate. But I got fuzzy again by the time I got home.
When I got there, the screen was open, there were lights on, and cleaning was in progress. We set up fans to blow some fresh air through the house, and it was much more pleasant. After a while, I retreated to the bathtub for the evening, and then later asked to be tied up somewhat while I read in bed. Being tied up tends to center me and calm me down; I was hoping it would help. If not, my next resort was some cutting - Rubi has some new razors that she's looking forward to using. But I just didn't feel like having to deal with that. Luckily, the rope helped. When I woke up this morning, things are better. I'm back to my regular during-the-week schedule, and I'm planning on some play this weekend. I just have to get that far down the calendar.
Now the good thing is that, with the weekend being kind of stressful and unpleasant and fuzzy, I really can just barely remember as much as I've written here. Sometimes losing time is a good thing. The bad thing that goes with that is that I basically get two work-weeks in a row. Ugh. Looking forward to this weekend.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Writings by MultiMe [Me]
Okay, I took an old blog with some of my writings on it, and added some other stuff I've written. As I write more, I'll put them on there - Writings by MultiMe. Most of it's erotica. I'm probably going to put some taboo stuff on there at some point, so don't read it unless you are prepared for it.
Thinking About Writing [Me]
I don't seem to want to blog. It's not because there's nothing to talk about; there is. In part, I'm tired and not sure I can trust my writing to come out sounding like I mean it to. Also, sometimes when there are big things going on I put off blogging to avoid dealing with it. When I put it in writing, it's suddenly too real. But I don't think that's happening this time either. I just think, "Blog? Eh, maybe after some Pinterest..." And I never get back around to it. I'm being lazy about my writing.
Which is odd, because I've been thinking a lot about my writing lately (see, now I'm going again). I've written another erotic short, and I like the way it turned out. And I've got a few more in my head I'm thinking about working on, getting into some written form. But some of those might be a bit taboo, with characters underage (influenced by Paul's stuff), so I can't even post them on Fetlife. Or just might not want to.
And I'm about to start off another Star Trek writing game/simulation. While doing all this thinking about writing, I tapped on the Facebook Inbox of one of my ship-mates from before when I wrote Star Trek stuff. He and I did some really great co-writing, so I asked if he was doing any simming these days. And he was just starting to consider running another independent simulation, so he invited me to be his XO again. I dragged my feet for a week or so, getting around to looking the character back up and re-reading the stuff I wrote for her before, but now I'm getting excited about it, and looking forward to getting started on that writing. When I wrote Star Trek stuff before, it really served as a kind of therapy for me - I already wrote about that here. Maybe this time it will, as well.
So I've got a short list of some blogs I want to write - sometime - and there's plenty of current events to catch up on. Maybe this post will get me started.
Which is odd, because I've been thinking a lot about my writing lately (see, now I'm going again). I've written another erotic short, and I like the way it turned out. And I've got a few more in my head I'm thinking about working on, getting into some written form. But some of those might be a bit taboo, with characters underage (influenced by Paul's stuff), so I can't even post them on Fetlife. Or just might not want to.
-Hey readers, should I start another blog with my erotic pieces on it? Would you read it, too?-
And I'm about to start off another Star Trek writing game/simulation. While doing all this thinking about writing, I tapped on the Facebook Inbox of one of my ship-mates from before when I wrote Star Trek stuff. He and I did some really great co-writing, so I asked if he was doing any simming these days. And he was just starting to consider running another independent simulation, so he invited me to be his XO again. I dragged my feet for a week or so, getting around to looking the character back up and re-reading the stuff I wrote for her before, but now I'm getting excited about it, and looking forward to getting started on that writing. When I wrote Star Trek stuff before, it really served as a kind of therapy for me - I already wrote about that here. Maybe this time it will, as well.
So I've got a short list of some blogs I want to write - sometime - and there's plenty of current events to catch up on. Maybe this post will get me started.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Paul's Adventures [Me]
I asked Paul if he wants to write this post, since it's about him, but he declined. He's been getting stronger and stronger. I would say he's as fully-formed a person as Kiara is, at this point. He's a great boy. He's been learning to bootblack recently, and shows some promise of skill. He's created his own Fetlife account and starting to make his own friendships. He's voiced his opinion separate from the rest of us, and is beginning to have a 'voice' - a way his writing sounds and feels - that is unique to him. He's devoted to Boss as his lover and father figure both. But he's also learning to flirt and interact with other men, too.
We have one particular friend that he is becoming pretty fast friends with. This is the young man who is teaching him to bootblack. He's encouraged Paul to express himself as a boy, and they've talked a lot about things as simple and exciting as wearing a packer, or at least boys' underwear. Luckily, Boss is fond of the young man as well, so it looks like that set of relationships will flow well as it grows. I'm very excited to see where it goes.
Paul has started to really investigate where he is as a sexual person, as well, more in a solo sense than as a partner. He's quite visual, and much more interested in watching porn than we girls are. He does feel a phantom penis very strongly, and can masturbate it nearly as well as if it was corporeal. We've also experimented with a few different ways to overlap something real - a dildo or a strapon or something - with his phantom penis. All with a measure of success. I'm looking forward to purchasing a Reeldoe or something similar to see how that works for him (and if it doesn't, Sam wants to try it). We just bought a jockstrap for him to wear, and he was pretty pleased with that.
He's also getting very adept at sliding ages from eight to eleven to fourteen. At eight, he's more likely to be interested in playing with Legos or with the dog, and treats Boss as much more of a father figure. At fourteen he's much more sure of himself, and Boss is someone to be flirted with. There seems to be a barrier of some sort to get to seventeen, or to get younger, to five or even two. And it takes a lot of energy and purpose to cross the line.
We have crossed the line sometimes, however, usually toward the younger age. He's willing to do so, but it does make him pretty uneasy. When he's younger, he doesn't have much control over it, and really has trouble aging back up again. But I remember he had a lot of trouble switching out when he first showed up, so maybe it will get easier with practice. When he's five or two, we've taken to calling him 'Baby Paul' - more like Baby Paul is an alter within Paul - I think each of his ages could qualify as alters in a subsystem, really. Baby Paul isn't very verbal, especially at two. He's very solemn, and sucks his thumb (but not the same way Kiara sucks it, I've noticed). He can't really feel below my knees - after all, he has short little-boy legs. And he waits quietly for an ice cream when everything is finished.
When he's out, or has just been out, we also have visual memories that are very specific. We can see a large four-poster bed with shelves on the headboard and a light, of a very dark color wood. The matching dresser sits where my dresser does - a pretty massive thing. My bookshelves don't fit in this visual - there are no books in Baby Paul's world. The carpet is a dark brown, matted in places with what looks to me like animal stains. There are shoe boxes under the bed. Now, none of these things are true in my/our real world. I don't know where the memories are from. But they are very strong.
We have one particular friend that he is becoming pretty fast friends with. This is the young man who is teaching him to bootblack. He's encouraged Paul to express himself as a boy, and they've talked a lot about things as simple and exciting as wearing a packer, or at least boys' underwear. Luckily, Boss is fond of the young man as well, so it looks like that set of relationships will flow well as it grows. I'm very excited to see where it goes.
Paul has started to really investigate where he is as a sexual person, as well, more in a solo sense than as a partner. He's quite visual, and much more interested in watching porn than we girls are. He does feel a phantom penis very strongly, and can masturbate it nearly as well as if it was corporeal. We've also experimented with a few different ways to overlap something real - a dildo or a strapon or something - with his phantom penis. All with a measure of success. I'm looking forward to purchasing a Reeldoe or something similar to see how that works for him (and if it doesn't, Sam wants to try it). We just bought a jockstrap for him to wear, and he was pretty pleased with that.
He's also getting very adept at sliding ages from eight to eleven to fourteen. At eight, he's more likely to be interested in playing with Legos or with the dog, and treats Boss as much more of a father figure. At fourteen he's much more sure of himself, and Boss is someone to be flirted with. There seems to be a barrier of some sort to get to seventeen, or to get younger, to five or even two. And it takes a lot of energy and purpose to cross the line.
We have crossed the line sometimes, however, usually toward the younger age. He's willing to do so, but it does make him pretty uneasy. When he's younger, he doesn't have much control over it, and really has trouble aging back up again. But I remember he had a lot of trouble switching out when he first showed up, so maybe it will get easier with practice. When he's five or two, we've taken to calling him 'Baby Paul' - more like Baby Paul is an alter within Paul - I think each of his ages could qualify as alters in a subsystem, really. Baby Paul isn't very verbal, especially at two. He's very solemn, and sucks his thumb (but not the same way Kiara sucks it, I've noticed). He can't really feel below my knees - after all, he has short little-boy legs. And he waits quietly for an ice cream when everything is finished.
When he's out, or has just been out, we also have visual memories that are very specific. We can see a large four-poster bed with shelves on the headboard and a light, of a very dark color wood. The matching dresser sits where my dresser does - a pretty massive thing. My bookshelves don't fit in this visual - there are no books in Baby Paul's world. The carpet is a dark brown, matted in places with what looks to me like animal stains. There are shoe boxes under the bed. Now, none of these things are true in my/our real world. I don't know where the memories are from. But they are very strong.
Stephanie - Temporary [Me]
See that delay? That's me having too much to write about and not sure what to do with it. Hey, this next bit is a little on the dark side, might justify a trigger warning.
Did you know that we could have a temporary alter? Neither did we, until one showed up. There's this girl... her purpose seems to be being afraid of Boss when we play. She can't be disobedient, and she doesn't enjoy playing, but she needs it. She's said that she is temporary, not part of the rest of the system. She didn't even have a name. Boss named her September (which I like), then changed it to Stephanie (which I don't). I don't know why we don't like the name Stephanie, but she seems relieved that it's a name we don't like. I can see her in my mind. She's young, maybe mid to late teens? Has stringy dark hair and brown eyes with huge bags under them - or is that a black eye? She's got cuts and bruises all over her of various ages - I can't tell if any are self-inflicted, but she stands in that pose that screams 'abused', one arm awkwardly holding the other elbow as that hand dangles, feet bare and akimbo, hunched over waiting for that next blow. Flinching from it before it happens.
Her arrival has brought up the subject of fear, and love. You can't have both in the same place. I let him - ask him - to do some pretty awful things to me when we play. But I trust him not to harm me, to be more careful of me than I am of myself. He loves me, and would never intentionally do something that he actually thought would be harmful to me. And that leaves a hole for me, because I understand that, and because of it, I trust him. I know that he'll pull that last bit of his blow, and that means I'm not afraid of it, not really. And sometimes, I need to be afraid. I was afraid - physically afraid - of Bear, because he's just a giant of a man, and though I trusted him, we didn't have that romantic chivalric love between us that would keep me from being afraid of him. My body and my animal mind believed that if he wanted to, he could maim or kill me and nothing I could do about it, even though my rational adult mind says I'm safe enough. With Boss, an earnest 'please' will stop things. I can't be fully afraid of him.
Seems like a good thing, right? Who wants to be afraid of someone you love? Turns out, I do. We do. I occasionally need to be less-than-completely sure that I'll make it through the night okay. We need to cry and beg and get 'No' for an answer. That's what I was getting from Bear. And now I am not. So I think Stephanie has turned up to fill that need. She's not in love with Boss. She's terrified of him. So terrified that she can't be anything but completely obedient to him. Some of that fear-obedience is similar to Cherish's. But whereas Cherish is completely obedient, she also loves Boss with something beyond love. She worships him. And thus, she trusts him. Or rather, she has the attitude that if he wishes to do harm to our body, that's his right, and though she might beg and plead, she would never think that he should stop unless he wants to. If he told her he was going to cut off her leg, she'd cry, but she'd stand still while he tied her down for it. For Stephanie, she'd be too afraid to move while he tied her down for it. Same effect, different meaning.
Gracelyn and Boss seem to think that perhaps Stephanie is here to gain a little strength and then be merged into Cherish. Or she might stick around as long as she's needed and then fade away. In part, I hope it happens quickly. But I also understand why I need her.
Did you know that we could have a temporary alter? Neither did we, until one showed up. There's this girl... her purpose seems to be being afraid of Boss when we play. She can't be disobedient, and she doesn't enjoy playing, but she needs it. She's said that she is temporary, not part of the rest of the system. She didn't even have a name. Boss named her September (which I like), then changed it to Stephanie (which I don't). I don't know why we don't like the name Stephanie, but she seems relieved that it's a name we don't like. I can see her in my mind. She's young, maybe mid to late teens? Has stringy dark hair and brown eyes with huge bags under them - or is that a black eye? She's got cuts and bruises all over her of various ages - I can't tell if any are self-inflicted, but she stands in that pose that screams 'abused', one arm awkwardly holding the other elbow as that hand dangles, feet bare and akimbo, hunched over waiting for that next blow. Flinching from it before it happens.
Her arrival has brought up the subject of fear, and love. You can't have both in the same place. I let him - ask him - to do some pretty awful things to me when we play. But I trust him not to harm me, to be more careful of me than I am of myself. He loves me, and would never intentionally do something that he actually thought would be harmful to me. And that leaves a hole for me, because I understand that, and because of it, I trust him. I know that he'll pull that last bit of his blow, and that means I'm not afraid of it, not really. And sometimes, I need to be afraid. I was afraid - physically afraid - of Bear, because he's just a giant of a man, and though I trusted him, we didn't have that romantic chivalric love between us that would keep me from being afraid of him. My body and my animal mind believed that if he wanted to, he could maim or kill me and nothing I could do about it, even though my rational adult mind says I'm safe enough. With Boss, an earnest 'please' will stop things. I can't be fully afraid of him.
Seems like a good thing, right? Who wants to be afraid of someone you love? Turns out, I do. We do. I occasionally need to be less-than-completely sure that I'll make it through the night okay. We need to cry and beg and get 'No' for an answer. That's what I was getting from Bear. And now I am not. So I think Stephanie has turned up to fill that need. She's not in love with Boss. She's terrified of him. So terrified that she can't be anything but completely obedient to him. Some of that fear-obedience is similar to Cherish's. But whereas Cherish is completely obedient, she also loves Boss with something beyond love. She worships him. And thus, she trusts him. Or rather, she has the attitude that if he wishes to do harm to our body, that's his right, and though she might beg and plead, she would never think that he should stop unless he wants to. If he told her he was going to cut off her leg, she'd cry, but she'd stand still while he tied her down for it. For Stephanie, she'd be too afraid to move while he tied her down for it. Same effect, different meaning.
Gracelyn and Boss seem to think that perhaps Stephanie is here to gain a little strength and then be merged into Cherish. Or she might stick around as long as she's needed and then fade away. In part, I hope it happens quickly. But I also understand why I need her.
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