Important to consider

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I have been on this roller coaster for almost 30 years now. My behavior/emotions right now are not really and truly tied to what is happening right now. I just do this. This isn’t rational. This isn’t carefully considered.

This is what triggering means. There are things that… send me round the bend. And I’m going to be on that trip for a bit.

That is what living in a highly traumatized body means. It means that even when I really fucking wish I were just mellow and ok and fine with what is happening sometimes I’m not.

I try as hard as I can to be ok with things. Often to the point of hurting myself because I accept things long past when they are triggering me because I’m so tired of being the whiny baby who needs everything to be all about me.

One of my friends said that I need to identify my core emotions and deal with them because I will never be able to come up with a list of rules that prevent me from feeling like this again.

The only part of that I agree with is that I can’t prevent feeling like this again.

I don’t know that I think that identifying my core emotions matters.

Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening. Nothing that is happening now should feel threatening.

Doesn’t matter. I feel like everything I have is about to evaporate. Because I am not good enough to deserve any of it.

I am not good enough to deserve Noah or anything else I have.

Because I am bad. That is what this all feels like it boils down to. If I weren’t so fucking selfish and immature and stupid and petty and bad… I wouldn’t be like this.

I have very strong feelings about how much punishment I deserve for this. That may become a problem. I feel like I am wrecking Noah’s life. I feel like I don’t let him have joy or pleasure or experiences he wants to have.

I feel like I should die so that he actually gets to live. Because I don’t know how much living he will get to do with me standing around. Because I am a contemptuous petty bitch.

I hate myself.

Who will I hurt next?

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This week the list seems to be growing by leaps and bounds.

I don’t like myself even a little bit.

I don’t like how insecure and neurotic and pathetic I am.

I think I am ruining Noah’s life and he would be much better off pursuing the laundry list of people he’s had to give up for me. They wouldn’t be the fucking asshole I am. I’m the problem. The other people he wants to date are generous, kind, and tolerant. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem. I am the problem.

Maybe I should stay home for a while. When I leave the house all I do is hurt people.

Bleeding didn’t break my suicidal ideation this month. That’s because I am such a pathetic fucker I am hurting fucking everyone.

I don’t think I deserve to have friends, let alone lovers.

I’m ready for a new mood.

I don’t know that there will ever be a time in my life when I’m not the reason people can’t have nice things.

Asymmetrical agreements

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I asked Noah questions last night about what he gets from sex, play, and dating. What he wants and what he needs. He told me a lot of things. Some of it I kinda knew. A lot of it I didn’t. In the end he said, “But the thing is, I want ____ with you more than any of that. If I do those things I won’t get to have ______ with you. It isn’t worth it.”

It’s true. If you date, Noah, you won’t get to have what you want from me. I won’t be able to give it to you. In order to share you I will have to keep you out at arm’s length.

I can share really really really well when someone doesn’t feel like mine. I’m the most generous slut ever when it comes to people who don’t belong to me.

I’m sorry Noah.

It isn’t fair. I know.

Why? Why can’t I share and have real closeness? Because I can’t. Because if you want to go see other people that’s fine but you are sleeping alone afterwards. Because I don’t want to touch you.

I don’t do that after play parties where he plays with people.

I’m an asshole.

Because I’m scared. Because I’m not very secure. Because I’m a baby. Because I can share the casual people because I don’t have any belief they will actually be in my life long-term. If they are that will be a pleasant surprise.

In order to share I have to be ok with not knowing you soon. Because if I don’t like how something is going with sharing I need to be able to walk away or I’m a mean nasty bitch. When I feel threatened I am horrible. Which is why I don’t feel possessive at all of my casual partners. It would be toxic and problematic.

But you want me to feel possessive of you. Which I do. Which means I want to scratch your face off for wanting serious alone time with someone else.

Because I’m a fucking asshole.

I’m not mad at them. I’m mad at you. I hate you for wanting that. Even though I want it. Because I’m a hypocrite and a fucking asshole.

This isn’t fair and I feel really guilty.

You can give this and I can’t.

That doesn’t seem fair at all.

In order to tolerate Noah dating I’ll need to make the garage into my bedroom and not come near him on the day of his dates because I’m mean. He doesn’t really want dating if it means I will be isolating away from him.

I’m not trying to punish you with the isolating. I’m trying to avoid punishing you. I know it doesn’t feel that way. My control is… variable.

Noah says that even though I document the kid fuck ups I don’t need to punish myself with publicly talking about every speck of what I do to him. Because he’s a grown up who has consented to this relationship and we talk seriously about when I step over the line and we keep track of it privately and he says I don’t need a public firing squad for being mean to him.

I think he is being too nice to me. I am scared of him not getting the support he deserves from friends.

I have had very blunt thoughts in my head about why I picked Noah. Of my available options in life, he really was my only chance at getting to write the specifics of the story I wanted. He was my only option who was interested in what we have now when he suddenly proposed out of the blue. He and I talked last night about what it took for him to get from what he offered when we dated initially to where we are now. It was quite a departure from established norms for both of us.

When he rattles things off I can see why he picked me. But I still don’t get, really, why I am worth so much ongoing trouble. I’m a lot of fucking trouble.

It is really hard to help me feel even a little bit secure. I’m not a secure person. Noah doesn’t just do cartwheels. He does them through flaming hoops. Suspended over water. I’m not sure how he manages.

Noah did concede that when I am not monogamous my orgasm response goes through the roof. Yes, I was doing better after the road trip. It’s true. Be fair. But not like when I’m dating. For the record: last night was awesome.

BIG NEWS! I finally started bleeding. HALLELUJAH!

I love that I went into the bathroom and after wiping I said, “Glory be!” Noah said, “Ahh, started bleeding?”

That kind of intimacy is awesome. He knows why I’d be happy in the bathroom. (Ok, I knew I wasn’t pregnant… but I was feeling paranoid. Yes I’m fucking thrilled to bleed. I knew I wasn’t pregnant because I’ve been pregnant four times. I will never ever mistake that feeling.)

It bothers me to know that if Noah died I don’t think I could ever let myself be in that serious of a relationship again. I don’t like how much I control Noah through my insecurities. The only way I know to manage that is to not get that serious about someone.

Why do I think nonmonagomy is good for my sexual drive? Because we had sex most days we saw each other in November (I got home at Thanksgiving). In December we had sex 14 times. In January 7 times. In February 14, right before going off leash.

In March we had sex 22 times. In April 29 times.

That’s nonmonogamy. That’s how it works in my body. I had sex with other people on six days in April. Usually I had sex more than once per date but not every single date due to timing.

That’s nonmonogamy.

I had sex with other people on two days in March.

We are up to 9 times for May. It’s the 4th of May. Oh god. May the 4th be with you. cringe

Why so high in May already? Anyone who will do 9 straight hours of processing with me for a date deserves lots of oral sex. That tends to lead to more things. Like last night.

Normally I don’t have sex on my period. At least not for the first few days. But for some reason oral then anal was beyond ok.

I think I am remembering the book right but we are having fun with Doc and Fluff overtones because we decided that ass fucking needs to be only in the marriage going forward. I had been considering it with other folks. I already did it once with my submissive. Noah wants me to not do that again. He won’t be fucking anyone else in the ass at parties either.

We are so possessive.

Noah was the first person to successfully fuck my ass. Other people tried first but he managed to do it in a way that was good and not traumatizing and was fun. He took me to Monterey for a weekend. Got me good and drunk on port then he seduced me and just… made it work.

I’ve done it with uhm a lot of other people since that before our marriage. Only a little bit since we got married. Sounds like I’m done.

Because Noah wants that. Ok. Yes. I like the idea that you want to be possessive. Be my guest.

(Yes I know I will have to update the users guide again at some point. How about if we kinda finish negotiating first.)

We probably only have 150 or 200 or so hours to go. Cheers.

When my therapist was a Berkeley dyke she commented that Noah processes more than a Berkeley dyke and that’s just weird.

I know you pay attention to me. I feel it. Thank you.

I’ve actually come a long way. I used to hide in the corner and cry when my Owner tied people up at parties. He didn’t ever have sex with them. He didn’t go on dates. I couldn’t handle having him touch other people.

I really have mellowed out. As improbable as that seems.

I am more secure.

Hilarious.

Apparently one of my friends thinks that cis-women are just too much trouble. I so am.

I’m not at a point where I feel particularly deserving of how difficult I am to deal with. I’m a lot of trouble. I take time, energy, so much attention….

I feel like a fucking vampire. I feel like I am evil. I drain people.

I want more than my share and that’s wrong.

I have this black hole inside of me and I don’t know what to do about it. I need a lot of love. I need a lot of attention. In order to be perky and cheerful I need a ridiculous amount of sex.

Like, so much that my therapist bugs her eyes out and says, “I don’t understand how you physically do that and get other stuff done.” Oh I get a lot more done when I’m taking breaks for sex frequently. It seriously fuels my productivity.

I definitely overdid it in April. I hit burnout feeling. I am feeling kinda done with people but my life is still very scheduled. It’s going to be one of those time periods when I celebrate people canceling on me and I still don’t turn anything down because I’m dumb. (Ok, I’ll turn dates down. I mean friends.)

Because I ran away from home to stretch taut the strings in my life. Folks are trying to pull at the strings and I just can’t say no to tightening those bonds.

I need you and you and you and you and you and you and you.

Why do I need all of you so bad? Because none of you have that much to offer me. And I’m a black fucking hole.

The only trouble is y’all have your own needs and this has to be a trade and that’s why I’m feeling so burned out.

I get a lot of energy from folks. I give a lot too. It’s going to be fascinating to try and regulate this so that I’m nice to Noah and the kids.

I’m not capable of figuring out how the rest of my web will look in 30 years. I know that my life will largely revolve around Noah and my kids if I don’t fuck things up. Noah wants it and Noah is demonstrably all in on making that true. My kids show every sign of being folks I will be able to have a relationship with later.

I don’t know for sure that we will live near each other. But the way Deity talks about his parents gives me hope.

There’s a juxtaposition. One of the things that probably contributes strongly to why Noah is so safe for me is because he is not melodramatically divorced from his family…but he doesn’t actually have a relationship with them. That’s broken. What exists now is mostly there because of me and my damn letters.

Deity has a very positive relationship with his family. Listening to him talk about his interactions with them is fascinating because I want that.

But I don’t think there would have ever been any possibility of my becoming part of that kind of thing as the child side at this point. I think I… I would be the problem.

I need a partner who, like me, is alone. Who needs that obsessive enmeshment because that is what we have in this life.

But I want to be the parents for that.

And I want side pieces. Cause I’m a selfish asshole. No, because when I have side action I want to fuck for five hours straight when my kids aren’t home. Ok, not straight. We can take breaks. Cumulatively. In between talking about intense and overwhelming topics that most people never want to talk about at all.

Yes. That.

I want that. Someone who has the time and energy to spend most of the rest of their life obsessively fucking me. Because they don’t have that much else really… pulling their attention away. Yup. I want that.

I have that.

I am so lucky.

I don’t feel like I’m isolating him because he only sees his friends because I make him go. I push him to schedule trips with friends. I suggest people for him to email and go visit. I am forcing him to create his own web.

Because if I break he will need to be caught.

And my web, while wonderful… wouldn’t be perfect at that. It is shaped for me.

I don’t really want him to be alone. But it makes it a lot easier for us to enmesh the way we do that we don’t have families who try to hold us into an image of who we are. We are free to create our relationship without giving a shit about approval.

That’s…

That’s a big thing.

I might have different feelings about a lot of what we do if we did. I don’t know. I can’t know.

The problem with all this desire to go out to parties together is babysitting. But! I’m arranging split custody stuff with a friend. Because that’s how this is going to work. The kids need folks to be with all night long on a regular basis and this is how I can arrange this. And my friend needs some damn support.

Four kids is often easier than two. It’s weird. They are very self contained. There are times when it feels like being a circus ringmaster and I’m so grateful they get to go home.

I’m keeping them two nights this week. My friend kept my kids for three nights in a row. While her kids were puking. Yes honey, you can rest.

Thank you so much for giving me space to ride that whole emotional roller coaster. I’m really glad Noah and I got to talk for probably 24 hours in that time period. We are… talkers. We have a lot to process right now.

God I love this man.

Taking breaks from the emotional processing and bonding for vicious sex just seems like, yeah… that’s what I signed on for.

Today I am setting up a guest bedroom for a bit. Pam could use a place to sleep. We have a weekend long guest coming soon. Another friend spends the night sometimes and can’t crawl over the tile work. It’s going to suck because it is in the play room with the window removed but the garage doesn’t work right now. At least it is warm! And Noah has one more date on the books. I’m not going to be an asshole.

Damnit.

I don’t know why I have this thing about not canceling but I do. Once something is scheduled… canceling is… whoa. I don’t do that.

It hurts people when you make plans with them and don’t keep them. That… that hurts. It gets their hopes up and then makes them feel like they aren’t that important. I don’t like to do that. I try very hard to meet the expectations I set. Which is really complicated for someone who is as moody as I am. Heh. When I negotiate for weeks then wake up in a mood…

Heh.

With casual people I can get it up. I can take on a role for a limited date and do what I said I’d do. I know that in the long run I’ll be happy with myself.

With Noah that’s… shit I can’t do that all the time.

Ok, here’s a weird sticky wicket about why I’m less inclined to ask Noah to cancel the date he has scheduled. That person… I’ve played with. I’d uhm really like to play with her again some day. Which uhm yeah. Not to mention that she is a very close friend who has been present at some of the absolute most intimate moments of my life.

Complicated.

And after his date with her we had ridiculously hot sex because I felt very comfortable fantasizing about her and we were kinda… yeah. That wasn’t awful and bad. I freaked out because they did it in her house in a way that I started juxtaposing with pictures of my kids and that made me sick to my stomach.

Because my kids go there. Ugh. Gross. No. Yuck. Bad. No.NOnonononononono

See, this is so random and fucking weird.

It isn’t that I object to Noah having a sexual relationship with her. I really don’t.

I wish I understood what my boundaries were. That would make this so much easier.

Near as I can tell the only way to figure out my boundaries is to keep fucking up and crossing them so that I can course correct and stop doing that bit. That’s the only thing that has ever worked.

Speaking of which, it’s 6:30. Time to go on duty. Bye internet. I love you. Talk to you later.

Not enough.

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It occurs to me that part of my trigger around Noah dating is probably related to the fact that my mom was incapable of loving more than one child at a time. I was literally sent to live with other people over and over and over because I was too demanding of her attention when she needed to focus on another child.

That’s not all of it. But it factors in.

If someone I love a lot loves people other than me… I’m going to be sent away. Because I will never be able to behave good enough to deserve being loved at the same time.

I sure make that true, don’t I?

A small point.

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Noah says that I’m lying about something and he’s right. I bitch about not getting off at all with monogamy… but that had already changed when I got back from the road trip. Things were doing lots better.

It’s bullshit that I want to fuck around just because I can’t get off. I do get off with Noah. Not every single time without fail. But there are times when he gets me off and off and off and off.

I shouldn’t make it sound like he doesn’t at all. There were a few years in the breeding period that sucked but I need to not hold that against him. It wasn’t about him. It was about my body. And it’s over.

Don’t be an asshole to Noah about that anymore. Let it go. That’s not ok to hold on to.

Be more honest, Krissy. Don’t conflate old problems and new problems. That’s not nice. That doesn’t help things get better.

post-therapy rambling

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My shrink wants me to think about this picture when I’m trying to figure out what is fair for rules for me and Noah. She reminds me that having a traumatized brain/body means I am probably not ever going to be able to have the same limits as other people. Mine will just be different. I can feel like shit about that or I can get on with my life. Those are the options.

Noah and I don’t need the same things. I feel weird about that. The things that make me feel so scared I could puke don’t bother him. The things that bother him the most… I don’t notice.

In my head someone has to be wrong. Is it Noah or me? Of course it is me. That’s… just how things go.

She had some things to say about some of the stuff that has been bothering me that I don’t want to write down but gosh I hope I remember. Why don’t I want to write it down?

Well if I told you that I might as well just write it down and get the consequences.

Consequences suck.

I’m not going to write much. I have sick kids here. That’s ok with me. Sick kids = snuggly kids.

But I have a lot to think about. How much anger is ok? How am I allowed to react to my anger? What steps should I take to be appropriate? It’s all so complicated.

Selfish asshole

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I’ve said for a while that I’m not interested in being polyamorous. I also say that I’m not good at being monogamous. These are still both true. Noah and I have been talking and talking and talking. We are both wicked insecure. We both have a lot of abandonment issues. It makes sense given that neither of us have relationships with our families of origin.

We both feel kind of at sea in the world. We both have a hard time feeling truly connected, wanted, important. This isn’t a problem that one or the other of us have.

I’ve been hurting Noah. He’s been hurting me. I kinda feel like we need to do that sometimes just so that we have to stop and scream LOOK AT ME. STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING.

Because over time we take one another for granted. We try to be grateful. We try to be aware and appreciative but it’s hard year after year. Sometimes we need to go do some asshole stuff so we can apprciate the fact that mostly we aren’t assholes to each other.

Last post I thought I’d have three dates a month and Noah would have one. Noah doesn’t really like what I will have to do to deal with that one date a month without being mean to him. Because I would have to take steps to deal with my feelings and not abuse him. I would need to create a lot of space around myself so I don’t lash out.

Because I would want to lash out.

Noah dating triggers so many insecurities for me. I don’t like it.

This is weird to me because I don’t freak out about him playing with friends at parties I’m at. That doesn’t bother me and I don’t god damn know why.

But Noah wanting to go out on a date with someone else… One on one time where he can pay attention to them because they are special…

I’m a fucking asshole.

Because I sure don’t mind me dating. Uhm, we decided I need to go down to two dates in a month. Because yeah. We aren’t cancelling May. Because that’s asshole shit. But starting in June we are going to… not be going out with other people so much. Because yeah. We may not be perfect at monogamy but spending as much time together as possible is really what we both want from life. If we feel that way we should act that way.

Going forward I am very happy about the boundary: no sex in places our kids go (other than our house). That feels… like a thing for me.

I’m trying hard. I’m trying to figure out what wants to bend and what needs to stay rigid and…

This is all hard.

But Noah doesn’t want me to hate him. Not even a little. Not even for a little while. So yeah. Him dating is complicated. Because I do hate him when he dates. It’s terrible. It feels awful. But it’s there. I fucking hate him. He is pretty confident I wouldn’t be able to compartmentalize that long term. Maybe he’s been looking at me for a while.

And hearing about his dates makes me physically ill.

So yeah. How much dating should we do? Maybe not so much.

Is this fair? I don’t think so. But life isn’t fair.

I kinda want to list all the things we talked about. All the levels of insecurities. But the thing is, talking about that has the possibility to hurt my friends and I don’t want to do that. I’m not insecure because of the people involved. The people involved being this safe actually makes it that much harder to feel this way.

All of the people involved are wonderful, safe, kind, considerate and loving. I’m the asshole.

I’m so sorry.

I spent a long time talking to the Professor yesterday and he tried very hard to talk me into thinking that it is ok for me to get angry with Noah. I don’t feel like it is ok. I feel like it is disgusting and shameful because he deserves better than that from me. He really does. He is my whole world.

Even if I like fucking other people. Noah is everything.

Yes we still have a lot of conversations ahead of us about play. The intensity thing is going to continue to be a … topic… for a long time to come.

Sunday and Monday were so awesome. Thank you K for letting me have this. Saturday was… mixed. Mostly good. (Thanks Deity.)

My feelings are not because of the people Noah plays with. My feelings are because I’m neurotic, insecure, and I have very little intrinsic self worth. This is not anyone else’s fault. This is my shit. And it’s shit.

Noah and I talked a lot about whether or not it is easier for me for him to date strangers or friends and…

It is easier to have him date friends. It isn’t that I think anyone he has seen has any desire to be a homewrecker or a problem or hurt me or anything like that.

My fear isn’t rational. My fear isn’t based on anyone doing anything wrong. But it is intense, all consuming and there. I have to act like it is there and deal with it. Or it leaks into my life and I am a seriously problematic person.

I can’t keep verbally abusing Noah. I just can’t. Which means I need to take steps to make sure that stops. It isn’t something that comes up very often. I think this is the third time we’ve had to work on this issue in about 12 years.

When I feel hatred like that… I am fucking mean.

Yeah. I know exactly what to say to make you feel like shit. I’ve watched you for years. Yes. I can take you apart with a verbal scalpel. Yup. No problem.

I need this to be the last time I ever talk to Noah like that. It just can’t happen again. He deserves and has earned better from me. Which means I need to be careful about the situations I put myself in. Because when I’m that angry… I need to put physical space between me and Noah. Because I’m a problem.

And I don’t handle him dating. I feel really ashamed of myself.

Noah wants me to be open, vulnerable, transparent, and relaxed. I can’t be any of those things when I hate him.

I just can’t.

Which isn’t to say that I think him dating deserves me hating him. It doesn’t.

I am such an asshole.

I’d rather be told, “No really this ‘I don’t want to follow rules’ shit is over. Follow some fucking rules” than be told, “Fine then I’m doing what I want.” One of those effectively reins me in. One of those means… our relationship kinda sucks. But it only effectively reins me in after I’m good and hurt and pissed.

Like the mature and responsible person I obviously am.

It isn’t that I feel I must own Noah’s cock solely and permanently. It is that… I want to be there. I don’t want to feel like I am being left so he can go find someone more interesting. Which makes me a flaming cunt for dating other people.

God I don’t like me very much.

I have no particular desire to stop seeing my submissive, Deity, Cupid, or Daddy. But if I only get to see them every other month… that I can live with. To be fair I’ll probably make damn sure I end up at parties with my submissive every month even if we don’t make dinner dates every single month.

Noah won’t let me hit him. Ok he would let me hit him. He told me so. But he wouldn’t like it at all and that feels terrible. I have absolutely no desire to hit someone who is tolerating being hit but who doesn’t like it. That’s disgusting.

I feel… like a piece of shit for wanting to date and not wanting Noah to date. I am not asking Noah to be monogamous.

I notice that he puts a lot of effort into dates with other people. We have dates if I go find an event and I go find a babysitter and I …

That hurts.

I feel selfish and terrible.

Yeah. This is who I am. I am selfish and terrible.

Limits are funny

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My code switching skills are variable. Sometimes I’m excellent. Sometimes I really suck. I have managed to compartmentalized enough that I can have wild sex in every part of my house when my kids aren’t home. That is new. For years it was behind a locked door even when they weren’t home. Noah can testify that it was wacky.

I have serious issues with sexuality and children. This is about me and it isn’t fucking rational.

I don’t want either of us to be having sex any more in places where we bring the kids. I know our house is different… whatever. I don’t care. It makes me uncomfortable. That means I have to stop having sex at the house of friends who invite the kids over. It means Noah does too.

But that doesn’t mean I have to stop going to every person’s house. But it’s an A or B choice. Sex or kids.

Some of our sex-having-friends were tightly involved with our children before sex. That makes the boundaries… interesting to figure out.

I’m having an interesting time figuring out which parts bug me and why.

Like, my kids are never ever ever ever ever going to Cupid’s house or Deity’s house. It’s just not an option. Period. Because I go there for sex.

I have a very visual memory. When I think of places I think of what I have seen there. I am an asshole about getting mental pictures of what Noah is doing.

I’m weird about how that overlaps with my kid-memories of a place.

So like… my kids have been to my submissive’s house. It was a while ago though and so that means we need to decide… is it a sex house or a kid house. Cause right now it’s time to decide.

My kids go to Daddy’s house. I won’t fuck there again.

Is it fair?

Life isn’t fair.

Someday I will just know what these boundaries are and it won’t feel so angsty. I look forward to that day.

How in the hell am I going to be a slut and a good parent. How. How. How.

In no way shape or form do I think that the path I follow is the “One Twue Way“. I think there are many ways to be a good parent.

I’m just trying to figure out how to manage me.

My emotional volatility is a real thing. It’s well documented through lots of life circumstances and events and ups and downs and unrelated situations. And to get a handle on that I picked a life where it isn’t ok to be emotional volatile so I have no choice but to god damn figure out how to be more stable. That means other peoples choices don’t need to look like mine.

Human beings are complicated systems. I’m getting my digestion in order. I’m working on sleep. I’m increasing how much sex I have and the variety because it dramatically improves my mood. Even with the odd fight.

We genuinely don’t fight often. And when we fight it is because we are both feeling insecure and threatened and we don’t know how to ask for reassurance without being kind of an asshole. I think everyone feels taken for granted sometimes.

Maybe I’m projecting.

I’m trying to get things in place for me to handle the next stage of child rearing. We are done with babies. Next year Youngest Child is going into first grade. Kiddo will be 6. Not quite time for academics… but we can see it coming. Kiddo is decidedly resisting being asked to do any academics before 7. Adamant. “Do you want to try a little?” “Nope.”

Well done kiddo. I’m proud.

But Eldest Child is teaching herself to read increasingly complicated books at a rapid rate. This month I should figure out what I need to do to get her a tour at the part-time-homeschool-through-the-district program. She’s interested for third grade. So it sounds like we are going to slide towards school instead of waiting and going all at once when she’s older.

I don’t mind.

Limits are interesting to find. She wants more consistent push now. And she wants it to be with peers in a group. I’m ok with that. I wanted to wait until she was ready. She is now. I’m completely forking ok with the amount of separation she’s asking for. I might balk if she asked for full time school. I don’t think it would go well. Part time sounds great.

It will be nice to spend more time with Youngest Child alone. That kid blows my mind all the time. The jokes. The connections. The desire to have a sunny spirit even though the child has mood swings like a mofo. This is a kid who will have a journey in life. I hope I am going to be able to be the kind of support I need to be. I’m trying.

Part of the reason we need to cut back on dating in terms of time is because we can’t date that many nights and exercise and pay attention to the kids and date each other and have friends and get alone time.

Holy crap.

We need alone time for different reasons. But we both have times when we really need time alone in a room. Preferably with our computers. Our one true love.

I see you, Noah.

Although really if I had to give up my computer or Noah I’d bin the computer without thought. Even you, oh internet, are not as wonderful as Noah. You don’t get me off like that. Speaking of which I should stop typing for the day.

Our kids were invited for an extra night at my friend’s house. So Noah left me an assignment. I’m supposed to get off 30 times. That’s hard masturbating. So I’m going to need to spend a lot of time. Sigh. Poor me. Bye.

Ok, yeah. My life is awesome. It isn’t perfect every minute. But I really don’t get to complain. Not really. I can process the parts I don’t like… but good grief.

I am where I want to be. I have support. I have friendship. I have love. I have the freedom to try things and course correct when I figure out which parts work and don’t work for me. Because it only has to work for me and Noah. Well, and the folks we go on to negotiate with. Their consent matters too.

But we have to figure out our limits and boundaries first and then negotiate from that position. Which has been tricky over the last few months because we didn’t know. I wanted to go fuck around and see what would stick. I have a better idea now.

That’s the point of trying things, right? It isn’t that you have to be committed to always doing something the same way if you try it once or twice.

Hell, even if you do something for a few years you don’t have to keep doing it that way forever. You can renegotiate.

 

Good grief I am insecure.

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You know… it would be super awesome if in some decade of marriage Noah and I got to the point of being able to say, “We need an epic 9 hour processing day because I HAVE FEELINGS” without the awful screaming. That’d be great. But this is like fight number 3? 4? 5? since we got married. So as bad as it is that we scream the way we do sometimes (and we are both assholes) it is rare and we apologize profusely and get through years of processing afterwards. So it’s not great. But it is unfortunately kinda effective?

We’ve been talking all day. It’s 5pm. We have not been apart for a solid 10 minutes today.

Yeah this whole “I don’t want to follow rules” thing is at an end. We gots rulez. Rulez and rulez and rulez.

I have this horrifying habit of not knowing where my boundaries are until I see them in the rear view mirror. This is a distinctly different problem now than it was earlier in my life because these days we are experimenting with people I have deep love and affection for. That means fucking up is way higher stakes.

There is absolutely no one involved in our lives right now who it would be ok for me to hurt with my flailing. No one.

Fuck.

That’s complicated. Because my boundaries and limits are squiggy and weird.

Like… I don’t want either of us to have a date in the house again. It’s not that I’m mad at the person who came over. I’m not. But I kinda wanted to cancel my date yesterday and stay home and mope because that was just where I was and I didn’t feel like I could because Noah had a date and… that’s not great on a lot of levels. I went to a date when I really wasn’t in the mood and I wasn’t nearly nice enough to my date and at the end I had a meltdown.

Seriously dude. Don’t ask if you need ear plugs to have sex with me. That’ll make me cry the whole way home.

I mean, I’m not overwhelmingly mad at you either. But I’m not going to be able to shake that off and go back to fun time. I can’t.

I’m really sorry that I’m so sensitive. I know I’m a baby.

But I’m 34 fucking years old and I think the chance of me getting over that hot button this decade is at zero.

Also: let’s say this plainly… I’m a selfish piece of shit. I’m dating people because without having sex with more than one person… I don’t really get off. And that *sucks*. That sucks for me and it makes me really resentful of Noah long term because he has no such trouble. I don’t know why I’m wired this way but I am. I have put a good solid college effort into trying to be compatible with monogamy and you know what… it doesn’t work. I just stop orgasming. It’s awful. This is a fact Noah and I have talked about a lot. It’s a problem.My therapist has been tracking this. It’s a problem.

But Noah isn’t having the same problem. So why in the fuck does he need to go off and date?

That’s what my selfish piece of shit self says at least.

So Noah is going to have one date a month. At a party. Because when Noah goes to our friends’ houses to have sex that means I then have feelings about going back to their house and that is not fair at all to our friends.

It isn’t that I need to be the only one touching Noah’s dick. That’s not it.

I’m weird about houses and personal space. I don’t mind him fucking people at parties. Not whether I’m there and not when I’m not. I don’t know why this works this way for me but after a couple of months of trying things this time and years of experience in the past….

I feel comfortable saying I have 0 issue with group sex with both of us (even in our house). I have a small problem with party sex I’m not involved in as far as I don’t want to sit and watch. I have a huge problem, apparently, with sex at peoples houses. Which makes me a fucking hypocrite because I don’t mind that I do it.

I was frankly shocked that Daddy fucked me. He hasn’t in over a decade. I didn’t expect that at all. I didn’t say no and I’m not upset but I didn’t go to his house expecting that even a little. We’ve had a tease relationship for over a decade. So I didn’t really stop and think about how I feel about having sex with him in a house where my children go. If I had thought about it hard in advance…

I feel very uncomfortable about the fact that Noah had sex in a house where I take my kids. I’m not mad at him or the person he had sex with. I just…

Now I’m going to think about that. And…

I rarely know what my boundaries are until I see them in the rear view mirror.

I know it doesn’t matter that they had sex and my kids go to that house once a year. It’s not a big deal.

Only it makes my stomach hurt a lot.

I have been emotionally unstable my entire god damn life. I have to take that into consideration when I decide what boundaries are appropriate for my life. It isn’t likely to just evaporate now. I need boundaries that allow me to go through life without feeling like I’m going to puke. (Especially because I just god damn started a medication that has a side effect of nausea and I need to be able to notice that.)

I don’t think anyone did anything wrong. I had not asked for any limits in any of these areas to begin with and not a single person broke a rule or was rude or bad or anything like that.

I just have these feelings. I’m not saying this is rational.

It’s really weird. I genuinely don’t mind Noah having sex at parties. It doesn’t make my stomach hurt. I kinda walk by the scene once or twice to wave and establish that everyone involved still likes everyone else and it’s cool.

God Noah playing with someone on my couch makes me cry and cry and cry and cry. That’s where I cuddle my kids.

(I’M NOT MAD AT YOU dear friend who is reading this.)

But I would be freaking out more if it had been in the bed. Yeah. Not in the house.

I had a hard time moving into this house. Noah bought this house for hunting. A whole parade of women came through here and that has been pretty hard for me. It took years before I stopped crying about just being the latest slut in the house. This is a thing.

I need it to not be in the house. I’m weird. It’s not that anyone is doing anything wrong. It’s not that I don’t want him to play with the people he’s playing with. Shit, he couldn’t pick nicer or safer or more awesome people. I really like the people he’s playing with.

I’m sorry I am such a baby.

I don’t think anyone did a thing wrong. I don’t think anyone should be in trouble or… I just had feelings I didn’t know I was going to have. Big feelings. The kind of feelings that make it hard for me to be stable and calm and normal. The kind of feelings where I cry a lot for a long time.

It’s not your fault and I’m not blaming anyone. This happens to me. This is my life. This is about me and my brain. But I need to manage it. And Noah has to live with me. He wants me to live for a long time. He has to make choices that reflect where I start melting down if he wants to keep me. Whether that is fair or not fair. What is fair?

I’m sorry I’m unstable and insecure. But that is kinda as advertised at this point.

Also: Noah and I are going to try to go to parties more often together and when we go together he is totally free to play with friends. He’s just only going to make sure he goes to one alone. This means we will only have one of us out of the house one night a week. It was really sucking having us collectively gone two or three nights in a week on dates. That just feels yucky right now. That’s too big of a change from what things have been. Hell, I haven’t been back from the road trip long enough to want that much space from Noah. Even if the dates are nice.

A lot of the kinds of trust Noah wants from me… with hypnosis and M/s in the future… that requires a level of trust that is very hard for me. I am literally not set up to be good at trusting like that. That kind of trust is broken for me.

But he wants it. Which means that the pair of us have to work on figuring out how to build it. And that means limits that may not seem “fair” because we have very different needs and very different reasons we are doing all this.

There is no fair. Just like there is no deserve.

There is what you can bear.

I feel really sad and scared. I don’t like that I need to ask Noah for these limits. But I need to if I am going to be able to build the kind of trust he wants me to build. I will not be stable with him having dates like this. I never have been. It is unlikely to start now.

These are the safest and most awesome women possible. It isn’t that I am insecure about the people.

I’m just… a selfish baby.

We are both taking a lot of comfort from the fact that even though we had a huge fight and said pretty awful things… neither of us at any point even a little bit felt like “I don’t want to be married.” The worst it got was “I need a few hours in a room away from you.”

That feels good.

We are insecure bastards. I’m glad he is finally admitting some of his points of insecurity. Much like Beyoncé, the Queen, I need him to show me that I can hurt him. So that I can stay.

Fuck that album is going to be huge in my life. Lemonade is everything. If you haven’t watched it, stop what you are doing and go watch. YOU ARE NOT DOING ANYTHING BETTER WITH YOUR LIFE. JUST DO IT.

ok?

If you’re all “But I don’t know how” come to my house and you can watch it. I bought it. I’ll watch it hundreds of times. It’s ok if you are with me for one of them.

We spent a long time talking about Noah’s place in the hierarchy of my self destructive habits. It’s good that we are honest about that.

One of our new rules is that only Noah can cut me. We had quite a day. We managed to get through our proposed desired come-in-all-holes date… which is frankly shocking given how I woke up. I didn’t think I’d be interested in sex. Then he spent all those hours talking to me and trying to figure out what we both want.

Ok yeah I’ll suck your dick. And then you can fuck my ass. Then we can take a shower. Then you can hurt me really really really a lot and then fuck my pussy. And then later we christened the first of May in the back yard.

Yup. That’s a good day.

I don’t have any fresh bruises but I have lots of old lovely bruises still fading. (God damn Cupid.) (That was meant to be in a positive sort of way not in a damn you sort of way. More like hot damn. Ahem.) Then I have lots of cuts. I have marks from the clothespins. The caning wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark. That’s ok. I got no warm up. On purpose. Because any little girl who will speak that rudely to her Daddy should get a caning with no warm up.

Meaning I asked for it.

Because man atonement is a thing. Which totally doesn’t excuse my abusive behavior.

It’s not ok to scream at people like that. So we made some specific agreements about how I am going to handle my behavior in the future when I am that upset. We don’t like the agreements we made, but we talked it out. It’s not ok to scream like that. I am less ok with it than he is. Which kinda bothers me. He isn’t mad at me for screaming at him. I think it would be easier if he were mad.

Fuck.

Why is life so complicated?

Uhm. A lot else happened. Holy shit this was an eventful day. We talked about so many insecurities and paranoias and fears and wants and hopes and needs and coping methods and possessiveness and sharing and…

My hands is done. I wrote this during meals. That’s the only time I did much other than pay attention to Noah today. It’s been an epic 14 hours of talking. Sex didn’t start happening till 12:30 or so. I’m ready to go pass out now. I took the Gabapentin like half an hour ago. I feel like I’m walking into a wall of haze…..

Things I want to work on in my behavior

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Joking about violence. That’s something that I definitely have a history of doing and this has changed for me internally and I need to change the manifestation of my behavior. I don’t want to be a hypocrite on this one. If you hear me say something… please call me on it. (Threatening to hurt my submissive isn’t the same thing. I’ll actually do it and we’ll both have a great time so… uhhh exception.)

I also seriously need to work on my language in general. I don’t mean with the swearing. I mean with the ableist, racist stuff. I’m noticing a few things I do and it… it isn’t ok. I’ve done pretty well with making my language more gender inclusive. I need to work on it more. I’m not as respectful as I want to be yet. I need to work harder. Think about what I say before I say it. Heh. That would be novel. Only if I do that… I find I’m not listening to the person as well. This is going to be hard.

Being better at being brave about asking Noah for things. It’s hard to rock the boat. I’d rather just say I don’t want rules and go act like an asshole. Sometimes I don’t know what I want and it is hard to ask. I need to find these words anyway. We have already started talking about rules. Quite a few (ugh) that are weirdly layered. I need to think about Noah’s feelings and ask for permission. This is going to be hard. But it is important.

I need to figure out how to talk to Noah about being scared of him. That’s an elephant in the middle of the room we dance around. We just can’t… deal with it yet. It is hard because I have compartmentalized that fear very well and I can have a generally loving, trusting, safe feeling relationship as long as he walks very carefully around the elephant and he has for a long time. He’s feeling sorta done with not being able to walk straight through the room and I don’t know how to evict the elephant. This will be very hard. This is going to involve a lot of crying. Fuck.

Leading a bit more with Eldest Child’s education. I’ve been super lazy lately. She’s ready for more direction and I’m not giving it. I need to be more assertive here. She wants it and I’m just… putting energy in other places. Stupid remodel.

Interrupting less. Listening to myself on the radio show was kind of a revelation. Good grief. Am I always that much of a self absorbed asshole? Oh god. I sure as fuck hope not. Because that was bad. They thought it was ok and they invited me back, but I can’t do that again. Ok yes, I do want there to be more women who can insert themselves into conversations. That doesn’t mean I need to conversationally walk all over everyone. I don’t think I’m usually that bad, but I need to work on it anyway. It was rather obnoxious. I also suddenly scream frequently and that is jarring as fuck. Sad face.

I need to do a bit of research on child development stuff because the four kids are getting together a bunch and I need to manage that more skillfully. I think I’m doing ok at helping them integrate but there is more proactive interaction I could do. I need to start. They need to be consciously taught how to interact. I’m the grown up. I get to do it. Ok. Things like: I need to teach them how to play catch. I’m the one. Ok. Get busy, bitch. You want to be where the buck stops then get off your ass and teach these kids how to play a game together where they have to look at each other and communicate and build physical skills. Yes, every one of the uncoordinated geeks would rather stay inside and read. You are the grown up. Lead. Most of us don’t naturally want to be healthy. We have to be taught. Modeling is the way. Just do it motherfucker. (Clearly I’m motivated here.)

I also need to be more serious about gardening any day now. The remodel was supposed to be done already so I could be gardening more. Fuuuuuuuuck. I need to weed so much. The grass seeds are almost ripe and I’m going to be screwed. My nice gardener can’t get the lawn mower to the back because of the god damn bath tub. UGH!

I apparently planted a few too many potatoes this year. A large chunk of my crop will be… potatoes. And that’s ok. I like eating them. I have a small yard. It’s easy for one plant to dominate. One year I had a sea of tomatoes. That was kinda fun. But canning 60 lbs of tomatoes got a bit old. It took over two years to eat all the fuckers. (Because we also ate 20-30 lbs of tomatoes fresh and we got over saturated.)

Food glorious food. I will learn how to grow it.

I want to work on running and my posture. I’m not running and that’s a problem. I should run to and from class today. I am now at a point where running does a lot to loosen up my muscles and when I don’t I hurt and that sucks. This is like that bullshit I did with high heels where I deformed my calf for years. Only this is better for me. I hate running. Why did I pick up this hobby? Now I pretty much have to continue. Fuuuuuuuck. I want to be back at a half marathon by Christmas. I really like how I feel when I’m exercising like that. And by extension I feel like shit when I slump. But I slump most of the time. Good grief Krissy. WTF?

I need to count out pills again because I should start this round of nutrition shit and get into the habit of taking the meds I’m starting. This thought makes me want to cry. I’m so sick of pills. Will this be my whole life? At least I have taken so many that I no longer throw up when I try to swallow pills. Uhm. Yay for exposure therapy. Or Boo. I think boo.

That’s enough. Frowny face.

Drug report: Gabapentin

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I took 2 pills at 8pm. I was in bed and asleep before 9. I woke up at least two times but I think three. Noah says I was not very asleep past 1:30. But I feel like the fact that I was able to get back to sleep at all past 1:30 was pretty good.

I had severe pain in my chest. I don’t know how to describe it. Words are hard. It was in the top left hand side of my ribs. It felt like several muscles around my ribs started throbbing and burning and I don’t know what. Where you can grab the ribs and put your hand around them on the top part, right under my boob.

Chest pain is a worrisome side effect. But I’m not 100% sure this isn’t part of Cupid bruising the shit out of my ribs. (Yes, you bruised the shit out my ribs.)

I’m not sure how I feel about this med. I’m not sure I should take a daytime dose today because I have to drive. But I don’t have to drive for many hours afterwards. I’m worried because it is my first day. I maybe will wait till tomorrow when I don’t have to drive. I have literally no idea what daytime impact this will have on me.

I really don’t want to die on accident because a med made me not-alert. So yeah. I’ll wait till tomorrow to find out how this feels during the day.

I’m happy with the sleep. It isn’t my best ever but it is definitely in the better half.

Questions

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Do you know what I think is funny? When someone I’m sleeping with tells me that I’m a selfish slut for saving hand spoons for jilling off instead of immediately answering their questions. That’s hilarious.

Also: I’m quite thrilled that Cupid says it is ok to answer questions he asks me here. Good. Noah will like reading this too.

“I could be meaner in where and how fast I punch, but I don’t have a lot more strength.”

I feel like I live for statements like that. Fuck yes. Good. I’m glad to feel where that is. This is going to be a beautiful play relationship if that is as hard as you can punch me. Because you won’t be frustrated that my limits are short of yours. Yes, you can hit me with nastier toys and wear me out faster than you but it is much hotter to wear us both out.

I love it when the rev limits are similar. It’s so satisfying. Can I take more hitting than that? Yes. I still haven’t really cried. But the bruises on my thighs tell me I don’t need to be whiny about not getting harder. Yeah. That’s hard enough to be incredibly satisfying. Like satisfying.

[I wrote all that before the radio show. Now that Noah and I have had quite a week of talking about how much he doesn’t like it that I want to play with other people heavier than I want to play with him… I feel like it is important to point out that Noah hits harder than Cupid. I’m thrilled to hear Cupid say he can’t punch harder than that because I very rarely can max someone out. Usually I have to cry uncle. And then, if it’s Noah, he feels sad he didn’t get to max out his rev limit but jeezus I can’t take that. It hurts too much. Which is complicated.]

Why is being hit so satisfying? I don’t know why. I just know that when I have to lower my pants to go to the bathroom and I see blooming bruises I want to stop doing chores and go masturbate. (I usually don’t because I spend all day with my kids and that would be rather inappropriate.)

I’m glad that Noah has been able to see the last two times I played with Cupid. [Well, honestly I have slightly more mixed feelings now. But hopefully it’ll go on to being just good.] It’s lead to interesting questions about my level of being overwhelmed. Post-kids for quite a few years there I told Noah “no intensity”. I needed him to be… really gentle. Like shockingly gentle for me. It was a uhhh hard adjustment for both of us. Him because it meant trying to learn new techniques, me because it fucked with my self-identity. What is this I can’t do intense bullshit?!

The road trip just reset things and I don’t feel like I understand why. It was starting to build before then? But something about being that kind of independent and just doing stuff really changed how I felt in my body. I want to feel things again.

Parenting has been fascinating. I’ve worked hard on learning a lot of boundaries around intensity and sex and gentle handling. I didn’t have many of those skills pre-children. Integrating who I want to be with who I already am has been jagged and uneven. I feel like pieces of who-I-was are creeping back and reintegrating those things is complicated.

I was thinking earlier that part of the reason that going to more intense space with Noah is terrifying is because of how the rape went. I’m not upset with Noah. But that… broke something in me. In December it’ll be ten years. It still impacts me. That’s… that’s fucking scary. Noah is really strong and really intense.

I don’t know how many more things like that I can take in this life from my safe person. Which makes really intense edge play with Noah scarier than it is from anyone else. Which is becoming stickier and more complicated and harder by the day.

If someone else fucks up and breaks me… Noah can fix me. What do I do if Noah breaks me? That… that scares the ever loving shit out of me. It’s not fair in a whole bunch of ways and I know that. It means I kinda cock block him from a lot of stuff both of us might enjoy because I’m scared.

It means he has no idea that I like being overwhelmed… a little. Because when he overwhelms me it doesn’t go to 11 it goes to 16 and I just… can’t.

Because I can’t let him overwhelm me like that. Because if something breaks I have no safe place to go to get away from it. Noah is my home.

I’m not sure what this will mean. I think I understand more about why my play with my Owner often left me feeling so shitty afterwards. I had no safety to come back to. When I felt like I was drowning in fear and anxiety I was supposed to shut up and go back to serving his life.

I can do that in a limited sense as long as there is space for me to be nonfunctional for long periods of time. When I lived with my Owner I had… a lot of alone time. I was usually alone in the house for 10+ hours at least three days a week. I had time to go hide in the bathroom and cry by myself. I don’t have that kind of space in my life right now. I must function. Every day. All day. Despite shitty mental illness stuff I have made it so I have a life structure where I must function.

Home schooling my kids is kind of my way of forcing myself to have no choice but to deal with a lot of my problems. I have to get up at a reasonable time and interact and be cheerful and explain things and help them with things and … be a person who takes responsibility. That’s my life. I want it and I like it, but I didn’t have that kind of frame without them. I spent a lot more time being… well… a huge asshole.

Being hit the way Cupid hit me at the last party, till I’m having trouble standing because I’m in so much pain… that feeds me and I don’t know why. That kind of being overwhelmed. Being beaten until I really can’t take a lot more without passing out or going to a hospital is as satisfying or more than the marathon. Because when all is said and done that allows me to access more positive brain chemicals. Running is less fun. Ha. And often when someone beats me like that they also want to get me off and that’s just fantastic when I am limp and empty and drained and I have nothing more to be taken from me and then they just keep taking from me.

I’m feeling this hunger still. Not super intense. I need to heal first. I still haven’t been hit till I cry. Not really. A little bit of vocalized sobbing without tears barely counts.

Are you giving me enough time to process, oh sweet Cupid? That depends on your goal. I look forward to when we get around to having our first dinner date and we can have a conversation in person with our clothes on. Ha.

Are you missing more subtle reactions? Certainly. Absolutely. You are missing tons of subtle reactions. You aren’t hearing gasps or moans or sighs. You probably aren’t noticing a lot of grimaces and flinches.

Is that a problem?

Meh.

Depends on how much you like those reactions and are motivated by them. If what you want is to get to a place of overwhelmed and intense and sobbing… honestly you’ll have an easier time if you aren’t hesitating every time I gasp.

How much pleasure do you want me to have?

Cause I’ll tell you. Once my body hurts like that coming is… honestly not that much pleasure. It can be a fun kind of not pleasurable. The kind of not-pleasurable that makes me masturbate like crazy for a long while to come.

(Oh man. Noah and I have a do-whatever-he-says-date coming up. Recently we did a forced orgasm scene. I hit 78 orgasms. He is currently threatening me with needing to beat that number. Ow. Ow. Ow. Yeah, there’s a point at which orgasming isn’t pleasurable. But I sure find it entertaining that people want to do that to me.)

Will I enjoy it in the moment? Not once we get much over 60. It starts just… cramping…

But I’ll beat off thinking about it afterwards and that’s fun.

No Cupid… I’m not trying for a resistance scene and I’m not hoping you’ll chase me when I collapse. I’m… in too much pain to stand and I’m trying to breathe. Sometimes my leg is genuinely collapsing under me from cramping. Please oh for the love of toast don’t hit me when I’m down.

Although god it was hot the other night when you knelt behind me and hit me in a different spot…

Do I want you to stop or not?

Yesnoyesnoyesnoyesnoyesno.

Like that.

(By the way it is charming as all get out to have Cupid’s other play partner be so enthusiastic about sharing. I’m enjoying the heck out of talking about his sexual preferences behind his back. That’s hot. “No he likes sex! You aren’t disappointing him!” What a nice lady. Yay.)

The reality is that I’m coming up on my physical limitations more than the limits of my spirit. I probably should at some point acknowledge that it may not be good for my body to have this many contusions this often.

Whatever.

Noah says I need to start worrying when the bruising stops healing fast. So I’m fine. Snicker.

Oh, yes I did explain to the other person with your name about the cramping/fisting. We exchanged delightful supportive messages. I’m shocked by how… caring he is being? I don’t know. I feel like he changed over the last decade and some. Maybe being a father was good for him? Ha. He is quite thrilled we had such a good time at his party.

Growing up is good for all of us. I’m feeling so dang loved lately. I have awesome friends.

I am thrilled to hear that you would consider fucking me in public. That’s great to hear. Swoon. I get your unthrilledness about fucking where there is no shower. It is… inconvenient. I can live with that pickiness. We are old people. I like having things just so. (We are old…. Lol. I’m so funny.)

I… don’t think I want to try fisting when I’m already in that much pain to begin with again. And better lube.

I’m totally cool with trying again since that’s something you are into. But… I’m always going to be more fond of fucking. I like feeling a body on me. I like feeling someones hot breath on me.

My fuck ups.

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This is a list Noah agrees with.

I cheated. Then I said I wasn’t sorry. Both were separate levels of hurtful.

I negotiated gloves for all genital contact and then broke that rule like 24 hours later.

I said maybe one person, maybe once a month. Yeah. That lasted less than a week. So many dates. So many people.

I have not been malicious. But I have been ridiculously selfish.

I’m glad he’s going to write me a list of what he feels he is doing wrong. I need to see that. He isn’t into the public exhibition of shame and that’s ok. I’ll see it.

Hey thanks, darling

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Noah came home from his date glowing. Apparently it went very well. Which means that all of a sudden he is very contrite about how he has been treating me. So his list of done-me-wrongs is shrinking and his list of oh-I-fucked-up is growing.

Well. That’s a good sign. See. Patience.

I know I’ve done pieces of this in thoroughly asshole ways. I didn’t do it out of malice. I did it because I flail a lot and I do my best and sometimes my best absolutely sucks ass.

Just like yours does.

I’m not the only asshole in this relationship.

I can forgive you if you can forgive me.

 

Why I stay

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Right now I’m fairly cranky and I have no idea what the path forward looks like.

But I think there will be one. I think there will be more good things than bad things. I think we will find a way to interact that allows us to hurt one another less. I believe that because it has always been true so far. For more than ten years.

Sometimes we have to have a big screaming fight. Because we’ve both been scared of rocking the boat for a long time. Sometimes the boat has to get rocked.

But we’ll be fine.

I’m not sure why I believe that. Sometimes it seems almost like idiocy. Like the most ridiculous fantasy I’ve ever had. Why in the hell am I stupid enough to think that anything can work out?

Because I have Noah.

Almost funny

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I want to type so bad it is driving me insane. But I would say shit I shouldn’t say. And my fingers and arms hurt really intensely.

I’m not very good at thinking inside my head. This is not my thing. This sucks.

I want to write it because that’s how I stop thinking in circles. That’s how I reach conclusions. Right now I’m circling like whoa.

What is belonging?

Boundaries on and off screen

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I am somewhat hyperaware that someday my kids may grow up and read this. It could happen. That means I actually… edit… maybe more than you might think of my life here. I’m nervous about how I present Noah. I talk about him in terrible ways sometimes. I also very carefully avoid saying a lot of terrible things about him.

I do not want sides taken. I do not want back and forth bickering in public. I do not want my children seeing the depths to which we sink when we are being fucking petty. Why not? It’s complicated.

We haven’t fought like this since we closed our relationship. Fighting like this is why we closed our relationship. Because we didn’t think we could stay married through fighting like this.

But that was when we had babies and it just wasn’t ok at all for me to have emotional variance because of my relationship with Noah. I had to be regulated because I was teaching emotional regulation just about 24/7.

That was kind of a difficult thing for someone who is as dysregulated as I have been all my life. I look at my children and feel that I succeeded. Clearly they got the lessons they needed developmentally when they were needed. I did it. I stayed calm. I taught them how to handle conflict and big feelings without flipping out.

I did it.

Which means I can have more things in my life that cause my feelings to fluctuate. Which is fucking tricky.

Nonmonogamy is going to be hard. There are a lot more insecurities here than either of us are really having fun talking about.

What does safety mean? What does connection mean? What are we working towards? What do we want? What is the purpose of sex in our relationship? What do we do for one another versus for ourselves?

I sure wish that these conversations could come with a little more sleep for me. Out of the past three nights I’m now only down about one night of sleep. That’s improving…

But we talk all night long because we can’t talk in front of the kids.

I am not sure either of us are being fair. Yeah, I’m being an asshole. I’m not in denial. I’m not trying to say that I’m being fine and he’s the asshole. I’m really not saying that.

I cheated and broke his heart. He thought he was going to get to be my one and only forever and ever amen.

He’s allowed to be absolutely furious about that.

I know.

I’m trying very very hard to not get into done-me-wrongs. I will talk about what I know I have done wrong. I don’t need to get into done-me-wrongs.

It won’t help. I hiss those often enough in person. It’s not like I’ve forgotten the list. I just don’t need to write it down.

How do you fight in civilized fashion when you are a compulsive over-sharer? Like this. You say what you did wrong and talk about being angry without placing blame. I’m not saying that Noah is to blame for my feelings. He isn’t. I mean… a couple of his particular phrase choices were infuriating… but whatever. I’m being a right bitch in this fight.

How do you build towards a vision of self that may not be what your partner wants? How big do you want your partner to be? How small so you can feel bigger? I don’t know.

Who is pulling whom around on a chain.

I don’t want to leave. That’s part of the reason I have no particular reason to bad mouth Noah up one side and down the other. I don’t want to leave. Even though I’m angry about some stuff right now… that’s life. I flipped the canoe of our life over. There are going to be some feelings we have to deal with. I’m ok with that. I’m not enjoying this process but I see it as necessary.

I’m not afraid of conflict.

I’m afraid of not getting my needs met.

I’m afraid of not being who I want to be because I am afraid that someone else doesn’t want me to be.

I’m afraid of making myself small and unthreatening and never doing anything with my life again because I have decided I don’t deserve to ask for what I really want.

What does necessary even mean?

I’m sure I don’t know.

Am I fucking everything up permanently? Well. I guess we will find out. There is the non-zero possibility.

It is hard when I feel like I’m absolutely the bad guy here. I’m the one insisting on change because the status quo wasn’t working. I feel like a fucking asshole for not making it work. For not deciding that it was just good enough because that was all I agreed to this life.

I did not promise sexual fidelity in my marriage vows. Yeah. I slammed the door four years ago when we were having screaming fights about lying and … shit don’t rehash it. It wasn’t well done.

I feel like everything bad must be all my fault. I feel like I am a monster. A selfish, disgusting monster.

Day 38. Still no bleeding. PMDD means that right before I start bleeding I tend to have intense spikes of depression and anxiety. My suicidal urges go through the roof. This is a well documented phenomena.

I need to be something other than a cum dumpster who can’t cum. This just… isn’t working any more.

I wish I didn’t feel so fucking bad about that.

Sometimes people ask why I write such whiny melodramatic stuff. Aren’t I embarrassed? I’m documenting what living with an acute stress disorder is like. The kind that results from brain damage. If you think I should be embarrassed that says more about you than it does about me. No, it’s not fucking smooth. Yeah I’m a lot of fucking drama. Lots of ups and downs.

That’s what brain damage does. Pieces of it are absolutely my fault in an ongoing way I really don’t deny that. But I’m also trying to deal with my problems. That means I’m going to flail and do things that don’t work sometimes and I will document those fuck ups so I don’t forget and have to make the same mistake over and over.

I’m not writing for you.

I’m writing for me.