Primary

She'll never let go of him. Seems sweet as sugar. Deceit and false pretences.

At the beginning she said she had a primary.

Maybe she did. Sort of.

My man was to be her secondary. In our first foray into poly.

But within 2 weeks it became clear that her primary was irrelevant and that my primary was becoming hers.

I resisted it. Fought against it. Furiously.

That wasn't the deal I signed up for.

He said "Poor thing. She needs love."

She'll never let him go. Seems sweet as sugar. He won't hear a word against her. Deceit and false pretenses.

Why Blog here

It's been awhile since I've explained what it is we're doing here.....

This is an anonymous blog -- anyone can ask to join us and may -- in the freedom of their anonymity -- blog, bitch, vent -- as needed. It's a place where you don't have to censor yourself for the sake of your partner(s) or readers.

some of us have other blogs
some of us don't have a blog and just want to try blogging out for size

If you would like to join us -- all you need is a gmail account -- (I recommend that you get a new one if you wish to remain anonymous) -- email me at yourpeacefulone@gmail.com

and then when you are invited to join -- post at will (it's nice to not post on the same day someone else has posted so they have at least one day in the sun)

If you want folks to follow your story-- put your name (your new name) in the label and I'll create a link for it.

Come join us -- blogging is fun -- but horribly horribly horribly addictive

Spider

I hate her.

She's always there waiting for a moment with him.

Waiting for me to go to work or the grocery store or for a walk.

She never goes anywhere.

She's there.

Waiting.

For a moment with him.

Like a big black spider.

I might feel sorry for her.

But I don't.

She hates me too.

I am not weak...

Being a sub does not make me weak

...or foolish
...or addle brained

it does not make me

...fragile
...vulnerable

it does not make me less of a person

I am not a victim
I am not a child

I may be HIS object
but I will not be objectified by anyone else

ever

I am a strong, confident, capable woman

I choose to submit
to endure
to sacrifice
to serve

I choose

I am not forced
I am not coerced
I am not influenced
I am not dominated

I am a force to be reckoned with

and I make
and I own

my own choices

A Little Rant

This is not the worst thing in the world. Maybe it's not even worth bitching about. But it drives me a little crazy, and I just need to rant a little.

Why, why, why can't Sir return e-mail messages? Consistently return text messages? It's not that hard. It just isn't.

~~~ I started this post a few days ago - I should have just gone ahead and posted then, when I had so little to complain about. LOL.

Instead, here I am, wondering wtf I'm doing in this relationship anyhow. He's obviously not really interested in me. He's not really into touching me. He's not into spanking. Or rules or lots of control. He doesn't want to meet my family, even though we're clearly dating, you know, not a mostly phone or online relationship, and have been for a while. And he thinks that making sure I have an orgasm is an obligation rather than something He wants to do. (Yes, he said the obligation part, the rest of it is me.)

No, we haven't argued. As far as I'm concerned there's no point in arguing. Our relationship is still so new that I'm just gathering information about who he is.

And maybe I'm just viewing things through the lens of someone who was on orgasm restriction, and anticipating that ending about 12 hours ago, but here I am still. Tense. Despite having spent an hour in really sensual play that led to him having what he described as an amazingly intense orgasm.

I thought lots of orgasms was the perk of being submissive. Or at least one orgasm. It is not that hard to make me cum.

He promises to take care of me today. That's nice. I predict he'll pull out a tool - probably the Hitachi - and expect to spend a couple of minutes holding it between my legs. I think that's going to make me feel sad.

Damn it. There are lots of things I like about this man. But this is bull - this is not going to work for me.

I guess I need to be talking to him rather than ranting here. But (laughing) this is so much easier.

Words of advice welcome...

Pierced

Just had to let you know that I got my clit pierced today!  Squeeee!  Will post on it when I have time - flying visit.  Loved it and have begged for it for a little while.  Still processing.  This could get addictive...Oh and it was by Sir and in play.  Yeah baby!

Depression Again

 I was complete and okay and whole. 

A day thinking and I am disconnected and not quite sad but melancholic.

Then I look at him and for all of the reasons I want him to leave I don't feel I can ask.

Not now.

But when.

Soon.

But I have said that for a while.

If not aloud, in the corners of my head where I try not to look.

I woke up this morning and I knew it.

In the core of who I am I felt it.

Not in an angry or sad way, not in a terrible way.

It was just there, not even a choice.

It was just - is just the only thing I can do.

For him.

And for me.

Because I cannot look at him in his misery and not wonder if he could be happier somewhere else for one second longer.

Because I cannot keep looking at myself exasperated, sad and nasty in the face of his pathetic incapacity to be a whole person, to be in control of himself.

To own who he is.  

If it was someone else I would not see them that way.

But it is not someone else.

He is him.

And I do love him.

And I want him to be happy.

And I want me to be happy

And I know that here.

We cannot have that.

So I will think about what I have to do for me and for my kids.

And I will move deliberately

And surely

To protect us all from each other.

Because he can't.

That is why it has to be this way.

Want

I want him so badly it burns in my chest.

I want him so badly that when I walk I feel my cunt brushing against my panties.

I want him so badly I feel my nipples tingle and swell when I think of him.

I want him so badly it is blinding. 

It suffocates me.

It wraps me up, cocoons me, keeps me safe.

It exposes me.

It makes me open, vulnerable and exposed.

I want him so badly I only think of him when my heart beats.

And when I think of him my heart beats because I want him so badly.

I blinked

So who would have guessed....I blinked first.

I sent him a text.  I sent him a text apologizing.  I sent him a text saying I had a tantrum.  I sent him a text saying I needed him and couldn't tell him.  I sent him a text saying I was scared to see him.  I sent him a text asking to talk tomorrow.

Nervously I waited holding the phone.  A minute passes.  Maybe two.  I think he is not going to reply.  Reasonably I think maybe he has gone to bed.  Then I think he is not going to talk to me.  Then I think he is not going to talk to me ever.  Then I think well fuck him.  Then I think what the hell will I do. Then my phone blips.  The message is "sure".

Fuck him.  I hate that I know he was just sitting waiting for me to come to him.  I hate that we both knew I would.  I hate him for not checking on me.  I hate his short little response, "sure".  I see it and I read: it's no big deal, whatever, we're cool, its cool, I hardly noticed...I guess in my sub-ly brain I read it as you don't matter.  No matter how much I know he was waiting me out I can't squash that shard of tiny little girl wanting for someone to notice, to care, to come looking and make everything better...

The little girl (when she really was little) decided "fuck the rest of the world I am not asking you for a goddamn thing'.  That is why Mr waits.  He waits for her to stop wishing and state what it is she needs, then he is there not making a fuss, just accepting and calm - but only when she has both the strength and weakness to come to him.  When she stamps her foot and crosses her arms, frowning, tears burning but not falling, lips tight, needing to be seen but not admitting it, it is not enough - can never be enough.  That little girl runs to him because he pulls out of her that need and lets it shine.  He polishes it, tends it, cares for it, nurtures it until she can own it.  When she needs him he cannot come to her because what she needs is to go to him.

The thing I hate most is that after my one really bad day I slipped into this space.  I feel...well I feel so damn subbie.  I am scared to see him because I know I have dropped to a new level of submission.  I don't want to see him because I don't know what that will look like.  I am scared to see him because I don't want to need to see him.  I don't want to want to see him because I feel like my world will collapse if I don't.  I want to go because I choose it, not because I need to breathe the air from his lungs so that I can live.

But I do.

Get Fucked (a little swearing)

So I am withdrawn.

I am not contacting him.  It isn't permanent.  It is just what I am doing now in this moment.  It isn't deliberate.  It is just what I feel like I need to do right now.  Okay so yeah, maybe there is some element of deliberate, conscious thought in there....

The thing is, he should be contacting me.  He should be checking up on me.  He should be asking of me, requiring of me, taking care of his property and he isn't.  So now I am pissed off and I am not contacting him more (so there).  That'll show him.  No I am not trying to get him to take particular actions, topping from the bottom or whatever...not really...

I have done this before and I know it takes a bit of time.  Sometimes longer than others and then I cave and crawl to him, beg of him.  I know he is waiting for me to do it.

I am not going to this time, though.  He should be caring for me, making sure I am okay.  In our last session he pushed me so much further than he should have.  Well maybe not because when I look back I want to re-live it (seriously - how fucked up is ttwd) but he should still be making sure I am okay so he can go GET FUCKED because I am not contacting him.

You would think that when your sub is there, pleading, bleeding, being held down, screaming, you would think that after she takes it, a little more after care would be extended - regardless of how "okay" she seems after.  I had a fucking handprint in bruises on my back from being held down and pushed...well anyway, lets just say fisting has a whole new meaning for me now and where once it meant pure, unadulterated, giant, screaming, squirting orgasms now it also means FUCK YOU MR - I can't believe you would make someone fist my arse you mother fucker.

I can't explain how pissed off I am that I was genuinely withdrawn for one day (yesterday) not sad or anything just blank and then overnight I am morphed into wanting to see him, contemplating how and when and if I will message him.  I wonder how long I can hold out.  I wonder if I will get in trouble if it is a long time or not.  I hate it.  I can't believe I am even thinking about thinking about wanting to see him.

He knows he pushed me too fucking far.  Seriously I came over a hundred times in 9 hours.  Lost count at 80 something.  He thinks just because he can make me cum by telling me to it is funny to watch me....and I guess it is....and I guess I enjoy it...How the fuck it is possible to cum when everything you are is screaming that you don't want to and....oh never mind....

Thanks Bitching Post - clearly I needed to vent...and Mr - a big fat FUCK YOU    (which I am sure will be far from your first or last, why?  because you are a mother fucker.)

Now someone hand me my phone, I really need to arrange to go see him....

Really guys, can someone explain this thing we do again, and why we do it?

Depression

My S/O gets depression.  I hate it.  I have lived with it, around it, through it for my whole life.  I guess it was in my blind spot when we got together and then, about a year after we had moved in together I looked.  I knew there was something not right.  I screwed up my face, furrowed my brow and shook my head....what is it...then it hit my like a baton of lead in the back of the head.  Oh yes, this.  I know what this is.  This is not so good.  FUCK. 

My mother is a chronic depressive.  I watched her, always trying to please, to make her happy and it was never ever enough.  I was never enough.  I was never enough because nothing was enough because she was not enough for herself.  Then one day I stopped and said a big FUCK YOU to everything...

I see my S/O who is a fantastic person, devoted and driven stop his usual life, not sleep.  I see the circles forming under his eyes, that he needs to sleep 20 hours a day (he doesn't - he is high functioning as was my mother).  I see his back as he sits on the computer trying to block out life.  I see his temper short, his expression vacant.  I see the desperation spilling out of him.  He walks through the house under a black cloud, raining on everything, wind whipping everyone's heels.  Some days the cloud is bigger, some days it is smaller some days I think he manages to shove the cloud in his back pocket and pretend it is not there.

After 3 years of hounding he went and saw someone.  He didn't take the medication he was recommended.  He scored 11 out of 13 (13 being the worst you can get, clinical diagnosis being over 6).  He refused to go back and see her after a while.  He promised to see someone else.  He got so bad he moved out.  He came back promising to see someone new.  He didn't.  He has managed so much better.  His bouts were about three to forth monthly, two to three weeks spiraling down, about 3 weeks at rock bottom before he would acknowledge there was something wrong and then a steep two to three weeks climbing back out, a few weeks for everyone to recover and then we would start again.

It has been about nine months this time.  I know things are getting better in terms of his coping strategies BUT every time we hit this it triggers the most massive panic in me.  I feel like I need to run faster and further every time.  I hate him for putting my kids through this, our kids I suppose.  ((I say my kids because he was so badly depressed for the first few years that I was solo parenting.  Infact when he moved out it took the children 3 days to notice - and they were 8 and 4 at the time.  So yeah, there is a bit of hurt there and yeah I do feel self righteous and yeah I do just want to curl up in a ball and cry some days but someone has to be the grown up. ))I hate him for putting me through this.  I hate him for putting him through this.  I hate looking at him and seeing such a pathetic weak piece of shit, unable to make a choice.  I hate that if he does it is a selfish choice.  I hate when he talks to me that it is to either passively sit in morose agreement or to start a fight.  I hate that he is so weak he can't admit to making a mistake.  I hate that I can't truly communicate with him because he can't hear outside his own head.  I hate that I am the only one really here.

I know that it passes, as is the nature of the beast in this case.  My mother was slightly different - she lived permanently wrapped in her blanket of depression, cocooned inside, protected from the world, inflicting her pain on everyone, blaming the world for her emptiness.  He sees it as a failure, that he is faulty, deficient, wrong.  He inflicts his wallowing but it ebbs and flows, goes and comes back.  I am not sure which I hate more, the uncertainty and the pathos or the certainty and the venomous anger.

I look at both my husband and my mother and I understand the rupture.  I see the pain that echos outward, reverberating back, reinforcing itself as THE self, radiating different textures but the same feelings of helpless loss of self.  None of it matters.  In those moments where I hurt I don't care anymore why they feel sad I only wish I didn't have to live it and then I feel bad.  Really bad.  Like I am abandoning a baby because in those moments I know that they aren't there, can't be there for themselves.  I see my husband is getting better but every single bout is hard, almost worse than the previous.  Just when I think I have him there, a real person who I can deal with, talk with and build with, he is gone.

I look to Mr and I see someone who has a big lot of stuff going on.  He talks but from strength - no matter how tough his situation.  He does not anger with me.  He does not blame me.  He does not mope.  He does not goad me into a fight to release his tension.  He talks.  We talk.  He listens still. Importantly, through all of it, I still exist to him as a person.  Most importantly he still exists to me.  He is the same man.  Clearly stressed but present.

That is the thing I think that makes me feel like I am suffocating with both s/o and my mother, like they are gone and I am gone to them. 

That is why I can't keep running to Mr because he breathes for me when for the whole of my life I have been breathing for everyone else.  I can't fix my relationship by outsourcing my coping - that is why I tried to call it off (it was wholly unsuccessful).

That is why I can't stop running to him too.

Plus, truth be told, I care for him far more than I ever ever intended.  That to me smells like danger.

once
pain flowed out of me
in spurts
like water gushing from my
grandmother's
black
water
pump


it flowed
drawing
sorrow
from my bones


now I
return to the pump
piston the lever
and find
the well
has dried

Kiss Me Through

So I asked Mr this morning if he would grant me a break (he is Dom and I am sub - of sorts).

He has an awful lot of stuff going on for him at the moment and I don't want him to feel that I am not there for him.  It just all gets too much sometimes.  Actually that is not true.  Me asking for some time out is about me and my primary relationship.  We have struggled through from the very start and just as things start to look up they skydive again.

All I want is for Mr to whisk me up, tell me everything will be okay, to hold me afloat so I can cope.  I thought about calling him.  I sat crying this morning and it was all I could do to not ring.  Instead I messaged.  I know if I speak with him that everything will melt away.  That I will feel better.  That I won't ask for what it is I think I need.  What I want, secretly want, is for him to say no.  For him to say "no way.  You can't have a break, you are where you need to be."  In some ways I think this may be true.  In other ways it spells disaster.

How is it possible to have this relationship with my other significant other, my primary significant other but be reliant on someone else to fill what it is I need?  How is it possible for it to ever work when I fight with said S/O or things are hard with my life in general and all I want to do is run to Mr, to have him pick up the pieces, to talk me down, to kiss me through.

S/O does not like to kiss, not ever and TBH he isn't that great in that regard.  I was in a session with Mr the other day and he kissed me.  I think my eyes may just have popped out of my head.  The intimacy, intensity and rawness was just overwhelming.


I am starting to rely on Mr too much.  I am starting to want him too much.  I am starting to need him and that puts everything else in a rather unsafe space.

I need to back away to gain some control and perspective but maybe I need to stay for much the same reason.

He hasn't replied yet.  I am trying with everything I have not to ring.

A declaration of love

Someone has to kick things off. Might as well be me.

From my journal -- almost one year ago:

It's Monday -- after a weekend together.

Telling him that I love him has been on the tip of my tongue for about a week.

I was afraid it was just going to slip out casually on the phone. Not the way I wanted to do it.

I decided to tell him On Thursday over dinner. But sometimes he has a hard time reining the pervy in.

The moment wasn't right.

Friday -- I was just plain exhausted
Saturday -- more perviness

Finally -- lolling about in the afterglow, I turned and said, "Don't freak out, but it's occurred to me that I love you"

He told me that he loved me too and he has for a long time.

I love that he knew that I had to be able to get there on my own. Apparently his friends have been teasing him about our avoidance of the "L" word.

It's scary.

Of course
true to form

I felt remorse and relief as soon as it was said.

He's gone overboard -- telling me he loves me too much -- I think he's backlogged.

I don't regret feeling it -- but SAYING it changes us -- takes us to the next place

frightens me

COWARD

yup -- guilty as charged

But I DO love him

God help me -- I DO.

Ok -- should we have some rules?

I've had a few people who've expressed interest -- if this blog is going to remain confidential -- you'll have to choose an alias -- to help readers (if we get any!) to follow your story -- without outing yourself as your other blog-self

It would be great if you entered your new blog-alias in the labels section so people can find your posts easily.

Other than that -- anything goes as long as it's topical -- and isn't mean-spirited towards others who belong to the site. And the usual TOU stuff -- no kids -- no animals -- etc.

Much love to you all

Your moderator -- sfp

So this started off as a joke -- but if anyone does want to join this blog -- the purpose of which is to provide a blogging space for anyone who wants to blog about TTWD without your sub/Dom/partner knowing everything you're sharing

You may do it here.

To request to play --email me at yourpeacefulone@gmail.com

(wouldn't it be hysterical if this took off??)

sfp