An open letter to my friend

Hello sweetheart,

Well what a week you have had. Actually, with what you have revealed, its been 30 years not a week hasn’t it?

I wanted to write this here rather than keep answering your numerous posts on social media, watching you go through myriad of emotions and thoughts in public, knee jerk reactions to what you are being exposed to.

The number ONE thing is,

ANY DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IS WRONG

You blame yourself for what he has done to you, you call yourself names.  That isn’t you talking, that is the person he created, that is his achievement shining bright for him to be proud of. Every time he sees or hears you saying that, he can beat you down even further. Every time he beats you down with words and deeds, he has won again.

No one, and I truly mean no one, has the first idea of what the last 30 years has been like. We can empathise, sympathise, nod wisely and say we have been there, but we haven’t.  Our situations have been similar but they were not your life. What we can say is “when it happened to me….” and give you the benefit of our understanding and mindset from the moment of exposure to the point we are at now.

Sadly my lovely, you are not alone. Domestic violence is all too common.

Your posts speak of fear, anger, helplessness. I wish I could tell you it will soon be over, but for now, it won’t be. What I can tell you is that every hard fought step forward is worth it, no matter what you think. Every time you win the tiniest victory, you are removing yourself from the situation that has blighted your life for so very long.

30 years ago you believed you had found your Prince Charming. You must have been happy for a time. How long I wonder before the shine wore off? No matter. Slowly but surely he wore down your defenses as he realised married life was probably not actually for him. But instead of walking away, he decided to take his disillusion out on the one person who loved him heart and soul, the person who put up with his moods, clothed him, fed him, looked after him, sympathised when he wasn’t happy and laughed with him when he was.

When his laugh became spiteful it was hard and at first you fought back, but then for the sake of a happy life for your children you took it, hoping they would not notice and would continue to grow up into the beautiful girls you wished for. They did. Chalk up 1-0 to you.

How long until you started to believe him when he put you down and called you names I wonder. As he wore you down and insecurity took over, you let other things take over your life to give you comfort.  I have only known you for a short time but from knowing and watching you I would say other than your children, food and clothes comforted you most.  This gave him more ammunition.

As you spiralled into the depression that accompanies mental abuse you became less sure of yourself, self esteem, self confidence, self assurance all shrunk to tiny little parts of you, as your insecurities grew.

Meanwhile his power over you fed him, made him bigger and uglier than ever before, his misery was caught up in mental health issues, blatant cheating and probably many other manifestations involving money, work etc. His only pleasure was making you small, the object of his misery. He wasn’t  man enough to simply walk away, so he blamed you.

And then, finally, gloriously even, it came to a head.

I can see you pulling faces at my choice of words there. How can the beating you took and the terror you felt possibly be described as glorious ?

Because, my lovely, if he hadn’t done it, you would still be there enduring the hate, you would be hiding from the world behind the mask of a lovely smile. He has given you the chance to walk away from it and into a world that loves you.

I know you are scared at what happens next, I know you are enduring the shittiest treatment from his side of the family and his friends. It is going to be hard to ignore them, but that is what you must do.

If charges are not being pressed, press them. If you are living at home, change the locks. Look online at domestic violence charities, they can help you meet payments, tell you what to claim, walk you through prosecution and divorce proceedings, they may even be able to find you a solicitor. Listen to YOUR friends who have been there. You will come out of the other side of it and you will win.

The next 6 to 12 months are going to be hard, I am not going to lie to you, I never have. There are times you are going to want to give up, seriously give up, it’s those times your friends can help the most. Don’t  ever give up, if you do, he has won and that cannot happen again.

Block anyone who naysays you on social media, block him. Inform him everything is through your solicitor, do not talk to him, you have tried and it failed. Have nothing further to do with him.

Sort out your stuff, sell some, give some to charity, send his stuff to his mother, let her deal with him. If he comes to the door, call the police. A huge amount of this is staying organised and on top of it. Never be afraid to shout for help, your true friends will step up.

Get counselling and go see your Doctor. Neither is an admission of failure and both will be needed at some point.

Lastly, trust your girls to look out for you as much as you do for them, they know what you have endured, don’t be afraid to cry together.

Every day is another step on the path to the new you. Hold your head high.

 

All my love

 

Me xxxxx

I cannot be that which….

I am not.  This will only be a short entry I think.

I have been looking at pictures of women who think they are not beautiful.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say, but does that include yourself?

These women have posted pictures of themselves in sultry poses where they do look stunningly beautiful, the sexual confidence exudes from them although the profess not to have it.

And then there is me.

I don’t feel sultry, I don’t feel sexy.

I dress as prettily as I can, I love nice underwear but how can you feel sexy when your bra wire is digging in your armpit and as you look at yourself standing there in your knickers all you can see is the overhang of your belly, creating folds of skin.  I see a pretty face, then I look down and see a double chin.

I look at my boobs and I know that no matter what, they are always, always going to be small, big girls don’t necessarily have big tits sadly.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have lost 5 stone and I am very proud of myself, but it doesn’t mean I dont have days like this when my body confidence needs a poke in the ear.

I have a kind heart and a good soul but you know what? I want to look sexy, I want to look sultry, I want to be able to pose sexily not be held up by my damn joints.  But most importantly….

I want to feel sexy again.

Since the onset of my interesting times my entire confidence has been undermined.  Everything I do is haunted by what is occurring.   I want my determination and love of life back.

I want to feel good about my exercise and my weight loss because it makes me look good and feel good, not simply because it does my health good.

I am full of a lot of I wants at the moment.  For that I apologise. But to be honest, its only a small I want.  I want to feel beautiful.

 

No strings attached?

‘The more you have sex with someone, the more likely you are to build up a bond or addiction to their energy.  Sexual energy can be overwhelmingly addictive and put you in predicaments you wouldn’t otherwise put yourself into.  More often than not a person can become obsessed with another person through sex, if that energy fills a void inside of them, that they themselves aren’t capable of filling.  Be mindful of who you lay with, it can sometimes be more than you can handle.’

This was posted by another of my friends on Facebook.  We don’t know each other in the physical sense but he is a deep thinker and I enjoy his thoughts and the way he expresses himself.  Why he likes me I have no clue, I am probably just a quirky Brit!

Anyway I digress.  I was triggered to think more deeply by this particular entry, as you know the ‘no strings attached’ approach is one I leant towards in the past to deal with my depression, my sexual appetite and my diversity in sex.  But did I manage to stick to it?

No.  Thats the very short answer.

Sometimes.  Thats the intermediate answer.

Yes. Thats the liars answer.

OK so lets ignore the liars answer.  The intermediate answer can be expanded on a little more and the short answer can probably tie me in knots.

If you lie with someone once, just once and there is no spark, no power exchange then you would not be desperate to repeat that ‘going through the motions’ routine.  The person you lie with may be really nice, you could get on like a house on fire but if you simply don’t feel it then all the tea in China will not change that.  Its happened to me in the past and while I have remained friends with the person involved, it has only ever been friends.

If you lie with someone and the spark knocks you off your feet then No Strings Attached goes totally and utterly out of the window.  Now you can kid yourself that you don’t feel anything and you can walk away from it but you can’t.  If the spark touches what you NEED then you especially cannot walk away, power like smoking is an addiction, a drug of choice and whether you choose to give it or receive it, it is still something that you crave.

Married men, attached men, cheat because on the whole something in their sexual encounters with their partners is not fulfilling the need, it is not triggering what makes their hearts and cocks go BOOM!!  Now I say men but of course I don’t exclusively mean men, I am simply writing from a woman’s ‘perspective’ but of course women cheat too, women can be unfulfilled sexually and they will, in many cases go and look for something to fill that void.

And that, dear readers is where the trouble starts.

A woman meets a man, hes tall, handsome, buff with a good cock and he just wants some dirty sex.  Now by dirty I don’t mean dirt dirty, I mean no holes barred, sexually charged fucking.  He kisses her in a way her husband never does, biting and sucking, tongues playing.  His hands move over her appreciatively, not grabbing or squeezing.  Foreplay exists with this NSA man, she sucks his cock happily, while she doesn’t her husbands.  This NSA man takes pleasure in watching the woman gush all over his hands as he fingers her, the pleasure in his voice and her moans as her orgasm washes over her and physically and visibly washes over him.  The sound of satisfaction as he buries his cock deep into her, slapping wetly against her thighs, their moans of pleasure combining as he takes her every which way.  They finally reach their crescendo and then, ignoring the wet patches they lie down and talk, his arm around her, her curved against him.  But its NO STRINGS ATTACHED right?

Bullshit! This is not no strings attatched.  I don’t care who you are, this is something you want again, and again, and again.  This is primal need.  This is the beginning of your addiction, of a feral need with every breath for more of the same.  This is an obsession that is only going to get bigger and deeper.

Now, if you are lucky you can find this person is someone who wants the same but who, at the same time is willing to acknowledge it and with you will control and master it so that no one, including yourselves get hurt.  If you are unlucky, it can and very probably will destroy you and those around you that you love.

I am lucky, very lucky.  My sexual addictions have been in the same situation as me and go out of their way to not hurt those they love with their deceit.  Because whatever colour you paint it, it is deceit, it is betrayal and it is not what you took your vows and commitments for.  I have ended up with some very good friends, some very good addictions.  There comes a time when that addiction is no longer as strong, it becomes complacent and in its complacency becomes routine which is what you already have at home.  Boring.

At that point you look for a new power exchange and you release your No Strings Attached to do the same.  This is the point at which you find it never was NSA and you are kidding yourself to think it was, he tells you hes fucking someone else, he asks if you are and you say yes, his demeanour changes, you feel a pang of jealousy over this unknown woman.  But hang on a moment, you released him, he no longer fulfilled you, and lets face it, he was No Strings Attatched, right?

This is also why open relationships don’t work.  Because there is no such thing as NSA.

There is cheating, one night stands, no chemistry and too drunk to remember.  There is separation and divorce, there is even ‘on a break’ but there is no such thing as No Strings Attached.

Look who is back

Well its taken since September but my last Daddy Dom has been in touch.

I had emailed him in the throes of my interesting times and told him to leave me alone and not to contact me again.  When it all started I emailed him and told him what was going on, and he quite simply abandoned me, not a word.

I have changed in that time and its time to act on that.

He emailed me profusely sorry, I could have just ignored him but I chose not to because a) I am not like that and b) I wanted to vent my wrath.  So I wrote back to him and told him not to expect me to be nice, not to expect anything really but that I would not stop him emailing me further if he wanted to.  He did.

So since then we have been emailing.  I have told him I no longer want it to be Daddy and me, I need friends, support and love, not sex and Dominance.  To be quite honest I don’t want it any more, I just want to be ME.   I want him to know the grown up me, not the little me.

I am 52 but I love with the trust of a small child, and I need to put grown up me first.  My inner little is very persuasive and gets its own way far too much and I dont want that any more.  Its taken decades for this to come about, I let my little guide me when I was in my 20s because it was easier, softer, kinder to me than having to face what I was going through at that time.  She became my crutch and because of that, I became vulnerable to manipulation.

Now.  Please dont think that I use the word manipulation in a bad way, quite on the contrary, I have been lucky enough to have the most wonderful Daddies along the way who have enclosed me and kept me safe, who have recognised the vulnerability in me and made sure that I have not been taken advantage of BUT in doing that they have used their Domination of me to their own means, they have, for the most part only known the little me, not the adult me and that cannot happen anymore.  My little will always be part of me but its now up to me to be mother, not rely on a Daddy.

It doesn’t mean I am not submissive, sexually I will always be submissive, there are always some things that you will never shake because you are simply programmed into believing it.   But submissiveness is not about age its about a state of mind.  I will never be able to shake that state of mind that I am not in charge when it comes to sex and I am fine with that.

So what to do.  I do want him in my life, I have been told by at least 2 friends (both Doms) to tell him to ‘get tae fuck’ which made me smile.  Its nice to know that I am protected by good people but I have chosen to say thank you to them and make my own path.

I want him in my life BUT I want him in my life first and foremost as my friend.  I want him to understand me, I want him to take the time to know me and have told him that.  I don’t think hes truly happy about that and hes especially not happy that the DD/lg side is no longer of interest or needed by me at this time in my life.  I have told him that as he will always be Dominant and I will always be submissive but until I decide the time is right ‘it’ is simply not going to happen.

We shall see how time progresses us, I hope its a positive outcome, I love him very much and when all is said and done my friends are incredibly important to me and I count him among the best.

Life goes on, I hope that as I sail through it, the people I love come with me and continue to understand me.

 

 

Over here, a Trump is a Fart

Opinions are like arseholes, everyone has one, including me.

Everyone has offered their opinion on Donald Trump and so I see no reason why I shouldn’t too.

I have never liked him, I watched him on The Apprentice many years back  and quickly came to the conclusion that this man was in every way, simply not in touch with the world in general.  Why? Because if you are not for him, you do not figure on his radar.  Unless you forward HIS cause and his alone, then he is not interested in you.  BUT that said, he is easily led by those he surrounds himself with, mostly because those people are adept in stroking egos to forward their own ambitions and his needs stroking constantly.

I don’t know much about the mans background and quite frankly I am not interested in it, because I doubt it would influence my view of this man.  I look at him and see a man who is insecure with little or no self confidence.  He rides a wave of bullying and sexism, he is racist and a bad businessman.  This business man has now been unleashed on an entire country and the ripples of that are being felt globally, with countries telling their millitary to prepare for war.  The reasons for this could be manifold but I rather suspect that its simply that Trump is so incredibly mercurial that no one knows where they stand.

His choices are astonishing, his choices for his most important advisors are being filled by fellow businessmen, policians that are clueless about the area of ‘expertese’ they have been put in charge of or promoted to.  He wants to build a wall between the USA and Mexico to stop illegal immigrants coming in.  Now while I do sort of see where he is coming from, the idea is foolhardy and the intention of having Mexico pay for it is laughable.  Its never going to happen.  The ban on immigration from 7 predominantly muslim countries to try and shield the country from terrorism.  Ok on paper and on the surface BUT and it is a huge but, WHY these particular 7 countries?  Trump states that its because of the terror threat, but it takes little looking online to discover that they are predominantly Muslim and that these countries are where Trump has little or no input financially.  If you look further, the biggest terrorist atrocities in recent times have been commited by people from the countries that Trump has left out.  The cynic in me and many others notices that he has financial leanings in all of these countries.  So the excuse of it being to stop the incoming  of terrorists and ‘illegals’ is a very poor excuse.

He has called for an investigation into fraudulent voting whilst at the same time having advisors and family members who are registered to vote in 2 states.  Ok fair enough as long as they use only 1 vote, but who knows?

He calls media ‘fake’ if it is against him whilst at the same time his press are referring to ‘massacre’s that never happened and instead of calling a lie a lie they choose to call them ‘alternative truths’.

He has dismissed polls which show he is unpopular as ‘false’ and therefore he is more popular than ever.

He is accusing the media of hiding terrorist attacks, WHY would they?

His bedfollows are quite frankly frightening.

I cannot admit to knowing about US politics, I have to rely on a sometimes biased media (in both directions) and my own common sense to make head or tail of it.  This man scares me on so many levels but the main on is that he is being put in charge of a country.   Millions of people, children.  I am not denying that a business approach to politics may well work, but not his approach, not the approach of a man who has been declared bankrupt at least 3 times.

I can understand many reasons that people were, in my opinion, taken in by him but to trust him to look after a country in the best interests of the middle and working class, ground level americans is misguided.

I am going to leave the last words on this entry with a friend of mine on Facebook who DID vote for Trump and her reasons for doing so.  She told me that she didn’t know why she felt she needed to justify her choices but she did, she was tired of being called names and people simply being nasty to her because of her choice.  I could understand where she was coming from because of the upheaval over the UK leaving the EU.   She said the following…

‘Trump and the Republicans will cut a lot of things from the budget.  A lot of things people feel are their right to have will be gone.  Both American citizens and people outside our borders.  But they are not rights, they are privileges (I am talking about Arts Endowment and Legal Aid etc, not  health related services).  People who have had access to these things tend to get rights and privilege mixed up. 

But we HAVE to cut money and its going to hurt.  All of us, not just Democrats.  We have to stop the financial bleeding.  Who will save us when we need it?  No one is big enough.  And I think if one looks at it from that perspective and really tries to see that, they will understand why he got elected and why we have to stop spending. 

America wants to be the helping hand, thats why we do it, we realise how lucky we are and as a Christian founded nation know we are here to help others.  But we have overdone it and in order to hope to be able to do it again, we have to first not NEED a helping hand. 

We really are not out to leave people abandoned and without basic needs that we have historically provided.  We are aware of how much it affects other people in other countries and we are grateful that you care enough to be vocal about it’.

I had this conversation with her the first few days of Trump being in power.  I would be interested to hear if she still thinks she made the right decision AND if at some point she decides the decision was wrong, what the turning point is/was.

This man is managing to split an already dysfucntional country in two, the rift is deeper and wider than it has ever been in my lifetime and opinion but that said, I wish all my american friends luck in their political future and the effect it may have on their lives.

My interesting times.

I have said I am not going to go into detail and I am not but I will tell the effects of it.

I have had and continue to have nightmares, my depression is on an even keel but my medication has been upped.  I rarely spend the same night in one bed, often moving to the spare room to spare my husband my tossing and turning.

I am terrified constantly, my nightmares and the ongoing issues almost guarantee that, my demons growl at me, my anger eats at me.  My walls I so carefully built are gone, rubble at my feet, although I am hunting for the plaster to put them back up again.

My family.  My living parent and sibling have to take my situation into account on a daily basis, my husband is angry, my son is confused and angry, not only does he have puberty and Aspergers to deal with but now also the feeling of guilt that it is all his fault and the subsequent angst that has conjured up.

When it first started I sat down and very seriously contemplated taking my own life, that my life and its current issues was and is not for my family to take on, its not for them to bear, and so I thought of ways I could quietly go and never be found.  God knows I have enough medication to do it, just drive out to a remote field and that would be the end of it.  I couldn’t do it in the end.  Not because I am a coward, I am not.  There is only one reason I am still here.  My son.  My sun and moon, my stars, my life.  I could not bear the thought of him questioning why for the rest of his life, even sitting here typing this now is making me cry, such is my love for him.  I would die for him, but I will not kill myself to spite him.  That is unfair and wrong and would fuck him up forever.  Thats not fair.

So I stay and fight my demons.  I sit and wait for the interesting times to come to an end, I look forward to a time when me and my family can simply be a family once more.

Please god that will be soon.

Power.

The power of power.

I am not even sure how to write this, I just know that somehow I need to get things out of my mind and try and find a solution, an answer, a reason behind things.  Until I do my life will never be at peace, it will be a facade.

Everyone, man, woman and child, craves power over things through their lives.

A child shows power over siblings, over peers, its part of the learning process and is a necessary thing to enable said child to find their place in life.

Men and women show power over things throughout their lives, they enhance what they learn in childhood and add to it.

Power is something that takes so many forms that it is difficult to encase within one post, so to be honest I don’t believe I am going to try, not in the great scheme of things, it is too broad a subject to discuss.

But.

What if that power is taken away from you at childhood?

Yes I am referring to me.  Of course I am its only natural, this is my blog and my thoughts so therefore I will be referring to myself.

I don’t ever remember being anything but a gentle child.  My mother and her siblings always reiterate what a ‘good little girl’ I was.  How I always did as I was told, I was never any trouble to anyone and never ever caused anyone problems despite being moved from pillar to post.

I remember being happy, I remember being a small child, smiling, laughing, loving everyone I came into contact with, trusting them implicitly.  Had I been a child now, my mother would have gone out of her mind with worry, such was my trust of strangers etc.  Everyone was a friend, from the moment I said hello.  It was, as I remember, blissful.

The perfection was moving to the countryside, wide open spaces, sunshine and friends.  I could not have been more loved and more happy, I had no need of power, I was simply content to be with my peers, all of us taking charge at one point or another, never falling out, never bullying, never trying to get the better of one another.

My perfection was shattered.  My abuser came along.  The man I called Uncle.  These current interesting times have opened doors long sealed shut, memories I have hidden, not wishing to open the doors for fear of what is inside.

He took any power I had and kept it for his own.  The word NO was not allowed, much less in my vocabulary, I never said no, I was a good child, I did as I was told, never refused to do anything, just simply did it for the simple pleasure of bringing happiness to whomever I was ‘obeying’.

By the time I reached my teens, way beyond the end of my child abuse I was an introvert.  I didn’t go anywhere or do anything that others did, I was badly bullied at school, yet more power taken from me this time the bullying had started at 11yrs old and continued until I was almost 16.  Rather than assert power, I put my head down and ‘obeyed’ whoever wanted to take it.  I spent time with my peers but I spent that time looking up to them, wishing I was them, that I had the confidence and the power to be like them, but I didn’t and they fed on mine.

Then my introduction to the BDSM world.  It was for me ideal.  I was subservient, submissive and everything a Dominant could wish for.  Sadly for me, it was the wrong Dom and he took every piece of power I had left.  He turned me into a sniveling , whiny wreck.  I was nothing.  I was worthless.

I never recovered from it.

I tried to, I tried so hard to recover from it.  I tried so hard to find some power.  I worked in a job where I could wield the power of life or death over people, or at least thats how I saw it, although I would and never did deny anyone the right to life.  I found a husband that was ‘weak’ who did not try and order me about who did not try and overpower me.  But still I was powerless.

My depression stayed with me, overtook me at times, confirming that I had no power, not even to look after my own mind.  I almost died after having my son, I never had the power to heal myself, which in the great scheme of things was a ridiculous notion anyway but the simple ability to be able to have the power to take care of my son in his early days was taken from me by illness.

I lost my job, powerless to cure an ongoing health issue, powerless to stop the upper management from terminating my contract for the job I had been in and loved for almost 30 years.

I was powerless to stop the business I went into from failing, despite all my hard work, my hands were tied on so many occasions, simply because it was not my business to have power over.

In my depression, in my deepest darkest hours, I found a way.

Online Sex chat.

Now those of you who know me outside of the realms of the tinternet are probably looking at the screen and going ‘well DUH’ but to some its not so obvious.

I found a number of chat rooms where I was quite literally, Queen.  I was the most powerful person in the ‘room’ and I played to that.  The feeling of power was unequaled.  The thing that made it even more powerful for me was that I had ultimate and absolute power by doing one simple thing.  I talked dirty to these men I despised and then at that crucial moment, I simply walked away.  I shut down the chatspace and left them hanging without an end to their need.

It took me a while to learn the signs online but I did and I breathed in the power radiating from the screen into me.

The strangest thing, the thing that comes back and haunts me most is that I do not remember one of these conversations.  I remember odd words, phrases etc but otherwise nothing, not who, what, how, when, anything.  I simply blocked it for the power.  The action of obtaining the power had an adverse effect though.  Shame.  Guilt.  I often came offline and cried or threw up, feeling the guilt and the shame of what I had done to make myself feel more powerful.

My interesting times forced me to curtail that activity.  It turned out to be less of an issue to do than I originally believed it would be.

I am still a submissive, that side of me will never go, I know that now.  But there is a difference between being submissive and being a doormat.  I am not a doormat, I have a mouth and I can, believe it or not, speak.  So that is what I will do.

I have power, its simply more subtle than I ever imagined it to be.

Does anger EVER die?

Well? does it?  I am inclined to think that it doesn’t.

We get angry about things and that anger passes, we miss something being said and are angry, that anger dissipates, someone hits our car and again that anger will fizzle and eventually die but real, deep seated anger? No, that never goes away, it simply gets buried until something triggers it once more.

I am angry, deeply, terrifyingly angry.  Something has been done to me that has given rise to this anger, but not only that, it has ensured that ALL past angers have resurfaced to take me over and turn me into a simmering pot of incandescent rage.

I sit and think of things which date back to when I was a small child, to that age when I should have been innocent but that innocence was taken from me, piece by piece and inch by inch until nothing on this planet came as a surprise until now.  I sit and think of that and my whole being turns into a hissing, spitting, mewling mass of hate, lashing out at anyone who comes near me, and in turn, hating myself for allowing it to take me over.

My childhood was stolen, my teenage years were stolen, my early 20s were stolen until finally, I became so unaware of my worth that I didn’t care who stole what, and I let myself be stolen inch by inch until I owned not one speck of me.

I was in my 30s when I finally grabbed what was left of me and started to embrace it, started to lock away the anger, started to become me.  Almost too late but not quite.

So now we forward to my 50s and I find I have a child and a husband to care for.  Not just care for but also to protect and keep safe from the things in my life that angered me, to ensure that they learn from my mistakes and not their own while protecting them from the mistakes at the same time.  I find myself in interesting times which means that on many levels I can no longer protect them from what was me, what IS me.

For all these years of marriage I have bemoaned the fact that my husband did not want to know anything of me prior to our meeting, wailing that he did not know me, did not understand me, when all the time it was saving me the job of protecting him from it.

Had my husband known about me, the hidden me, I would have had to work harder to protect him and our son from the various backlash moments that have come along when really all I have done is stand and absorb them while they blindly and beautifully carry on with their lives, blissfully unaware.

My anger exhausts me.  It does not drive me, I am too old to be driven any more and too full of anger to let it drive me, if I did, it would destroy me as surely as a cancer.

I am an angry 6yr old

I am an angry 17 yr old

I am an angry 22 yr old

I am an angry 37yr old

I am an angry 51 yr old

So much anger for one person.  So much anger.  How is it possible I can carry this much anger?  I cannot fathom it for myself so how can I expect others to understand it? To deal with it? To sympathise and empathise with it?

It makes my head hurt, not just headaches, not pain as such, just a feeling of overwhelming emotions.  I want to stand in a field and scream until there is nothing left to let out.  If you have seen The Green Mile, you will understand what I see in my minds eye.  A John Coffey moment as I open my mouth and the blackness leaves me in a cloud, to rise and leave me empty .  I want to do that, I want to find a way to let all this black anger out and leave me peaceful.  All I have at this time is this blog, this is my John Coffey, my Pensieve, my vent.  But it is never enough.

I am constantly angry, I wake and my jaw is locked, my muscles aching.  I cannot remember a time when I did not wake up this way, carrying all this inside of me.

If I let go, it WILL destroy me, so I must hold it, I must lock it down again, I must learn to deal with it once more, in a better, different way, a way that ensures I don’t destroy me or those I love.

So I breathe deeply and lock a little more of this anger back into its cell, it screams and claws and hammers at the door, calling me names and cursing me.

But it will not win.  It has never won and I will never let it.

I’m back, its been a long time….

So, here I am dear blog and what a torrid and interesting time I am currently living in.

I am not going to go into full details here, after all, even though it is my blog it IS also a public forum and some things are better left unsaid.

I have spent long hours thinking since I was last here, contemplating more about my life.  My long thought buried demons resurfacing hard and fast, to overtake my life day and night until I have nothing else within my soul except one question.

Why?  Why would you, and you know who you are, take pleasure in this?  I don’t even think you are here in my locality to watch what it does to me and my family, so why?

Is your life so small and so sad that you take pleasure in the malicious meddling that you have done?  Do you enjoy confusing a child, and not just a child, a child who has such a different outlook on life, who doesn’t see things the way perceived normal people see life, who wears his heart on his sleeve every second of every day of his life.

Do you take pleasure now, in knowing that this child has been deeply affected by the current situation, that he believes to his innocent and beautiful soul that all this is his fault? Does that give you a ripple of thrill down your spine? Does it make your cunt wet? Your dick hard? You sick and sad individual.

Anger does not even touch what is buried deep inside me, I feign nonchalance to save my family the blunt truth of my emotions, to save my own soul from destroying itself with bitterness and the need for revenge.  There will be revenge, somehow, some way, I will find out who you are and give you a taste of this interesting time.

So now, I come, dear blog, to vent my spleen and share my revelations.  Revelations on my emotions, my thoughts and the way I have conducted my life.  Revelations on sudden moments of epiphany  all swimming around in my head, waiting for my pensieve moments.

So, on we go dear blog, brace yourself, its time to dive in.

This just popped up

On my feed and seemed somewhat appropriate.

Consider it done.