Eco-Grief

 I have been allowing myself to hear stories of the ways in which people are protecting the world. A YouTuber named Sam Bently (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApEr9M5P8d0) has been making a montage of the ways different countries are working to take care of Mother Nature. It feels inspiring to hear that there are plenty of people taking action.

I don't know about you, but I have felt pretty debilitated at times. The whole recycling debate that we're all tired of thinking about. In Brooklyn, NY it became mandatory to have a composting bin! My own bit of good news. Then when I moved to South Florida I found a drop off site to purchase a membership at. It felt good to reduce my garbage load.

Another effort I am making is to reengage with the WWOOFing program. Here's the US version: https://wwoofusa.org/en/, but it exists all over the world and it's a really interesting way to engage in it. I started when I was 19 years old and hadn't WWOOFed since until I recently stayed on a property in Homestead, FL for a week. After hiding from the heat in my family's air conditioned home for the past couple of months, it was liberating to spend most of my days outdoors, hands in the dirt, kittens chasing me around the garden.

I feel myself becoming unstuck. I don't know how long this feeling will last or what the future brings. I do know that today, I am working towards my own healing. That's all I've got, 'one day at a time'. My desire is to have a reciprocal relationship with the nature around me, caring for it and trusting and accepting her care in return.

The in-between spaces

 I realized recently that I am living in the in-between space and that it is a familiar place for me. These spaces in our lives that are in-between jobs, in-between relationships, in-between apartments. I just got married and I have found myself in my husband's recently late grandmother's house as it's preparing to change hands to a new lineage of humans. Generations of memories echoing through the halls.

In-between spaces carry a lot of joy, a lot of sorrow and a lot of uncertainty. What is to come? How do I define myself? In order to make sense of it all, I draw myself closer to the Higher Power of my understanding. At least, I am in good hands.

It's hard not to remember my last round of goodbyes as I say my most recent. Faces of those who became so familiar, destined to become strangers, trusted confidants, radiant faces who appear whilst travelling through their own in-betweens. Hard to know who's who sometimes. Not really something I have control over, I've slowly come to learn.

In these in-betweens I've noticed a slowing down, more time to feel appreciation for what I have accomplished rather than criticism for what I haven't, an energy of creativity to spend. How will I spend it today? Dipping my toes in the sand and the frothing shoreline or slowly boxing the lifetime of possessions belonging to this woman who recently became my ancestor? What form does a spirit take in the memory of her granddaughter-in-law, I muse.

I feel my memories of my own grandmothers colliding as I gather bits of stories of this new one over weekly dinners. As I lounge in bed, I watch a younger version of Myrna watching me. I asked my husband to take it down, most of the other framed pictures already stacked in the living room in preparation for departure, but I feel a shadow of her authority as he unhooks it and walks away.

I wonder if/how/when I'll want to be remembered when I'm gone. As if we have control over it anyways, the best moments are unplanned in my experience. How am I already remembered? My face frozen in time for other's to call on and learn from, representing a variety of things, not all of which I'd like to know about. I've heard some version of the line, 'we mustn't be defined by our worst moment', reverberating through social media recently. I'm still not sure how to fully make sense of it.

These are the ponderings in the spaces in-between. Knowing that one day soon, life will return to a new normal and there will be little time to contemplate the universe and our place in it. Until the next upheaval of existence and we are foisted into the time in-between once again for a short period.

Can I let myself be cared for?

 I care for others, truly deeply passionately. I realize that this might be a unique trait that does not necessarily apply to everyone. Though I do believe we all have a certain level of care, many don't try to care about everyone. I care about everyone. Truly. As I'm writing this, I'm thinking to myself, "is this really true?". It feels authentic to say, a warm fuzzy in my chest when I think about people. I mean I did choose psychology as an undergrad major without question. There was no doubt whatsoever in my mind that I wanted to understand people better because they are lovely and wonderful.

I got caught up, I thought I had to take care of everyone somehow.  Now I'm sitting here thinking, who are the most in need of my help? How do you gauge level of need? Suicide rates? Met basic needs? Consistency...of what? This question remains in my mind and I don't think it will every go away fully. Regardless, who wants help? Who is willing to accept help?

Recently, I started wondering...how do I accept care from others? Here I am eager to give care, understanding, love and acceptance. But what if someone starts trying to give it to you? 

Someone recently is in what feels like a big way. It's making me think, "I'm sure I've been taken care of before!" and I can't understand what's different. It just seems that they can anticipate my needs in a way I've never experienced. Which is what I try to do with others. I try to anticipate people's needs. Sometimes tho they are just telling you to your face and you don't recognize it because you're in a fantasy world where you're saving the day. Too real. 

Back to someone anticipating my needs, they notice me. They are watching closely. I have spent a lifetime hiding my facial emotions from the world. Working to neutralize my face so I can react privately in any given circumstance. Most people aren't attentive enough to catch the millisecond of my expressions. Then someone did and keeps doing it and it's delightful. 

It's delightful, but when I need help, I'm probably not in the greatest of moods. I don't think I like needing help and I'm guessing this is pretty common. Don't want to be weak and all, but from experience I do believe that in some ways it takes more strength to ask for help than to suffer alone. I have come to realize that it gets tricky if I try to rely on one other person, but if I'm open to relying on my community of support instead then there is almost always someone available to show up for me.

Perspective on Firing

 Recently I was fired, my first time. I found out that it's a human experience. I'm part of a club. Several people told me their own stories of being fired. Some knew why and some suspected unfair treatment. At the end of the day it didn't carry the shame that I thought it was supposed to. In the movies being fired seemed to result from some egregious behaviour: a drunken blowout, theft... It seems that irl it's a bit more random: wrong place, wrong time, or perhaps not so wrong... I had an experience. 

It was a management job, which was a totally new experience for me, and it reinforced some of the stereotypes that I think I already had percolating in my brain. Middle management comes with a lot of bullshit. There are lots of power-hungry and unhappy folks in the corporate-type environment, regardless of the work they are doing. I hope not to be jaded, I wonder if there are opportunities to work collaboratively elsewhere. I wonder if there are workspaces where power is acknowledged and accounted for, I know this was my own goal as a manager and it seemed to be successful. I felt successful at the parts of the job that were important to me. 

It's a loss and it came with grief, but the grief is by no means complex. I had friends, lovers, and colleagues to soften the blow. I processed the grief with all the tools that I have learned in my therapeutic work without even realizing it. I shared the experience with others and I may have helped them to process some of their own fears and pain. For a week, I felt deeply cared for. Then I took off and went to another place where more folks could care for me. Gosh I'm smart.

Not just smart, but turning a corner in my life where I feel that I can allow others to care for me and really take it in. I trust that I am naturally a caring person at this point in my life. I don't need to try. I don't need to feel I'm extending myself. I am enough in my naturally caring state. I can just be. But receiving care is a whole nother enchilada and I am choosing to learn how to allow. 

Allowing others to care for me is vulnerable. Am I inconveniencing them? Will they expect something from me in return? Do I need to entertain them while they care for me to make it worth it? Do I need to seem better because they're making an effort and I want them to feel like it's working? 

Do I deserve it?

This last question is the foundation of not allowing. Have I earned enough credit doing my own caring of others and/or taking care of myself to now deserve to allow it to happen to me? Have I met the checks and balances of karma? Am I selfish? Am I a burden?

Again, this stuff is impossible to measure and a form of cognitive distortion. Reducing a complex thing like care and handing it to an accountant. The Accountant's Distortion. I choose to accept care if it's offered. I choose to offer it when I'm called. And I choose to trust that all will be well without this type of scorekeeping. And so it shall be, that and more. 

ABUNDANCE EXISTS

On Alcohol

 I used to blackout a lot. I mean what is a lot? I'd rather never do it again. I feel torn, is it worth drinking anything ever if it might lead me towards that behaviour again? Is it inevitable that it will result? I stopped drinking for 3 years and I remember moments where I felt so safe because I knew that I had so much more control over what was happening to me when I was sober and took awhile for it to sink in. It was quite profound. I feel a heaviness in being strict with myself. A sense of wary, not trusting. Alcoholism in the family. It's hereditary. It's genetic. My mother's drinking scared the shit out of me. My own almost killed me. Such evil possibilities seem to result. Accidents. Falling off the roof and breaking your back. It's soothing, alcohol. Suddenly you feel like everyone around you is a friend and it doesn't feel like work. Suddenly you're not sad anymore or having a bad day. It's a magic elixir that makes things easier, makes life easier. Maybe it even makes sex easier. Makes death easier. Last thing I want is to die from an alcohol related incident, including it being caused by another person and me being sober. One of my worst fears really. At the end of the day the only control I have is over myself. Safely drinking. Is it possible? 

Step 4: Anger at Men

 I feel furious at men. I feel a never-ending anger that seems to arise most days for the past few weeks. There's a feeling that in order to be in relationship with a man, that I have to put more emotional effort into one conversation than they do in a whole month (probably longer). That when conflict arises, if I don't address it, then it will pile up and continue to build. That if I didn't make plans with him, then we would never hang out. That I'm expected to receive rejection and then have no feelings in response. Then, I'm expected to then 'fix' everything so that he doesn't have to feel uncomfortable that I'm feeling rejected by the way he interacted with me. So there is no room for me to have an experience, my experience. I have to cater to his experience and his reality and his way. It's his way that's the correct way...right? The Way. Tired of this bullshit. Actually physically tired.   

My part: I've accepted this expectation. I've catered to all the men in my life, allowing their reality to be bigger than mine, more dominant. I've twisted and bent to make myself fit in to their lives, to learn their needs and their wants and to become those things. It's such a habit that I can barely notice that I'm doing it until I'm exhausted and then I feel too exhausted to do anything about it. Then, I feel like a victim to this world that doesn't really have a lot of space for me in it. I'm 'too much', 'too needy', 'too sensitive'. 

I'm sorry to myself for all the times I've made myself smaller and all the ways that I will continue to do so. Unsocializing myself is a process that may take longer than my lifetime. I will continue to initiate hard conversations, do the majority of resolving a conflict or negotiating both my own and my male friend's boundaries, do thoughtful things for him behind the scenes in ways that will never be reciprocated, and do the majority of coordinating spending quality time together. At least I'm aware now and I can potentially feel like it's a choice rather than a trap that I have to consistently fall into.

I'm sorry to all the men who have played this familiar pattern out with me as it benefits neither of us in our efforts to create sustainable and meaningful connections. I have loved and continue to love many of these men, but have had to reduce my connection to them because I'm just...tired. I'm feel exhausted, depleted, afraid.

Trevor

My baby making factory is on fire. I cannot even handle my libido recently. It feels ragingly ravenous. My belly is full of heat that rolls down into the back of my knees, lighting everything up along the way. Down into my feet, into the core of the earth connecting me to the miracle that is life. Nothing more erotic that the ability to create life. The idea that you could be connected to another person so intimately. Terrifying and exhilarating. It's hard to even write about, my brain glitches lol. The fantasy can be hot. The hormones screaming at you to do the thing, your vulva pulses and thick wet strands falling out of your cunt from it quivering with excitement, anticipation, pure need.

His smell is delicious. I don't even know how to describe the timbre of it because my mind is melty when it lingers in my nose or when I'm rolling around in his bed full of scent and drunk on it. Literally drunk, it's so...delicious. That's all I can really say.

Kissing him is like being in a boat that is rocking gentle on a clear blue day in the sea. Waters are warm and turquoise and the rocking feels like you're being lulled into a nice dream. A wave crests occasionally. Hands roam and explore, the desert of the skin, hills and brushing softly past peaks. Oh...so...softly. 

Making you watch my face while I cum most intimate and terrifying thing that I can think of. Commanding that you don't take your eyes off the way that your body being close to mine can bring about such an intense pleasure. Consuming pleasure. 

How can I fight with that? I'm not even gonna waste my energy. I'm just gonna ride along the bliss. 

 

A Collection of Moments

C F Am F - DGBmG

Thought to open my heart

Do you come a la carte

I don't know if I can handle the whole thing

Maybe we can go slow

Like the age of the radio

Sense each other gently from both near and far

A moment is never a moment until it is

It cannot be captured or faked or missed

You cannot hold it up in a heist

For it is a moment and it comes by surprise

Slid your fingers in my mouth

it was a moment

And then when we kissed 

it was a moment (again and again)

And then I let you touch me on my most sensitive parts

and there were many moments which my mind has marked with hearts

It was a moment, a collection of moments

Pretty little moments

Some awkward moments

Hot, hot, hot moments

Some taco filled moments

Some moment filled tacos

More Erotic Bicycles

 He straddled my frame facing me on my saddle, feet mid-rotation, pinning me in midair. "Hi",  I whispered, his face only an inch from mine. He simply stared into my eyes. First I felt shy and looked away, then I peaked back into his irises and felt hypnotized. I could smell the beer on his breath and I wanted so badly for him to lean forward so I could take the smallest sip of him in. His sweaty scent filled my nostrils and almost made me fall off the saddle. He gripped my hips with his hands, holding me in place. I felt my vulva pulse in the cutout of the Brooks C19 carved. Holding me steady brought his face even closer and I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He slid his hands up my back and tried to move his body closer, but my knees got in the way. We giggled and I parted my knees while he kept kissing me and making my head spin with hormones. His hands found their way back down to my butt and then underneath my saddle to the sensitive folds of the cutout. At first he just put his hand over the hole so I could feel the heat of it energizing my most sensitive bits. My breath caught and my pussy flexed, screaming to be caressed. I moaned into his mouth and he moved his hand ever so slighted. I pressed myself towards the warm heat, but the saddle pressed back into my pelvic bones. He grinned wickedly into my eyes as he watched the desperate desire grow on my face. My hips began to rock forward and backward, my feet pressed hard into my pedals and he slid his palm gently back and forth against my bulging vulva poking through the cutout. I leaned forward with my head on his shoulder for support, my hips taking over with a mind of their own. I buried my face in his neck as I came and moaned loud enough that he looked embarrassed that someone might notice us. 

On Kink: Humiliation

     In this video by the channel Loving BDSM (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xklimaaSjKE), Kayla and JB discuss erotic humiliation, also known as humiliation play or degradation. Something that stood out for me that Kayla pointed out is humiliation is difficult to define because what individuals find humiliating can vary dramatically. This highlights the intimacy of having the knowledge of what feels humiliating to folks in your social group. 

    I recently was told by a new lover that one of their flaws in relationship is that they can say very mean and cutting things to their partner. While they are working towards not doing this, it has become a force of habit that is difficult to change. Due to reading Existential Kink by Elliott, by the next day I had the idea that perhaps it was something to lean into and use in our play together. 

    What I didn't realize at the time was that this is a form of power exchange. The amount of power that someone holds just by knowing what creates humiliation in another person is very intimate. The kind of safety that humiliation play requires takes time to foster and will potentially be a part of my play with my lover at a later date. Until then I am delving into other people's experiences so I can learn as much as possible to do it safely.

    Ms. ElleX (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLAwDh_GQDQ) reads a followers questions about humiliation play and responds with love. Elle points out that when we are emotionally shutting down during a scene that it's important to pause and take a break. Plowing through our discomfort and dissociating is not helping us to fully allow ourselves to enjoy the experience. She brings up the concept of compare and despair reminding us that our sexuality is a buffet that we can pick and choose from, it's not about comparing what we like to those around us. 

    While I'm tempted to explore what causes me humiliation in this post, I want to acknowledge that it is not safe to share with just anyone what causes me humiliation because I cannot control who's hands this information might fall into. Protect yourself, share with safe people.

    Within the bounds of consent, there are no 'correct' choices when it comes to play and sexuality

Crying cryaing cring

 Cry! Cry if you need to. There's something special on the other side. A relief, a reveal, a moment of peace. You have to let go in order to let it happen. Can you let go of control? Cause that's what it's going to take. You're going to have to let go and see what happens. 

At first it's gonna feel real ugly. Like you're too much. Like it's all too much. Maybe you make some unusual noises and, even if you're lucky and no one ridicules you, then you'll have a vulnerability hangover. Wondering why those, actually innoculous, faces were so judgement of your woes.

Because when I cry it's usually a buildup of things so I might be surrounded by milk spilled, but ultimately the well is much deeper.

Then it gets a little easier. I have started to trust that I can let go and stop crying when I'm done. I don't have to feel trapped in it. It's like opening a release valve just a little and then having the power to close it back up again. It doesn't mean the tears aren't really, it means you opened yourself up to the person in front of you that much and it wasn't so unsafe that you lost control. 

As a counsellor I allow my eyes to get misty and sometimes a stray tear is released. I don't feel ashamed, I model that it's okay to feel. It's scary and it's intense but it brings us closer to the meaning of life. To the purpose of existence. 

So I understand our conundrum.

Do we want to feel close to the purpose of existence? Is it comfortable over there? Is it kinda exhausting and, worst case, what if I feel nothing??? What if I'm the one most f*ed up person who feels nothing even when I'm staring Goddess in the face. 

Then what?

The Smell of the Ocean

 'I want to explore each others bodies without the intension of orgasm or penetration', she told him looking him directly in the eye. She noticed a split second expression but couldn't interpret it and her thoughts were interrupted as he nodded his head in response. Her inner thighs immediately began to tingle and she suddenly became very aware of her pelvis and nipples. Her breathing slowed and her eyelids grew heavy as she let out a sigh. 'Well?, she asked. 'What's on the menu?' His eyes glittered and he grinned as he pressed his body into hers and pushed her down on the bed. Lying on top he whispered in her ear that she didn't say anything about sucking on her nipples. Her eyes widened and her breath caught as she wiggled beneath his weight feeling his erection pressing into her thighs. 'I need a moment' she protested in response and he slid off of her and held her while they breathed together. After a few moments she pushed her butt into his crotch and wiggled it and he grabbed her top hip and ground himself into her soft tush smelling her hair and the swirl of their scents combining. She turned onto her back and looked at him and they gazed into each others eyes shyly for a moment before relaxing into it and enjoying the sensation of looking into the centre of the universe. He leaned in to kiss her watching to see if she turned away even slightly. As she leaned back to meet him he pulled her close to crush her mouth with his awkwardly at first but as they breathed and found a rhythm it became fiery and their bellies felt full of energy. They stopped to catch their breath and soon began to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Feeling a sense of calm and reassurance. As they slowly parted ways that evening an energy lingered in the air. Something was stirring and waiting to be birthed. 

An Ode to Aurora

I am unsure how I’m feeling there’s a lot going on in my mind and my body. Am I comfortable am I safe am I good enough? Who is this member of the family that appeared out of nowhere. What is life what is death is there a connection? My mind explodes on this page not going nowhere anywhere where am i? I’m angry I’m sad I’m confused I’m what I’m. I wish…what is there to wish for when I can’t remember which way is up? All I can do is sing until I cant anymore and the desire leaves me completely dry empty where did it go? A crusty crust around me protecting me from the muffled activity around me hovering wondering how we all fit together. No one knows. Glances are exchanged. Feelings are felt, some of them voiced, others echoing in chambers of minds…sometimes…trailing. Off. 

Others come booming back and if you clench your jaw, tighten your throat then by the time they make their way out they are louder then intended, wide eyed audience making them even louder, tender feelings exploding all over the room. Who’s are who’s? Who’s are who’s? Days later still sorting the feelings into piles of ‘keep’ and ‘don’t keep’. Wondering where the time went.

Yes time, thyme, tie ‘em. What is time? Is it worth even going into? This currency of our energy with its exchange rates and unpredictability :/ I thought I would have the ‘time’. I lost track of the ‘time’. Ah Father Time. But how many people can raise their hands and say… “My father is a good man.” I hope more than I can. I feel like I’m betraying him. But some things are unforgivable. Aren’t they? 

Forgiveness is for thyself. What is worse than betrayal? Forgiveness, does that mean I stop loving him? Was my love for him the only thing that connected us. His love feels far away, but it exists. What if I stopped caring? Would his love need to grow as mine waned? Or would our connection disappear completely. Would I have to feel guilty? I don’t want anymore uncomfortable feelings over this. Can’t I be done with it? Will it still hurt the moment that I die?

 

The M U N D A NE

 Sometimes I'm tired of my mind. I've started slipping back into that mentality that if I only meditated more often then everything would better. I can't tell if it's true or not. I find playing music quite meditative as well as riding bikes, but I still feel like I'm struggling. Effort. Struggle. This is a difficult moment. Only the moment because there was a moment that I wasn't struggling in and I missed it, it passed me by and I was busy remembering the hard moment before it so I got stuck in a loop.

So in this new refreshing moment I am calm, I am well, I am peaceful. I am well liked. I am well loved. I am SEXY! I am sexual and free. I fit in. I love the things I do: my job, my house, my hobbies. I'm surrounded by care and it exists within my mind as well. My mind is constantly thinking of new ways to care for me and to bring me joy and love. 

It's true. Both of these paragraphs are snapshots of my mind. 

What really boggles me is the many facets of existence and the elusiveness of it's creator. I want to believe and have faith, to dedicate my life....my very life to something, anything, everything? I want a meditative peaceful state just knowing. Literally being. I think that's the ultimate service to our creator. Being in each moment experiencing the depths of pleasure and pain and vulgarity of life.

The message that continues to flash through my head over and over is that the mundane is the greater part of the entirety of our experience. It is the mundane that we miss when someone is gone. It is the mundane of our routines that we grieve in the face of novelty. M U N D A NE

Why is this my message lately? What? What do you want from me Goddess? 

Burn Out

Experiencing some amount of burn out appears to be an inevitable part of being a counsellor so it's not so much about how to avoid it rather than how to recognize it's happening and address it sooner than later. I notice that I'm burning out when I stop feeling passionate about school. I know I'm passionate about school as a fact so when it feels like I am not I eventually realize that it's a symptom rather than reality. 

Another signal is general irritability. I can especially notice this when I interact with my partner and things that I usually find annoying but manageable feel like things I need him to immediate change and address about himself. This is challenging because it results in me expressing myself in a way that feels disrespectful and mean which results in extended shame and discomfort on my part. We have discussed how to navigate this part of me and it's still a work in progress, but at least it's not a secret.

A third symptom that I recognize is general fatigue. I noticed this morning that even though I had a very good sleep last night that I still felt that sensation of burning relief when I closed my eyes. Ahhhhh, sweet burning relief. I thought I was well rested, but this helped me recognize that I needed more than one night of restful sleep. 

Highly distressing situations take several days or even weeks to move through even if it might be easy to ignore the residual effects. I'm really trying to lean in to paying attention to my body and what it needs to tell me about what's happening for me unconsciously. There are signals that I have overlooked in the past that can help me process what is going on so that it doesn't need to be stored for future analysis. 

Essentially I have recognized that I no longer want to 'hold on' to experiences that don't serve me. I don't want to live in fear. I want to recognize that shitty interactions occur, don't need to be the norm, and I am resilient and strong so I'm able to live through them without too much suicidal ideation. Some, but not too much. At this point, I have enough folks in my life that I can tell if I'm feeling suicidal and I know they understand. By sharing it and not keeping it as a shameful secret, it passes more quickly and doesn't burden me as heavily.

I got some time off work as a result of experiencing burn out and I thought that my days off would be filled with catching up on school. Wrong I was, there were many other important things that I needed to do in order to catch up on taking care of myself which included doing nothing that felt 'productive'. Making time to experience the moment and whatever it brings is essential to my mental wellness. It can be really hard to value empty space in my calendar to the point of safeguarding it. Having a bit more time for now allows me to understand just how precious it can be.

The daily struggle

 Sometimes I feel fucking crazy, like the world owes me a big apology. That they're all out to get me and I'm just a sitting duck waiting for folks to disrespect me, diminish me or find covert ways to manipulate and hurt me. It's a terrible state of mind and one I'd rather not take responsibility for, but it's a common theme in my life and no matter where I live this sense of being doomed does not go away.

I know that the more I own it, the more I can dismantle this harmful belief system and yet it is extremely painful to approach and love this part of myself. It is quite ugly and prickly and selfish as hell. Yet she is inside me and rejecting her, rejects me. 

I'm in pain.

A lot of pain.

It is my burden to carry and ask for help with if I need it. 

SO I keep asking for help from trusted friends. Asking them to know this part of me, hopefully not take it personally because I know that our relationship won't last because this part of me wants so badly to be alone so I don't have to worry about losing connection. It is easier to have none than to have some and have to constantly worry about the loss of it. It feels very real. 

But I slog through daily conversations about miscommunication and me taking things personally, over and over and over and over and over and over. Because I grew up being gaslit about my own reality and I don't know what is real and that was implanted in my brain at a young age. 

I keep showing up for myself, reparenting myself, journaling, going to counselling, meetings, moving my body when I'm not super in the mood. Everything I can to...just...stay...sane. 

Nothing 'works' if the goal is to become a different person, because I will never be anyone other than myself. But these things do keep me sane-ish. 

So I keep slogging along and sometimes it doesn't feel like work, sometimes it's even fun. Sometimes I'm motivated as hell! Sometimes I'm joyful and grateful and free. 

But it won't last, it doesn't last, it comes and goes. Up and down. 

One day at a time.

ScatterBrained

 Right now I'm in the midst of a move. Moving out of my place of 3.5 years and into a friend's for a week only to move across the continent and to another country. Thank you dual citizenship! I'm having trouble focusing, I feel like I haven't slept even though I had a very good sleep, I'm trying to keep on top of my meditation and exercise practices as well as keep up with school. 

I want someone to hold me every day and tell me everything is going to be okay. Since I don't have one person in my life at this time dedicated enough to be that person, I enjoy a smattering of different people holding this kind of space for me and my spiritual connection to maintain my sanity. I am very lucky to have these connections.

Before I had the skills to develop close healthy connections with others, I relied on enmeshed connections with one individual at a time. These connections felt affirming at times, but sometimes kept me hostage when they weren't going well. Obsessive thinking, rumination and feelings of being out of control. 

Now that I'm in recovery, I have diversified my social landscape and I have many people to lean on so that no one person has the pressure to support me at any particular time. I sometimes feel like life would be easier if I did, but ultimately it is not in the bigger picture. Ultimately, no one person can meet my many needs. 

I have no more needs than the average person. Many needs is what we all have whether we're ready to admit it or not. I still struggle to admit it at times, but it's always less effort if I take a risk and ask someone to meet my need then ruminate about not getting it met however that might manifest. It could show up as me feeling resentful towards someone for unknowingly not meeting a need of mind or towards myself for being so needy. One thing I've learned from my counselling work is that there is no such thing as being 'needy'. The feeling of desperation is a reasonable response to not having had our needs met in the past.

Desperation is another concept that I've been meditating on. It is like the biggest ew for most people and yet we all know what it feels like to be desperate in a variety of ways. There is nothing wrong with feeling desperate. There can be trouble if I allow myself to act out my desperate feelings with others, unless the other is someone who is able to not take it personally, recognize it for what it is and continue to love me. What an awesome feeling this is.

Everything is going to be okay. I got this. One day at a time. Hysterical is Historical. Let go and let god. The next right thing. God Pause. Check in with my guidance. Breathe, don't forget to breathe.

Sexual Assault

 I'm feeling enraged due to a recent sexual assault by my current partner. Even pairing those words partner and assault in the same sentence brings me to my knees in disgust and agony. I am trying to understand the larger social context of these actions, but it only further enrages me and leaves me feeling generally unsafe. 

I feel like what transpired was an enactment of trauma and I would like try to explain it away but I am very much harmed in this circumstances and I cannot ignore it. I am also frustrated because the amount of healing I have done leaves me available to experience the emotions associated with this violence more quickly instead of numbing out for a longer period of time. Though I am in an enormous amount of emotional pain, I recognize that if I didn't feel these feelings now, then I would likely feel apathetic and experience suicidality at a later date where I'd be unable to pinpoint the potential cause.

Deep breathe. I am angry about the assault and I am angry that other experiences of assault are also arising in my mind. I am angry that I am aware that assault is most likely to occur from someone you are close to and I still could not have expected or predicted it. I am angry that I don't know what to do. I am angry that I'm afraid to tell people and I'm angry that when I have told people they have responded with emotions that allowed me to access the seriousness of what happened.

I am angry that I feel like I want to protect my partner. I am angry that I want to explain their actions away as if it somehow makes things better. I am angry that there is no blueprint for how to handle this. How am I supposed to deal with being assaulted by a partner? Ghost them? That does not feel useful to me. Then I do not feel an opportunity to be heard by the very individual that harmed me. How could they have been so careless with my body? With my emotional well being? Why did I let someone unsafe into my sacred world? How was I fooled? Are we all traumatized and unsafe people?

I believe we both felt a pressure to have sex. We had been dating for over 3 months and it felt like 'time'. Obviously neither of us were ready and this concept of time was outside of ourselves. It can't only be up to me to name I'm not ready though. He did say as much a few times, but I don't know if I didn't listen carefully enough or if he stopped feeling sure. I recognize that often there is a combination of factors occurring. 

My chest hurts, my throat hurts, my head, my stomach, my sense of motivation is gone. I'm having trouble caring for myself, grocery shopping, feeding myself properly. I feel a desire to isolate, skip work, drown in Netflix. 

I've tried moving, talking, dancing, not moving, meditating. Really anything to relieve the suffering. Nothing is going to take it away. Perhaps time?

Is emotional upheaval an inevitable part of close romantic relationships? Does it ever get to be easy? Will I ever heal enough to enjoy myself and relax?

What is sex?

 What is the significance of sexual intercourse? Does it mean anything special to me? It feels like it's supposed to be an important experience and I can't quite grasp why. Why isn't oral sex or digital sex just as significant? In some ways they're more intimate because you're surrendering yourself to the pleasure giver and allowing yourself to fall into a very vulnerable state.

Sex changed a lot when I stopped using alcohol in combination with it. Alcohol speeds everything up, it erases all the emotions and awkwardnesses that make sex so intimacy and bonding. Without the alcohol, there's so much space to connect. Moments of eye contact, calming of thoughts, sensations, sounds, luxury in the moment. 

I want to feel 100% enthusiastic about who I let enter my vagina. I'm not confident in myself to make those decisions sometimes because I haven't always made the best ones. Those bad choices can really haunt you though. Stick in your mind. I have done a lot of work to release the pain of them. Perhaps they are a faded photograph. 

I love dicks. I love how hard they get and how fun they are to play with. They kind of remind me of hilahila, which is a thorny grass that closes when you touch it. It feels alive. Making a penis hard reminds me of touching the grass and making it close. X) Penis fun.

Tomorrow I'm going to have fun with a penis. No expectations other than that and my body will feels some beautiful pleasure.

Why nonmonogamy?

 I recently read that it's important to know why you want to engage in nonmonogamy if it is a lifestyle choice that you have selected. Apparently it gives you something to reflect upon when you're struggling through the more challenging feelings that might come up in this dynamic. So here goes it:

I am choosing to be nonmonogamous because I feel that it is something that I have been naturally drawn to as I've explored romantic connection over much of my life. I feel that it helps me challenge a sense of scarcity that sometimes comes up for me in different aspects of my life and when I felt like I was 'supposed' to be monogamous. I feel like it allows me more space to feel like the relationships I am in are truly a choice and not a default or an avoidance of being along. I feel like it allows me to explore various genders sexually and not having to be locked into being in a het- or homo- dynamic. It allows me opportunities to reach new levels of communication and emotional intimacy with partners and with myself. It teaches me about myself and how I respond to different things, what turns me on, and what I need in order to feel secure within a connection (any connection). It helps me diversify my sense of community and how I get my needs met and takes pressure off any particular relationship. 

It feels like nonmonogamy fits within my value system. The only different with me starting to use this label for myself a few months ago, is that now I'm better able to communicate with romantic partners about what is happening between us. Before I felt like I was being a lot more deceptive when I was in monogamous partnerships and even when I was just seeking partnership from a monogamous stance. I feel like I can be open about how I feel about others and when I can be open then I feel more freedom to state what my needs are and what I'm looking for in a connection with someone. 

I realize that many of these things are potentially possible in a monogamous connection and I recognize that, for me, a nonmonogamous connection feels like a much better fit. I didn't realize how much I would enjoy being openly open when I started a recent nonmonogamous connection. I know there will be challenges, just as there have been in every romantic relationship, and I know that I can weather them. This is important to me, it feels right and I feel like I have the right partner at this time to try it out with. I'm motivated, I'm excited to learn and grow, I feel safe in my current romantic connection and heck, what is life for if not to try things out?