Archive for the 'anger' Category

Bullshit, Part II

Published on November 22, 2011 in anger, anxiety, assault, consent, recovery, stupid people, trauma, trust, Uncategorized and venting. 3 Comments

On the other end of the irritating spectrum is the fact that the guy who sexually assaulted me is still denying it. (Description here, despite his trying to claim I deleted it off my blog.) I wrote about my situation, not naming him of course, on Good Vibrations’ blog because I think more discussion needs to happen around non-consensual acts in a community that prides itself on consent. He commented (outing himself!?) denying that anything non-consensual happened. GV got nervous, so I offered to re-write the post. The original can now be found on Kitty Stryker’s blog. He also tried to leave a comment here, but I don’t feel I owe this man any airtime in my space.

It’s disgusting that this man still refuses to take responsibility for his actions. I feel certain that there could be clear video and audio footage of the incident – of me telling him to take the speculum out because it hurt and his continuing to hurt me instead – and he’d still deny responsibility. I don’t expect any different from him, but he should realize that he’s not going to shut me up about what I KNOW happened.

It’s also disgusting that it seems the organizers of the Geeky Kink Event told him that I sent them information on him. Hey, it was within their rights to decide to keep him teaching a class, but to tell him that his victim reported him? What the fuck? They could have very well put me in danger. So far harassing comments denying his responsibility are all that he’s done, but they didn’t know what might happen. I’m still waiting for an explanation for this. MasterDoc contacted them and so far they don’t seem to have anything to say for themselves.

I’m refraining from naming the con that approached me discreetly and respectfully earlier this year and decided to ban the asshole. Hopefully it drives him nuts to not know who will be denying his application to teach next year. I had hoped that maybe people were becoming more concerned with consent and better able to handle complaints since things were handled so beautifully with this con. Unfortunately, it seems I can be sure of that with only one grouping. As for the Geeky Kink Event, if you’re a survivor don’t approach them as they clearly won’t honor your privacy one iota (nor worry about your safety). And if the guy who assaulted me is to be believed, apparently they feel qualified to decide if I was assaulted or not.

Bullshit, Part I

Published on November 21, 2011 in anger, bdsm, consent, D/s, DeeDee, happy, kink, mental illness, mother, musings, sexuality, stupid people, trust, Uncategorized and venting. 3 Comments

It has been quite a week here. I’ve been sick, DeeDee had family issues and I dealt with premenstrual dysphoric disorder early in the week. I hope next week is far better.

I’ve been left contemplating how consenting adults can have their choices questioned (part I) but on the other hand people who violate withdrawn consent can go around denying it for years (part II).

Some members of DeeDee’s family have decided that she can’t possibly have chosen to be in a bdsm relationship. They think she must be abused. They’ve found my blog and point to my own history with depression (and the one time I was hospitalized for such 23 years ago when I was a teenager). People into bdsm are as varied as any other group of people. Some are mentally well, some have mental illness, some are awesome people who stick strictly to the notion that consent matters, and unfortunately, a few are predatory. People into bdsm generally like things more intense than others. Are people who like to burn their mouths on hot, spicy food sick people? How is this different? I like extra spice with my sexuality. I like the feelings of bliss released when controlled pain is applied to my body in a consensual situation. While I suffer from a mental illness, that is not what causes me to love playing with power differential sexually. I’ve had kinky fantasies since childhood, and while my family is your garden-variety dysfunctional American family, I was not abused at all in childhood. No one beat me, no one did inappropriate sexual things to me (or, indeed, any sexual things to me). I was treated lovingly for the most part and, as an only child for the first 11 years, I was pretty much spoiled. (On one side of the family, I was the only grandchild for 9 years. Oh yeah. Spoiled.) Being turned on by thoughts of bondage and helplessness just occurred naturally. (And, I might add, long before I was raped or sexually assaulted. Rape and sexual assault, sadly, are more common in this world than bdsm.)

The infantilization of those with mental illness would be humorous if it wasn’t so damn offensive. I would like to think that while I certainly talk about a lot of intense kinky sex here, I also very clearly convey the loving relationship I have with MasterDoc. He doesn’t take advantage of my mental illness. If anything he has mentored me in adopting better coping mechanisms. I don’t blow up in emotional outbursts as often as I used to. I’m far better at asking for what I need emotionally rather than stewing and expecting others to read my mind. Bad methods of coping I learned from my mother have been slowly unlearned with MasterDoc’s patient teaching. I suffer far less distress than I used to because I can handle things more rationally.

But, you see, I would bet DeeDee’s family will think he made me write that, or something. Determining that my agency has been taken away from me without so much as talking to me is also damn offensive. While I like the security of considering myself owned by MasterDoc, the truth is owning people is illegal in the United States. I am a free woman. I have a career. I can pay my own bills. No one is manipulating me to be MasterDoc’s submissive. I have the means to leave if I wanted. But I don’t want to – not because anyone has worn me down or some shit, but because I have a tremendous amount of loving support from my chosen family. My current household is so delightfully stable and placid compared to that of my parents’ house. (While ultimately loving, my Mother had a tendency to shout and have emotional outbursts. Thankfully my Dad was stable.)

I think it might actually disappoint some people just how normal and dare I say, equitable, our relationship can be. I can disagree with him. We will discuss things we disagree on. MasterDoc likes having intelligent women as submissives because he’s not looking to control someone 24/7 (not to mention the conversation is far better). He wants us to think for ourselves. He wants the best for us. He’s still good friends with his former submissives. Hardly sounds like they fled from him, huh? He walked one down the aisle as her bridal attendant and she counts him as her best friend.

But I could talk about that ad nauseum and still not convince people. That’s okay. I know I’m in a happy and stable relationship. I know MasterDoc has not ever laid a finger on me in anger, and never will.

Protected: Blogger Drama or Real Issues?

Published on October 24, 2010 in anger, assault, blogs, Floating World, musings, trust, Uncategorized and venting. Enter your password to view comments.

Misunderstandings Suck

Published on June 3, 2010 in anger, anxiety, D/s, depression, derangement, embarrassment, emotions, musings, neurosis, non-monogamy, poly, sex, sybian, threesome and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Even the best relationships have rough patches and misunderstandings. Unfortunately Monday night led to me misunderstanding and getting really upset. Consequently, I spent most of Tuesday upset.

I spent the Monday holiday with MasterDoc, and after we went out to lunch he gave me a sybian ride. I squirted like a sprinkler all over the machine and the floor. Leading up to this, I had laid out nipple clamps, the Hitachi magic wand and my Gigi in the bedroom and gotten started without him. (Hey, I was horny!) He put the clamps on my nipples and led me into the living room where he had set up the sybian. He also grabbed the riding crop to swat my ass while he gave me the ride.

It is delicious how he teases me by varying the speed of the vibration. He tugged on the nipple clamps (one of which didn’t want to stay put) and spanked me with the crop. As I said before, when I came I squirted. I had to clean up the machine and the carpet afterward.

DeeDee was due home that evening, and he made it clear that I would not be the focus of our play that night, and I understood that. DeeDee hadn’t seen him since Friday morning. The three of us hung out watching t.v. for a bit after dinner, and I stumbled upon a Lady Gaga fest on Fuse. When MasterDoc decided it was time to head to the bedroom, I semi-seriously said, “But Gaga is on!” He said that’s fine, I can watch it. Seeing my chance at sex as slipping away, I said, “But this could go on for hours! I don’t have to watch it.” He pointed out that I should enjoy myself and watch for the next half hour or so, until whatever segment was over.

I was a bit inebriated that evening, and I started to wonder if he wanted time alone with DeeDee. In theory there’s nothing wrong with this, but since a threesome had been implied, I felt left out being left in the living room watching Gaga videos (amid many commercials). I somehow in my muddled mind started to think that I was being left out for the whole evening. I debated back and forth – would he really do that? Well as a good sub I should respect that and do my best to enjoy my evening in the living room. But I felt really left out and sad. I felt rejected. I felt like I was being punished for something.

I went to the bathroom at one point and he came to check on me. During our brief conversation I got the impression that he did want me to stay in the living room. But he also said something about coming in. I peeked in the bedroom after I left the loo and they were intensely close and I worried that I’d be barging in. I thought I had misinterpreted him. I went back to the living room.

I lay sadly on the sofa, watching t.v. and clutching the stuffed dog one of his other girlfriends had given him (who I’ve taken a liking to and named Brian after the dog on Family Guy). MasterDoc and DeeDee came out at one point and said they were going to set up the air conditioner in DeeDee’s room. Ok. It’s a good thing because the evening was hot, but I thought to myself (incorrectly), “Well that’s the end of that. No sex for me.”

After the a/c was in, MasterDoc sat on the sofa next to me and reached over to part my legs. He started playing with my cunt and I was confused – was he doing this because I seemed upset at the lack of attention? Was I taking attention away from DeeDee and being a selfish little bitch in a way? Should I enjoy what he was doing and orgasm? The night wasn’t supposed to be about me. I felt guilty for feeling so upset over being left out. He managed to wrench a hard orgasm out of me despite my terrible mindset. I was feeling bewildered.

Now, reading this you know that I had misunderstood. But at the time I didn’t know this, and I was really ruminating over it all. MasterDoc decided to have me join them, and I thought, “Oh hey, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’ll be included now.” But then I went back to my original theory when it turned out I was invited in to teach DeeDee the touching technique I’ve learned that turns MasterDoc on. And so my inebriated brain thought, “Great, I’m just coming in to improve their sex life.”

I struggled all night to be a “good” submissive and accept things as they came. For a while I did get into touching MasterDoc and I was able to stop feeling depressed and truly enjoy myself. (It is amazing being able to make your Dom twitch from your touch.) I taught DeeDee some of the technique and MasterDoc was a very happy man having us both massage his inner thighs.

DeeDee headed off again (the reason why escapes me) and MasterDoc asked if I wanted to get fucked. I went for it since it had been nearly a week since I had his cock in me, but with all my neuroses hard at work I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy it. He could see I was distressed in some way, checked in with me, and I was worried that he’d go off to DeeDee’s room right after fucking me, leaving me alone without aftercare. He made it clear that I was supposed to enjoy myself and that I would get cuddles after. So I did let go and come hard when he fucked me, but my brain still was chugging along the wrong track.

He slept with DeeDee that night, which I knew about ahead of time. As I lay in bed trying to sleep (I had work in the morning) I could hear DeeDee coming even through the earplugs I wear to bed. This just fueled my distressed mind. I had a hard time falling asleep and was completely miserable.

I spent the next morning filled with angst. I laid into MasterDoc when I ran into him online during the day. Poor guy didn’t know what I was going on about. By this time my insecurity had been thoroughly tapped into and pain and sadness flowed from me. It was a hellish day at work.

But when I got back to MasterDoc’s that evening, he and I talked. I broke down and got a little hysterical after explaining to him that part of expressing myself to me is letting the emotions show (he always tries to get me to talk calmly, without raising my voice). He’s far more rational and thick-skinned than me, so my reactions put him off. I’m very emotional. I’ve worked for years on becoming more rational, and I’ve improved, but sometimes my emotions take over. I expressed how truly painful the incident on Sunday with my toys on the floor had been for me – I know it’s something he wouldn’t have a second thought about. He’s not bothered by things like that. But for me it triggers something deep.

I cried. I was angry. I was sad. I was unfortunately bitchy. I jabbed with words, which I’m unfortunately good at. The feeling that I really need more sex and need to see more people overwhelmed me. I’m not sure that was really the deep-seated issue at hand, but it’s something that came out. He is open to me playing with others, etc. Now I need to get off my ass and meet other potential partners. After the discussion was over, I was left feeling terrible because I had truly made him hurt. He’s not hyper-expressive like I am, but I could see in his eyes that I really hurt him.

I’ve been feeling bad about it since, although I know that you can’t take back words, but you can try to be different going forward. I’m going to focus more on complimenting him and less on criticizing. Really, in so many ways I’m over the moon with him. He really can make me happy. I should de-emphasize the negative and as Louis Armstrong sang, “Acc-cent-choo-ate the positive.” I plan to be with him for a very long time.

When I get an occasional email on Facebook saying what a lucky man MasterDoc is to have me, I think about these times when I’m overemotional, or depressed, and I think that I’m very much the lucky one.

Stalkers

Published on April 18, 2010 in anger, anxiety, blogs and Uncategorized. 6 Comments

Addendum: I thought I had written about this sort of behavior before – from January, Being Promiscuous Doesn’t Necessarily Mean I Will Fuck You.

Most of the people I’ve interacted with online since starting this blog have been wonderful. Up until the other day I had a chat widget on here that enabled me to chat with readers whenever I was logged into my Digsby aggregator. Every so often someone would say hello and it was pleasant to talk to people, answer sexuality questions and receive compliments. However, someone has ruined this for the rest of you now.

A blog reader (whose IP I have logged, I know you’re in New Jersey) has been going back and forth between my blog and Coy Pink’s for the past few days. He tries to talk to us via our pingbox/chat widget and if one doesn’t respond he quickly goes to the other. He is demanding in his tone and I got sick of his badgering me (not to mention inappropriate behavior when chatting with me) so I deleted the chat widget.

The chat started off friendly enough with some compliments. I always try to be gracious when someone contacts me because I really have no reason not to be. However, even when I said that I didn’t want to talk right then because I wanted to work on a blog entry, he kept messaging me a few more times because I still appeared online. By the time I made my excuses and finished the conversation (which I did mainly so I could blog in peace and quiet) he had stepped over a line by telling me that he was picturing fucking me from behind.

Seriously, this shit is creepy. I am a woman, a sexual assault/rape survivor and I live in a culture where rape is rampant. I don’t want some completely anonymous guy who I have no information about telling me what he “wants” to do to me. It’s nice to want, buddy, but seriously, I don’t want to hear it. However, being nice to people and going down the path of least resistance is my usual modus operandi so I simply got the conversation to end. Also, he started talking about wanting to play with me and how he’s into dominance. I made it clear that MasterDoc is the person to talk to since who I do bdsm play with is his choice.

Later that evening, he contacted me again. I had said I might be available to chat after a certain time so it was to be expected. Coy Pink and I had compared notes by this time (he mentioned that he had talked to her). This time, he started in right away trying to dominate me. It was nearing bedtime, so I had even less patience for that shit than usual. I told him straight out that I don’t appreciate someone who isn’t MasterDoc trying to tell me what to do. He apologized, but tried the same shit a short while later. I was tired and in no mood to talk, so the conversation ended. (But not until he had said that he was just seeing if we were on the same wavelength – yes this dude tried to frame his attempt at domming me as a “test.” I call bullshit.) However, Coy Pink saw him pop up on her site and try to talk to her. Apparently he spent a good amount of time going back and forth between her blog and mine. This stalker behavior is fucking creepy. And yes, it is stalker behavior. He sent me more instant messages apologizing for his behavior earlier.

I was away from my digsby for all of Friday, but as soon as I logged in on Saturday – yes, AS SOON AS I LOGGED IN – he messaged me. And he continued to message me every few minutes even though I didn’t respond. He had already messaged Coy Pink the second she logged on on Friday and Saturday. Coy has had more patience than I when it came to ignoring him or tersely replying to his messages. I have had no patience for it. I should not feel like I’m being stalked when I log in online. So I deleted my chat widget. Of course, today he messaged Coy – AS SOON AS SHE LOGGED IN – and asked why the widget was gone on my site.

It’s arguable that I should have told him to fuck off directly, but I’m a very non-confrontational person. However, creepy stalker guy from NJ? Fuck off. Do not contact me ever again. Ever. Your behavior is NOT acceptable and I want nothing to do with you. Also stop contacting Coy Pink. Take the hint, it is not okay to contact us.

Unfortunately, female sex bloggers sometimes have to deal with all sorts of creepy and douchey behavior from men. Dangerous Lilly had an incident on a dating site a last year. Other bloggers have dealt with all manner of assholery. I thought it might be useful to give men guidelines for contacting their favorite sex bloggers:

1. Be respectful. I am a human being and deserving of respect. My being sexually free does not mean you can accost me with sex talk. I am an educated, intelligent, professional woman. I am only a slut for MasterDoc.

2. You DO NOT KNOW ME. It may feel like that if you’ve read for a while, but only a tiny piece of my life and who I am appears on this blog.

3. I DO NOT KNOW YOU. I don’t have the advantage of reading a blog filled with your innermost thoughts and sexy adventures. I know absolutely nothing about you. Approaching me to see if I’d consider playing with you is not appropriate. Let me know who you are, let me get to know you, then approach the subject – this does not mean approaching the subject the same night or even same week you first contacted me.

4. If I turn you down, or if I ignore your messages, this is my right. I do not owe you a response. Do not keep contacting me multiple times a day. I do not owe you sex. I do not even owe you sexy talk when you want to wank. I’m glad that people enjoy my blog and the few pictures I put up, but I really don’t want to hear anything more explicit than, “Your stories/pictures are hot. Thank you for sharing them.”

5. Stalking my blog or any other blog is creepy and inappropriate. And likely to get your IP address turned over to the police.

6. I have plenty of friends, so don’t be surprised if I don’t make the effort to pursue a friendship with you. Even if you seem nice I probably don’t have the time or inclination right now.

If this sounds bitchy it’s because I feel the need to be firm and direct with the creepazoids of the internet. As I said earlier, most people I’ve heard from have been wonderful. People who are nice and respectful may have some hope of meeting and hanging out with me. People who go on about fucking me when I know nothing about them will get blocked. It’s not that I’m all that but being a sexually open woman does tend to attract people. Just because I write about my sex life in detail does not mean I will fuck anyone. Just because I’m slutty doesn’t mean I will meet you.

Here’s the stalker’s history on my blog today:

18th April 2010	10:34:46 AM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	10:37:40 AM	Exit Link	http://twitter.com/nadiawest/statuses/12375117378
18th April 2010	01:03:41 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:04:31 PM	Exit Link	http://twitter.com/nadiawest/statuses/12400319285
18th April 2010	01:05:49 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:09:37 PM	Page View	www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/index.php/elsewhere/
18th April 2010	01:10:31 PM	Exit Link	http://twitter.com/nadiawest
18th April 2010	01:10:46 PM	Page View	www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/index.php/elsewhere/
18th April 2010	01:10:48 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:29:38 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:43:50 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:45:09 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:45:15 PM	Exit Link	http://www.sexbloggercalendar.com/
18th April 2010	01:48:33 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	01:50:14 PM	Page View	www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/index.php/category/photos/
18th April 2010	01:50:30 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	03:03:11 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	03:09:25 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	03:12:46 PM	Page View	www.coypink.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/
18th April 2010	03:30:26 PM	Page View	dangerouslilly.com/ www.diaryofakinkylibrarian.com/

Being Promiscuous Doesn’t Necessarily Mean I Will Fuck You

Published on January 27, 2010 in anger, blogs, cybersex, musings, photos, sexuality, slut, stupid people and Uncategorized. 11 Comments

Around the sex blogosphere the past few days there’s been articles being written on how being a lady sex blogger seems to encourage some rather unsavory types to harass the women writing these blogs. Here’s just a few (some of the posts have more links):

I blog about sex. That is not an invitation. by Epiphora

Same Shit, Different Site by Britni

What Not to Say by Dangerous Lilly

Just Because I’m a Woman by SarahBear

While SarahBear talked more about harassment she’s received just for being a woman, this line stood out to me: “The men they are encountering assume that just because they review sex toys, write erotica and participate in a sex positive community that they are promiscuous.”

Certainly, this is a stupid assumption. Being sex positive, writing about sex or using sex toys does not necessarily mean you’re promiscuous. However I want to make the point here that even if I am promiscuous, I do not owe you a date, a fuck, a blow job, naked pictures, cybersex, etc.

I am a slut. I am not ashamed of this. I have fucked many people. I love writing about sex and discussing it. I love putting up sexy photos of myself. While I will often be patient with very personal questions on formspring in the spirit of talking openly about sex, I do get creeped out and annoyed when someone seems to be insinuating that I would want to do any particular activities with them (especially when they’re asking anonymously). There’s a fine line between curiosity about the various sexual things I’ve done and hitting on me in a creepy and overtly sexual fashion. A recent question and my answer:

Do you like being called nasty names? do you like your pussy slapped? your face slapped?

These questions are curious coming from a totally anonymous person. While I do enjoy these activities, I don’t enjoy them with everyone. In fact, the only man who has permission to do these things to me is MasterDoc.

I can’t help but think that rather than curiosity this person is looking for masturbation material or an indication that I would let them do these things to me. (I mean, if you read my blog at all you would know the general answer to these questions. Plus there’s already plenty of masturbation material here.) I don’t mind if someone gets off reading my accounts of things I’ve done. I’d be stupid and naive to think people don’t do that. But just because you’ve had a hot little wank session thinking about me does not mean I want to a) know/hear about it or b) make it real with you. I will often answer questions like I did the one above, getting specific that just because I’m into an activity, doesn’t mean I’d do it with just anyone.

would u liked to be fucked so rough and abused that u were sore the next day?

Yes, but by MasterDoc.

Being a slut does not mean I have to fuck everyone who’s interested in me or everyone who asks. I am a human being first and foremost and I have the option of turning down any and every potential sexual partner for whatever reason I deem appropriate. I do not owe anyone a cybersex session just because they’re turned on by my pictures or words. I tend to get really annoyed when someone tries to cyber with me without even asking if I want to. Most of the time when I’m online I’m either at work, or relaxing in the evening, and totally not in the mindset to talk dirty with a complete stranger. I’d appreciate being asked if I’m interested and for you to take my “no” graciously and back the fuck off. I’m not a fan of cybersex. And should I actually talk sex with you one time, doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do it again.

This all seems to go back to the sexist idea that women’s bodies and sexuality are public property. Let me clarify for you: No one has rights to my body or sexuality unless I give them permission. Yes, even MasterDoc had to get my permission before I submitted to him and gave him so much control over me and my sexuality. I reserve the right to take away permission from anyone at any time. If I say no, I mean no – not “try harder.” The best way to get my attention is to treat me with respect and be an interesting, intelligent person. Just because you promise to do things to me that I usually find erotic doesn’t mean I will let you. I’m more creeped out than turned on by some completely anonymous person talking about what they want to do to me sexually (or someone I don’t know doing the same). It makes me feel like the future target of a sexual assault, not sexy and desirable. Just because you feel like you know me from reading this blog doesn’t mean I know a thing about you or have any reason to feel comfortable or safe talking dirty with you.

Even though I will fuck random strangers at clubs while out with MasterDoc, this does not mean I will fuck anyone. The men I fuck are chosen carefully by myself and/or MasterDoc. I do not owe anyone a fuck just by virtue of being a slut. The biggest reason I’d turn down someone? Feeling unsafe.

The Depression and Insecurity Struggle

Published on January 1, 2010 in anal, anger, anxiety, caning, crazy, D/s, depression, derangement, dom, emotions, mental illness, neurosis, sex and Uncategorized. 1 Comment

This entry was started last weekend – twice. I fell into a deep depression on Saturday and I’ve taken my time figuring out how much about it I want to share.

I’m leaving out the many bits that added up and led to this but I ended up crying hysterically (yes, truly hysterically. I was gasping for air because I was crying so hard) at MasterDoc’s and being totally contrary, depressed and angry for the better part of the day. Bless MasterDoc’s patience. He did all he could to try to shake me out of it but I was unshakable for much of the day. He tried caning, which just pissed me off. *chuckle* He tried a firm hand, taking control, telling me to get my collar and get up and do some chores. That didn’t work. I was so weighted down with depression that I couldn’t move. I really couldn’t move. And when I finally got up to go use the bathroom I struggled to get to my feet and amble down the hall. It was a feeling much like when you’re heavily sick with flu and you feel like you’re moving through molasses.

But he kept at it, kept talking to me. Kept trying to reason with me through my tears. (He’s nothing if not a reasonable, rational man.) Eventually the core was reached – I don’t think I’m worthy of being loved. All the rest is window dressing for this one core truth. Sure there are times when I’m not depressed when I feel worthwhile, but depression makes me feel utterly useless and unlovable. I’ve struggled with this since late childhood.

Sometimes via writing this blog I get people telling me I’m sexy, exciting, wonderful, attractive, etc. At those times the little low self-esteem voice in my head quotes the following bit from a Neil Finn song, Truth:

“They have showered me with riches /and they say that I am worthy of their love and their attention/ but they still don’t know the truth.”

I figure why believe someone who only knows me through the blog? Even though I am extremely candid here someone still can’t know me entirely with all my foibles and full-on flaws. I can’t accept compliments. Not really. I grew up thinking that if I felt good about myself then I was being egotistical and that I should always know my flaws and work on them. (Maybe this is a residual Catholic thing?) When I started coming out of the depression on Saturday, started being more reasonable at least, MasterDoc listed a bunch of things he likes about me; and I didn’t recognize the person he described. I didn’t think it could be me. But at the same time it felt so good to be told I’m loved and wanted.

As I was slowly recovering emotionally, I had a revelation. I finally understood age play. I had always been among the camp of “that makes me really uncomfortable but I won’t interfere with two consenting adults playing how they want to play.” But jeez, Saturday night I wanted nothing more than to be taken care of like a little child. I wanted to abdicate all responsibility. I wanted to be told when to brush my teeth and go to bed. I wanted to be held and petted and told I’m loved. It was a struggle for me to do tasks MasterDoc asked me to do, having any responsibility felt like too much for me to handle. I really felt like I needed to be taken care of. I did get petting from MasterDoc and told that I’m loved, but I didn’t get the full level of being controlled and taken care of. Oh well. That’s not what our relationship is like.

By the next day I was feeling calmer and no longer suicidal. I’ve struggled with dips into depression this week but have ultimately ended the week on a stable note. Wednesday night, while MasterDoc caned me, he made me repeat after him, “I am incredibly lovable.” He made me say it a few times and made me promise that I would remember that. We talked a little about how I came to feel this way when I was young, and having a mother who was moody and wildly unpredictable had a lot to do with it – i.e., one day I’d say “good morning” and she’d be loving and we’d bake cookies, but another morning I’d say the same exact thing in the same exact way and she’d bite my head off. As MasterDoc and I talked, he asked if I had ever tried to diagnose my mother. (I have an educational background in psychology.) I haven’t really, but immediately I said that she must suffer from depression like I do. And MasterDoc wondered aloud if I ever realized that these issues were my mother’s own or if I internalized them and blamed myself. And you know, until last night, at age 37, I never had the thought that these issues were my mother’s, and not my fault. I blamed myself from a young age. I thought that I made her mad or sad.

Somehow, I forget how, he came up with the idea of a time out next time I snap at him – time facing the corner to cool down and think. I think it’s interesting how a lot of what I’m getting out of our relationship in recent weeks is sorta parenting my inner child on things I missed out on when I actually was a child. I don’t doubt that my submission has some roots in wanting to be loved and pleasing. I think it could be really healing to try to please someone who is capable of being pleased for a change.

MasterDoc continued to say wonderful things to me all evening, working on bolstering my self-esteem. I’m trying to figure out how to accept the compliments. He feels a little offended that, in a way, I should think so little of his opinion of me as to not believe it. But it’s not that his opinion is off, it’s that I just can’t think about myself rationally sometimes.

We did eventually have sex, and while I came hard as always (rowr!) I was slow to warm up by that time as he bounced between watching porn on the computer and watching basketball on tv. I had been ready for fooling around after the caning but the sex didn’t come til much later. I didn’t complain, and he pointed out that I’m patient. He fucked me, and the ensuing hard orgasm helped my already improving mood. As we watched an assfucking porn afterward, I told him that it made me want to be fucked up the ass. And yes, he fucked me up the ass then. Very hot. I lay back after each fucking and felt utterly content.

He jerked off to come, and came in my mouth again. I sucked his cock while holding the come in my mouth and gleefully dribbled it out when he told me to. I think this is my current fetish. I hope that he’ll have me rub it over my breasts or something next time.

So as I head into the new year, I seem to be dealing with a bout of depression. Hopefully I will manage to work through it like I always have in the past. Having a loving Dom will certainly help. Having a loving Davey will help too, but I think part of me needs a bit of a challenge when it comes to being loved. I feel like I need to earn it, and Davey loves me virtually unconditionally. Not that MasterDoc doesn’t, but he criticizes constructively and gets me working on improving. I think I need to prove to myself that I have earned the love I receive.

Channeling Anger

Published on March 9, 2007 in anger and assault. 4 Comments

Despite some epiphany over the route to take to get better and move on from the assault, of course doing so will be an ongoing process. Reading Hiromi’s blog entry yesterday got me worked up into a right lather of “bitterness that other victims should exist at all.” Ever since the assault I have far more rage than I’ve ever had in my life. I’m fucking angry. I’m angry at anyone who forces themselves upon anyone else. I want to knock their fucking heads in. I realize that of course I have a right to be angry, and that it’s understandable to be angry, but that doesn’t make it any easier to live with. I definitely have to find some way to work through or channel this rage. Doing my own art therapy comes to mind, as I did a couple of sculptures after the assault to help me work through what happened. Doing things that make me feel talented, accomplished and therefore worthwhile and strong and superimposing those good feelings over the bad ones is another idea. I threw myself into some crochet this morning to get my mind off things. At least I’m accomplishing something with my energy when I do that.

I am a worthwhile person, dammit. I hate the fact that this event undermines my self-esteem so much. I didn’t deserve what happened to me, and it was wrong. It doesn’t matter if the guy who did it to me knows that it was wrong or not. I AM A WORTHWHILE PERSON. I have much to offer this world, and letting him take that away would be giving away more power to him than he took in the first place.

Sometimes, feeling angry makes me feel weak. It makes me feel controlled by the anger. But right now I feel like my anger is strength. The strength to go on and not let myself be defined by this one event. I suppose it’s all in how you channel it and use it. Activism would be a good route to go right about now. Protesting and marching for women’s rights. Shouting at the top of my lungs to bring attention to the subject of sexual violence.

It’s really funny that the time I was raped doesn’t affect me half as much as the assault did. I suppose it comes from having been in a situation where I trusted, and then having that trust broken. Trust wasn’t developed in the situation where I was raped (it was a date rape situation, I barely knew the guy). There’s also the fact that I blocked the experience out of my head and hadn’t realized I was raped for about nine months after the fact, and still don’t remember many details. Whereas I remember the assault vividly. Perhaps it’s just that the rape was so many more years ago, nearly a decade now. Perhaps it’s not as bad because in some way I can understand someone wanting to have sex with me and pushing me into doing it despite my protests. I can’t understand why someone would stick a speculum inside me and then keep it in there after I said it was hurting me. I can’t understand the sick mind that thinks that’s okay. I suppose I don’t want to. None of this makes sense or is fair and that’s what’s so hard to live with. Somehow I have to find what steps will help me live with it and use my strength for good.