Random Things About Me

I “hear” a lot. “Feel” even more sometimes. Thanks to sci-fi and fantasy I finally figured out I have pretty strong receptive empathy coupled with a major healing talent. Unsurprising considering the sheer number of nurses in my family. The only thing I can think that would a worse gift to have is precognition. Thank you Goddess for NOT gifting that on me. However, living with this is a challenge sometimes, to say the very least.

Note to self: Don't send an empath to the mental hospital unless there isn't ANY other option. I spent more time helping out the other (nutjobs) than helping myself. I wanted to go home just so I could get a break from the noise and mental screaming. My meds help somewhat but almost nothing blocks the sound of the others from me. Don't ask about 9/11. I called in sick that day, before anyone flew a plane into a building.

My brand of ADHD: I hear it all and will process it all. Seriously – everything. Very little escapes me. I might not say anything, but I probably heard it and just rely on manners to determine what to say or not to say. Again, my meds can help somewhat, but almost nothing blocks everything out.

I work in Human Services because I have to. I don't really get a choice. My empathy demands I do this. But people tax me and my energy. The best compromise I've found is my job at DDS: I get to help people but rarely have to interact with them. I love that I get to read and write and interact (for the most part) with a computer and not people. My brief tenure at Denver Human Services doing TANF interviews darn near killed me. I can't tell you how happy I was to lose that job.

On the subject of interpersonal interaction and empathy: sometimes dealing with people, even people I love, is more than I can handle. Yes, I duck phone calls and doorbells out of sheer self preservation. Sometimes even talking to you on the phone, much less in person, is too much for me. It isn't you, it's most definitely me. I apologize in advance that sometimes the only option I feel I have is to hide away from the rest of humanity and its issues/problems. I suck. I know. I'm sorry.

Sadly, it's a thin line between hiding away from people and their inherent mental noise and becoming mired in a depression, whether it's something of my creation or someone else's. I don't have any idea of how to tell the difference or toe the line between the two. For those who demanded I get off my butt and get out, I thank you. For those who wondered what the hell was going on but continued to talk to me and love me, I thank you. For those who were convinced they did something wrong, you didn't and I am sorry.

I have some amazing friends who have opened their homes to me and allowed me a safe haven to rest and recover from the challenges life throws me. Y'all know who you are, but what you have done for me is immeasurably precious to me and I love you all for your generosity and, sometimes, sacrifice. To you and the rest of my friends: without you in my life I am sometimes not sure I'd still be alive. Thank you. Most days I am very pleased to know I remain among the living and you are some of the reasons that is still true.

I have some fantastic genetic family. I have amazing aunties and cousins who have accepted me for me without judging or expecting me to fulfill some role they conceived. For that I am humbled. Additionally I have been blessed to get a chance to rekindle a relationship with family who live here in the metro area. It took me 40 years, but getting a chance to know AND respect you is amazing.

What I learned/did on my vacation:

Had spinal surgery. Note to self: if the MRI says things are bad, they are. Don't fart around. Surgery is your best option. How do I know? I'm still trying to recover all of my neurological functioning and will probably not get it all back. I still have numbness and the occasional stagger in my walk and the weather will probably continue to play merry havoc with my functioning. Yeah, not one of my smarter moves. I should have more faith in allopathic medicine.

Conflict of interests with your job are BAD. Yep: B as in broken, A as in awful, D as in dropping. Don't do it again. You got off lucky this time.

itchy

Dear Gods I have an itch!
Yeah, that kind of itch.
After being low energy and kind of sick this week as well as having a lot of emotional ups and downs, I finally feel healthy enough, energetic enough, whatever enough to want sex. Not just play, but full on penetration sex. I want something in me and I want to come hard, loudly, and multiple times.

And none of my partners are available. Between scheduling issues, low energy, or just inaccessibility, no one is available to play with me or scratch my itch.

On the plus side, I had a very good conversation with one partner in which we realized that we are on two totally different planes right now and, at this point, neither of us can probably satisfy the other's needs.

On the down side, well - shit. We're on two totally different planes and neither of us can truly satisfy the other's needs.

There's no good resolution for this issue with one of my partners tonight. Sure, I can troll for someone else. But I hate that quality in myself as well as others, and in all honesty, I don't want to make a foolish choice and looking for someone for tonight seems like a foolish choice.

Which leads me to question myself, this itch, and comments from family that I'm silly, immature, and irresponsible. Yeah, I know. It's family saying this and these people are bug-fuck crazy. But they're family and their words echo (poorly) in my mind and soul. Yeah, it sears my soul. Society says these are people who should know me best, but the truth is that these people don't know me at all.

I have not shared with them details of my life because I know my choices are an affront to their moral fiber. I am bisexual, I am poly, and I am kinky/masochistic. This is added to the fact that I'm pagan and rebellious as well as someone who has been estranged from them for years.So, given all of these variables, it is no wonder that these people do not know me. Yet anything they say has such power.

No good answers for anything tonight. Sigh.

Surgery

At the beginning of April, I returned to my neurosurgeon to ask if there were any other, non-invasive, options available to me. I'd deferred surgery in October to try chiropractic treatment. I had some good improvement, but then began to regress (and regress badly) after the new year. After needing to use a cane for balance while walking, falling weekly, being unable to type accurately or at speed (which could cost me my job), and losing control of some key bodily functions, I'd had enough. There were too many deficits, too many losses to ignore any more. Yes, I returned to see a surgeon, someone who was probably going to suggest surgery (after all when you're a hammer, everything/evey solution starts to look like a nail). We did neurological testing, which I am familiar with.

I know my body. And I am well-paid to know and evaluate functional limitations and how they are documented. I read medical records daily. I work with medical doctors. And a goodly portion of my caseload has people claiming disability due to spine problems including herniated disks, canal stenosis (narrowing of the spinal column), foraminal stenosis (narrowing of the areas where the nerves exit the spinal cord). I have pretty much all of these problems. The most serious, however, is my herniated disk at C5-6 (cervical vertebra numbers 5 and 6).  The disc ruptured and oozed back, compressing my spinal cord by about 50%.

How do I know this?  Again, I read medical records for a living. I also request copies of the raw MRI data plus the radiologist interpretations. I can read these images. No, not as well as a radiologist, but well enough. And, I mentioned that I know my body. I have numbness in my legs, feet, arms, hands, and part of my torso. It waxes and wanes according to things like barometric pressure. My partners have seen how well I don't walk, can't function. Even my casual friends notice and see how badly I am doing. Work knows my hands don't work well for typing. I had to ask for help and now, for my longer Findings of Fact, I dictate them. And all just see the very tip of the iceberg of all of my symptoms.

Here's is where I bare my shame. I am incontinent. Bladder and bowel. I can't really feel how full my bladder is until it's time to pee, NOW. I can't hold it either. If I start to urinate, there's no way for me to stop. This happens, probably once a day, and has been going on, with a gradual worsening, for months.

Couple Code

I miss the couple code. You know. The experiences and stories you collect as a couple that become a code common only to the two of you. Over time the code is less about the stories and more about the meanings you give them. Shared experiences, shared meaning. Ultimately the embodiment of the years spent together.


I miss that.

I know I mentioned that I don’t miss Pam. I do and I don’t. I surely don’t miss the woman who had me watch as she fell in love with someone else, driving me slowly crazy as more time went by and I could see her make new connections with her and sever the ones with me. But surely I miss the shorthand that every couple develops
And, now that the marriage is over, when do I stop thinking about that code when talking to friends and lovers? When do I stop automatically thinking in code and wanting to share the amusement with people who weren’t there and don’t know what I mean? There are just so many random times that could be summed up in couple code and it only makes sense to me. It is so frustrating and, depending on the day, time, or time of the month, almost cripplingly sad.
I don’t think there’s an answer to my question, other than time and a chance to have new experiences which make new memories and eventually morph into a new couple code. I just wish these things happened a bit faster.

I think I'm...

Oh, sure. There's new relationship energy. Can happen rather often for me, depending on my mood and social events I attend. I meet someone, we connect on some level, maybe sleep together, maybe not. Perhaps we become friends who did or do sleep together. Or just friends. After Pam, I am happy to make new connections in my life and enjoy the love and caring I receive and enjoy that I can love and care for another human.

And then there's the time when it's all that and more. The connection that seems to transcend time, space, and relationships. Sometimes it happens over time, as with Mark, whom I cannot not see as part of my life now, after building a relationship over the past 10 months. Sometimes it happens quickly, as with Eric. I've been asking myself when is the right time to say that I think I'm falling in love with someone I only knew from photographs just over a month ago.

Oh, did I forget to mention this? Yeah, I saw photos of Eric and Eris that a friend took months ago. Felt the "zing" of deity letting me know this was someone to meet, but with all the drama and all, nothing panned out then. Fast forward through casual mentions of these two to communal dinners. I finally met them in person. Both are incredible people in and of themselves. But Eris prefers dating men and Eric women.

So here I am on a cool cloudy Saturday after spending the evening at a movie with both Eric and Eris and having Eric come back to my house for the night. And hearing from him the words I've been afraid to say out loud, "I think I'm falling in love with you."

I'm not running away. Not screaming in fear. Oh, I have the fear that revealing all of me means driving someone away. But I'm going to face my fear and try to share me with somone who is willing to say he loves me. It's a step back into the arena of love.

what's love got to do with it? (part 2-ish)

Here's a part of my fellow Twitter/FB/Fetlife friend's blog: (nakedconfusion)
I found that now, where I am with myself, I didn't want one with him any other way. As things progressed with Daddy and me, I realized that I'd found something in him that I hadn't even been looking for. I found that I not only wanted him, but that I didn't want him without love. And when I realized that, I almost ruined everything because I couldn't see how love and d/s could work together.

The idea of having love in a d/s relationship was something I was unprepared to understand. Thankfully, one of Daddy's really strong suits is knowing me better than I know myself. That, and a heck of a lot of patience.

This resonates strongly with me.  I did not set out to meet Eric or even start anything with him; I'd just ended a budding M/s relationship because I couldn't face losing my other loves or taking a final step to handing over my body, mind, and spirit to someone I didn't love at least not yet. So here I was at Stella's potluck and teasing Eris and Eric because she was teasingly pimping him out. Somehow we ended up kissing. No big deal, but he was biting my lips and, well, being the good masochist I am, I responded. We started talking, friending on FB, I ended up at his house (more kissing) when Eris invited me to an last-minute BBQ, and had a dinner date at my house one snowy evening. Seemed totally vanilla even though we'd discussed my kinkiness and that he'd had similar play relationships in the past.  We even moved into my bedroom with the idea we'd at least do the first date vanilla thing. Didn't last very long as we soon agreed that vanilla was nice but perhaps we should try chocolate chip.

What catches me by surprise is the intensity of our feelings for each other, made more so by the nature of out D/s relationship.  He's very clear he does not want to be my Master, nor do I want that from him. That said there is something about putting such great trust in someone else in a relatively short amount of time that has the side effect of intensifying the existing and potential emotions. End result? I think I'm falling in love and seeing Eric as more than just a play partner. It's not one sided either. I'm still in shock - what took months to build with Mark and Debbie happened in record time with Eric.

And what do I find/realize in all of this? Love has a lot to do with this. It's a corrupting influence inasmuch as it spoils me for light and fluffy play. I have seen and experienced more. I think I want the more, at least now.

After seeing Avatar and loving the symbolism and imagery associated with this phrase, my interest was definitely piqued to see this note posted on a friend's Facebook page. It's interesting reading.

I see you.

 

 Tuesday, November 10, 2009 at 1:28am

Language is an interesting thing. The three words most people consider to be [of] the utmost importance is “I love you.” But love is a slippery thing. The three words I most want to hear, and only if they are true, is “I see you.” Though love is a wonderful and beautiful thing, to be truly seen by someone as the person you really are, all your faults, all your virtues, and all your complexities, that is something truly life changing. I’m not sure if it’s even something that is possible, but I want it anyways. Beyond that, I want to be able to give it. I want to see people for what and who they really are, both good and bad. It is the combination of light and dark that creates beauty, and I want to see all of it. It’s rather esoteric and clichéd but perhaps in learning to see, one day, I will be seen. 

 

So, thanks Clacy for saying this so well.

nephew

PJ's on Fetlife, too. How weird is that?

Fetlife about me

About me (edit)

At the end of 2006 I had gastric bypass and lost more than half of my weight. Yep, that means saggy skin - everywhere. Thanks to miracle materials such as lycra and steel (corset, underwire), I look pretty good. Out of my clothes I am definitely not typical. Neither good nor bad, just not typical. And, now that I'm past age 40, I acknowledge that gravity isn't just a good idea, it's the law. So, for my own peace of mind, this is where I tell (warn) you that I have size 28-30 skin on a size 14-16 body.

I was slow to post information about me other than filling out interests, joining discussion groups, and providing basic information. I have been slow to move into the kink world as I was in a mostly happy same-sex marriage for 13 years. However she was very vanilla, very monogamous and, out of love and respect for her and her needs, I curtailed my need for outside and kinky relationships. It's easier than you think to accomplish this when you're living only in your head and ignoring your body. Now that our relationship has ended, I am not going to miss the opportunity to explore what I want from my life, preferably before it is over. This is life, not a dress rehearsal. You very very very occasionally get do-overs.
I identify as poly even though I am not currently partnered. I live alone with my cats and am perfectly happy to continue to do so. I have several current relationships, both kinky and not. If asked directly, AND it is pertinent, I will disclose them. Not all of them are on Fetlife and not all of them are relationships I will discuss openly. The people I'm involved with are wonderful, amazing, fantastic and I consider them to be family (they are my logical, as opposed to biological, family). They each bring different strengths to my life. I love and respect them and won't denigrate these relationships by kissing and telling. I let them know about any new relationships I begin but won't casually discuss them.


Type of submissive: definitely submissive in the bedroom/behind closed doors. I am not a bottom as I want more than just sensation, I want an exchange of power: I want to be submissive to a dominant. I'm not at the point in which I feel I can surrender total control to someone although the idea fascinates and attracts me. In most of the other parts of my life I am in charge/she who must be obeyed and paid to be the subject matter expert. I will not give that up and frankly cannot see me giving up total control and power to another person, although I should know never to say never. But I have a very strong independent streak in me (maybe genetic, it seems to run in my family) which makes surrendering total control difficult. I have a career, friends, and relationships that exist outside of a D/s relationship and are equitable/egalitarian. But, all that being said, there is something amazingly pleasurable both to me and in me when I serve. I like being ordered to perform without hesitation or question. I can and do submit willingly. I just don't know if I can do something like that more than occasionally and outside of the bedroom/behind closed doors.

I am a masochist with a high pain tolerance in spite of relatively easy bruising and generally looking rather fragile (or so I've been told). Yes I love being marked. All this being said, I still want to be fucked in every way possible while also providing the pleasure and service my dominant demands. I love the inner peace and mental quiet (my ADHD brain shuts up) that comes after being beaten. I like serving sexual sadists in that they can and have taken me to places I only dreamed about with orgasms that blew my socks off just by remembering.

FB: Teresa thanks Amber's recent status update for reminding her of a crucial element in her life & recent events: it's called a break up because it's BROKEN.

Favorite holiday wish

Because I found this to be so amusing, I'm sharing a quote/holiday wish I got from one of my favorite authors, Laurell K. Hamilton):

May your sheets be tangled, make up something that smears across the pillow, & you do things that would not film well, but feel amazing.


Seriously, so mote it be all year long!

Talking to the ex and me moving

I was able to contact Pam and she's going to collect most of the things/furniture I don't take with me. Whatever else is left goes either to friends or to donation/dumpster. I have until the end of the month to be out completely.

All this occurred after weeks of texting, emailing, and phoning Pam with absolutely no response. I was again  forced to email her girlfriend (in hopes she would pass the message onto Pam) about my moving schedule and her ability to collect whatever furniture, household items, and books that were left. As a result I got a text message from Pam asking if she could call me and we ended up talking for at least an hour (probably more like two) yesterday. She tells me that she misses most of her emails and text messages. I think I would believe it if I'd heard of more people having this problem. It's so hard not to think that her behavior is intentional and that she actively avoids me. Really, when it all comes down to brass tacks, I don't believe her, which is one of many reasons why I would not want to reunite with her. It's a sad commentary after 13 years together.
The downside of talking to Pam is that I face the pain of what is over and must confront  and allow my feelings of grief. In talking to Pam I am working through my experiences and the changes I've wrought in the last six to twelve months, and the price for this is the crying and the depression. Crying I can handle, but the depression slows me down, robbing me of my initiative, and I simply can't afford that right now with so many things happening in the next three days. I need to finish packing, paint that one wall in my bedroom before the bed goes in, and be at the top of my game to wrangle the two sets of movers (regular furniture and waterbed). Not to mention getting UNpacked at the new place.

My marriage to Pam: I don't want to go back (seriously, NO) but I miss what used to be, who Pam used to be, and that there were at least 10 years of me being very happy with what I had. Now that I have more and different life experience, I don't want what would amount to a huge step backwards, but I miss odd things like the shorthand that couples develop, talking to someone who knows me well, and the companionship that is the natural result of living with someone for 13 years. I'm a crying fool, but I don't fight it, don't try to run away from it, and just let myself feel what I feel and be okay with the seeming dichotomy of I miss her but I don't want to get back together with her.

Talking with Pam is difficult. The humor we shared is still there, the shorthand still exists, the associations between a single word or phrase to a shared experience is blatantly obvious. I miss that. I miss the intimacy of someone knowing me so well as well as having such a long history/intimate knowledge of me, my mind, my body, and my spirit. At the same time, Pam said things like, "I still love you. I will always love you. But I was not the right person for you." That makes me so angry! It's a classic Borderline trait of invalidating someone else. I told her point blank that the statement was inappropriate (such a mild word for how pissed I was) and that it wasn't her place to validate or invalidate MY choice. It was my choice to be with her and I was supremely happy; sublimely happy with her for at least ten years, probably more. Although what I want now is very different, I was the one to choose to align myself with Pam, to choose the vanilla relationship that we had, to choose not to see other people and be monogamous with her, to accommodate her social anxiety, to work to teach her social skills, and to be the supportive partner for her incredibly low self esteem. It's particularly co-dependent of me (in 20/20 hindsight), but it worked for a very long time. And this is the past, not current times. Regardless, I was who I was. I am now who I am, which I certainly hope is mentally a LOT more stable, independent, and free than I used to be. But I'm probably deluding myself. We humans do that kind of thing and I admit I am superbly skilled in this area.

So, I listen to and experience my grief while trying to balance that with not getting sucked into a depressive and borderline void, decompensating, and generally taking steps backward/undoing the work of the past six months. One major reason I won't go back to Pam is that I don't like who I was. I don't like my dependent traits, I don't like how much I was paying in personal energy and strength to support someone who would not try to support herself. So I work to move forward in my life with the memories of what was the the hopes of what will be.

And, I have a really cute new apartment to move into and establish new memories. But I need to pack!