Little Human and Me

I’m not the parental type.  I have no children, nor any desire to have my own little humans.  Normally, I shy away from little humans of most ages due to a strong feeling of anxiety when I’m around them.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a baby or a teenager, the anxiety builds until I get away or I panic.  I don’t understand them and I don’t have the patience necessary to be around little humans. 

Last night there was an exception.  My roommate and I met for dinner with Christine and her besties family.  I sat next to their six year old son while his parents sat across the table.  I took it upon myself to entertain this child since his parents were busy with his little brother.  I couldn’t stand looking at him sitting all alone with his parents giving most of their attention to his younger brother.  I’m sure he’s used to it and has found ways to entertain himself. 

Growing up the younger child, I was the one who always got the attention while my sister had to help my mother with me.  I’m empathetic to this little human and his new responsibilities placed upon him at such a young age.  He deserves to be doted on like his little brother, and for a short time I wanted to do this for him.  Maybe I felt like it was my duty to make up for all the times my sister changed my diaper, made me breakfast, and gave me a new bottle.  I’m not sure, but I saw in this child a young adult in a tiny body that needed a little bit of extra attention, and I was able to offer it.  He needed an hour to be able to act like the six-year-old that he is.

Amazingly, I didn’t feel the normal anxiety that I have when I’m near a small human like him.  Together we worked on the puzzles and colored the children’s placemat provided by the restaurant.  I helped him unscramble the words and learn his letters.  It was fun and he got excited with every new activity we found on the little piece of paper.  Watching his smile and his eyes light up with joy was incredible and made me feel just as happy.

When the activities were complete, I pulled out my phone.  I have no apps on my phone for children, of course, so I figured I’d download a free one or two.  As soon as he saw Candy Crush on my phone, that was it.  Daniel, in all his excitement, went wild and wanted to play.  Since I have been stuck on one particular level for a day now and can’t seem to get past it I figured this can’t hurt.  What does the little human do?  He conquers the level I can’t get past.  Sigh…

I helped him order his food and when we received it, I cooled it down for him.  At six, he is pretty much self-sufficient so he ate on his own – this is either a product of good parenting or being the older sibling.  I gave him some of my mac-n-cheese and watched him eat his quesadilla.  I felt like the Grinch whose heart was two sizes too small and now ballooned with love and fascination for this little human – at least temporarily.

Overall, I had a great night.  I was amazed at my ability to remain calm and amuse this child.  Does this make me want to have children or entertain the idea of becoming a mother?  No.  Little humans in small doses are all I need.  Later in the evening, I’m pretty sure I felt my heart shrink back down to its normal size.

Being Normal

Every work day I wake up and go to work.  I don’t really think much about life and what is going on around me until I start to head home for the day.  Usually on my way home, I reflect back on the day and my actions.  I ask myself, how did I do today?  Did I have any brief manic episodes, or how did work, and the people around me, make me feel today?  This is usually when I ponder how I am handling my medication changes.

I’ve been on the Seroquel now for just over a month.  The mania has gotten to the point where I am settled and normal.  I’m not manic and I’m not depressed…I’m just…normal.  It’s an odd feeling really.  I’ve lost those moments of extreme elation coupled with strange eccentricities and I’ve evened out.  I don’t know what to do with myself now.

Not only gone are the manic cycles, but so are the depressive cycles.  Again, this is another strange feeling.  I used to wear my depression like it was a second skin; it was a way to protect myself from further damage.  Now it’s gone and I don’t know what to do.  I can’t cry anymore, I can’t feel sad anymore.  I’m…normal.

I keep using this word normal over and over again.  What is normal?  Normal to me is bland.  It’s a state of no feeling.  I don’t know if I’m happy or sad now.  What should I be?  Should I be happy the medication is working and no longer causing me to be bizarre around my friends?  Or should I be happy that the medication has finally taken away the relentless sadness that has been enveloping me for months, even years?

This is why people with mood cycling disorders do not continue their medication for long.  We miss the highs from the mania.  It’s like a drug or a sirens call to us.  We crave these feelings because that is when we feel our best.  We hate this… this… normal feeling.  We don’t want to be normal.  If we could remain manic the rest of our lives and not hurt ourselves, or the people around us, we would find a way.  But sadly, we cannot.  Being in a manic state, while fun and exciting, is potentially harmful to ourselves and those we care about.  While manic, we don’t think about the effects we have on ourselves or surroundings – it doesn’t matter.  What matters is right now and the good time we are having.

While I am glad that I am normal, I’m struggling to cope.  This is a new feeling for me.  I equate it to being on a roller coaster and then getting off.  You want to go again right away because it was fun, but then there was also that long wait in line that takes an hour.  We want the fun – we want to get back on and do it all over again – but we don’t want the wait that goes along with it so we move on and hope something else comes along that will capture our interest.

March Beer-Cation

This weekend Christine and I had another beer-cation.  This time we went to Jacksonville.  Our first stop was at Brewer’s Pizza.  There we met with another friend and sampled Pinglehead Imperial American Amber brewed on the premise.  The beer is an imperial red ale that was slightly hoppy and a medium body.  It paired great with the pizza we had for lunch.

From there, we made our way to Green Room Brewery in Jacksonville Beach.  I had their Tsumani Szechuan Saison.  It’s a traditional saison brewed with Szechuan peppers.  This beer was spicy but light.  I also had the Undertow which is a barleywine.  It’s brewed with orange blossom honey and had was light and refreshing but yet complex.  I enjoyed both.

As we walked into Green Room’s Taproom, we met up un-expectantly with a couple friends we’ve met from The Abbey in DeLand.  It was a nice surprise and we made plans to meet up with them later at the Silver Cow.  We sat at the bar and were served by Joey, a UF Gators fan.  It was fun harassing him since Christine is a graduate of UCF and also an FSU fan.  We had him cracking up the entire time we sat there.

There was also the douchebag driving the convertible Corvette.  He was so full of himself he made sure that his conversation carried throughout the entire taproom.  At one point, he was on his cell phone talking about finding a rental house and that he was not going to pay $1200/month.  Then his “employee” joined him at the bar and again we heard him discussing a business deal with his “employee” telling him he would have to invest money in the deal.  That to me does not sound like and employer/employee relationship – that’s more of a money laundering deal.

We left Green Room and made our way to Engine 15 brewery.  Here we both had Van Diest Fruli Strawberry Wheat and then I had a flight of Engine 15 beers. My liver started screaming at me but I showed it who was boss and continued drinking.  We also tried their beer cheese dip and pigs in a blanket.  Both were exceptional.

Now it was time to head to Silver Cow.  This is where we met up with our friends from earlier.  This place was small and quaint.  Coffee table books of all different topics were placed sporadically throughout the bar along with a couch at one end of the place.  Our friends were on the couch and we joined them in chair across from them.  Instead of beer, I tried their house pinot noir.  It was awful and tasted like cardboard.  Normally, I love a good red wine.  This was bad but I couldn’t waste perfectly good alcohol so I drank it.

It was getting late so we decided to find our hotel.  Neither of us had a real meal most of the day.  Christine checked in and we went on a hunt for a small bite to eat.  Big mistake.  Urban Spoon said that Jacksonville Grill was a good choice but it left us wandering a bad neighborhood fearing for our safety.  At this point, we decided to forgo food since we’ve had enough carbs from beer all day and go back to the hotel.  Never again Urban Spoon!  I’ll use Yelp now.

We found our room and crashed.  Both of us slept pretty well. 

The next morning we found Metro Diner.  OMG!  Incredible food!!!

I ordered the three egg breakfast with a side of sausage gravy and biscuits.  I love sausage gravy and I try to sample it if it’s available.  Christine had the surf and turf eggs benedict with a crab cake and ribeye steak.  She called it man-food.  I call it all delicious.  The portions were huge and so incredibly yummy.  For anyone passing through Jacksonville, you must eat here!

Today, we decided to slow down a little.  It didn’t help that most taprooms were closed on Sunday.  We found our way to 7 Bridges, which is not a brewery but they do have craft beers.  We sat at the bar and had a delightful conversation with the bartender as she prepared for the day.  She kept us laughing all morning.  I had an Irish Red Ale while Christine and I shared their warm cinnamon donuts.  Both were delicious.  The bartender gave us two pilsner glasses to take home with us.  I have a few pilsner glasses and I was all too happy to add another to my collection.

Next stop was River City Brewing Company.  They had a brunch buffet going on and lots of people eating.  We made our way to the bar to discover a very frazzled bartender.  She was all over the place and letting out her frustrations for the entire bar to see and hear.  I felt sorry for her.

I ordered bloody mary – it is brunch after all!  Christine and I made our way outside to sit in the sun along the water way.  It was nice to enjoy getting some rays while lying across a wood bench drinking my bloody mary.  The seagulls were squawking and the river was lapping at the boat’s hulls. 

Rather than continuing to drink, we walked around the Museumof Science and History.  It is a small museum and worth the $8 admission for students/$10 for adults.  I discovered a rather large splinter in the back of my heel.  We couldn’t get it out so I continued on, limping.  The exhibits were small and certainly not Smithsonian quality, but there are plenty of hands on experiences for children.

Tired from the weekend activities, we started making our way toward home.  Of course, we can’t drive near JB’s Fish Camp without making a stop for awesome seafood along the lagoon.  Our waitress felt she was not attentive enough to us because another large table next to us kept dragging her attention away so she gave us free oreo pie.  It was just as yummy as the shrimp I had for dinner. 

I felt bad for her.  She was running ragged, trying to make this table happy, but they were terrible customers.  Every five minutes they kept asking for another order of this or that and not letting her take care of her other tables.  They were clearly disrespectful to her and exceptionally needy.  Please be kind to your servers.  They are not super heroes that can read your mind or magically make your food appear.

My tab came to $10.69.  In fear she wouldn’t get a good tip from the mean people at the other table, I gave her $10 tip.  Christine did the same too.  I hope we made her smile.

Returning home, I unpacked, cleaned my bathroom a bit and then crashed.

Where Do I Belong?

Last night I was having a particularly low night.  It wasn’t too low, and it was short, but still the thoughts of vulnerability were there.  I snuggled with my stuffie bear I named Gunnor and wondered, “Where do I belong?”

I had a friend that I was close with for a while and we had great communication, but no more.  He’s off doing his own thing and I’m left behind.  I miss this interaction we had and the critical conversations we often shared.  When I had a thought or an idea I wanted to explore, I would send him an e-mail and get a logical, well thought out, response back that challenged my opinion.  I enjoy this type of mental stimulation and I get bored without it.   I haven’t been able to find this type of communication with anyone else and I miss it.  In a way, I feel lost without it and I wonder if I’ll ever find someone that shares the same motivation to learn and share knowledge the same way he did.

All of these thoughts made me depressed but I still had an overall sense that I was okay.  The Seroquel my psychiatrist prescribed has started to take its effect along with the Lexapro I’ve been taking.  I noticed that I’m much calmer and not so manic lately.  My moods feel as though they are stabilizing now and not swinging so wildly like they were.  I know I’m sad but I still have underlying feelings of happiness and the feeling that everything will be okay.  It’s strange how medication can alter our neurochemistry and make us feel this way.

I’ve also noticed that my introversion is becoming stronger now that my disposition is mellowing out.  I find more and more that I don’t need, or want, to talk to anyone.  I sit at work content to do my job while interacting with as few people as possible.  In the evenings, I go home and make my dinner then read while being satisfied to live in my own bubble.  The word truly is “contentment”.  I am not starving for outside communication, or the need to interact with anyone else.  I am enjoying being alone, knowing the world is just outside going on without me and knowing that I could step into it at any time I choose.  I equate this to sitting at a sidewalk café watching the people walk on by, knowing I could join in at any time, but I’m simply happy here sipping my coffee alone and reading a book.  I’m good with letting the world continue to spin without my interaction.

Weekend recap:

This weekend was the 12-hour race at Sebring International Raceway.  This is where Mickey wanted to have his ashes be laid to rest.  I got there and immediately got lost.  Brian paid for a parking pass but I decided to use the free parking outside the track.  He found his way back to turn 10 while I had to walk the entire raceway which is a daunting task to place to navigate to begin with and was leaving me anxious.  Halfway there, I realized I had a small blister forming on the side of my foot that made it difficult to walk which left me even more frustrated than I already was at the moment. 

To get to the infield where Brian had parked, I had to cross over a car bridge with no foot traffic allowed.  The mean police officer yelled at me as I was trying to walk up and ask him how to get across.  He roughly turned me around and told me to wait by the tree and hitch a ride over the bridge.  As I walked up to this tree, I felt tears forming because the anxiety was building and I knew I couldn’t have a break down here, alone.

I stood by the tree and watched vehicle after vehicle cross the bridge and considered who I could ask to give me a ride over the bridge.  I finally gathered myself together and ran up to a large SUV that had his window rolled down and asked for a ride.  Before I even got my question out, he told me to get in the back.  I was stunned.  As I explained to him this was my first time at the track and why I was here, he told me that people do this sort of thing all the time and not to worry.  I felt relieved.  He even asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere on the other side but I jumped out at the base of the bridge.  That was definitely a new experience.

I finally found Brian and Lynn and said hi to Mickey inside Brian’s bag.  We watched the race for a while and then decided to go for a walk.  We found ourselves on a nice bluff between turns three and four where we sat and watched the race for a while longer.  Brian scooted down to the base of the bluff, punctured a hole in Mickey’s bag and laid his cremains out in the grass.  No one said a word to us.  We sat back on the bluff again and watched people walk around his ashes and the race in front of us for a while before deciding to get up and walk around again.

When we found our way back to turn one, and the main strip, I decided it was time for me to go.  My foot was sore and I was tired.  I made my way back to my car and drove away from the track leaving Mickey behind.  I cried most of the way northbound on Hwy 27 out of Sebring.  I kept thinking that he was being left behind and alone.  It was a terrible feeling to have and I couldn’t stop the tears.

I spent the next day with a friend.  We went to the Improv to see Christopher Titus perform.  I had a heavy heart, but the comedy was good.

Weekend Recap

I sat here thinking about what I did this past weekend and for the life of me I couldn't remember.  This is what happens when a person has ADD; we can't remember specific details as easily as the next person.  Our memory recall barely exists, if at all.  It's frustrating.  Tell me your name and I won't remember which is not all that uncommon, but also tell me details about your life or experiences and I won't remember those either.  Your face?  I won't remember that either.  Details are simply not absorbed into memory like most people's; however, give me a number and I'll remember it for life.

So what did I do this weekend?  I went ice skating again.  I was feeling confident.  I had been ice skating one other time since I wrote the earlier piece and I did okay.  A friend of mine had given me a bit of advice to help me skate and it worked.  I was able to skate and move away from the wall fairly easily.  Unfortunately, I still bobble quite a bit and I did fall once which was hilarious.  When I went down, I slid on the ice for a good 3-4 feet before stopping on my cushiony ass.  I laughed when I got back up.

This time the ice skating was not so fun.  For some reason I couldn't make it more than one lap before the arches in my feet started hurting.  I'm hoping that next time a gel insert will help the pain.  I mostly watched Ami skate and all the little kids.  I still had a great time so it was worth it.  We live and learn, right?

After skating, Ami and I did some shopping and enjoyed the day.  We didn't have any real plans and just mosey'd around all day.  I enjoy these kind of days with Ami.  Making plans for every hour of the day is stressful.  When we have days like this, we figure out where to go as the idea pops in our head.  It's great and it's good for the soul to not be stressed.

Backing up to the previous day, I bought a corset and Saturday a friend help me fit it on my body.  Wow, did this thing ever feel good.  Yes, it was tight but it made me sit up right and sucked in my waist line.  I felt and looked sexy.  I strutted around with my jeans and corset all evening feeling beautiful.  

The only problem is that for a full-figured woman, I have small breasts.  My cup size is only a B.  This makes it difficult to fit me for tops because most full-figured women have C cups or much larger.  The corset was no different.  In the cup area it pulled away from my body and left space so that it wasn't pushing up my breasts like a normal corset.  I still had room for more boobs.  I wish I was more proportional.

Back To Gym Class

In my quest to get healthy I decided to try out a new gym and take a Body Pump class last night.  I’ve done Body Pump classes in the past, and I really loved them.  I’m not fit and flexible enough to do every single workout but I do give it my all.  I purchased a Groupon voucher for 10 fitness glasses to Gold’s gym.  I figured this would be a great way to get started.

If you’ve never done a Body Pump class, it is essentially an aerobics class geared around the use of barbells and weights.  During the class, the participant will go through approximately 70-100 repetitions per body part.  It is intense to say the least.

I met my friend Brian at the gym after signing up.  We got all of our class items together and moved to the front, near the instructor.  My upper body is pretty strong, but my lower body needs work; mainly because of my feet.  I have plantar fasciitis in both feet which causes a lot of pain.  As we did squat and lunges, the downward pressure created intense discomfort in my arches and I had to stop to shake out my feet often.  I didn’t let that deter me and I kept going.

We eventually moved to the ground and worked out our chests with the bar bell.  This is always complicated because now I’m unable to see the instructor and follow her movement.  I found myself doing several single repetitions moving the barbell up in down.  Thank goodness no one else could see me.

Now back up to do back.  I LOVE working my back muscles.  Most people might find this to be awkward but I enjoy it.  I love the pinching of the muscles in my back and the growing strength.  My only problem is the constant downward pressure on my arches again so I couldn’t keep up completely.

At some point we get to more floor routines.  This includes push-ups and dips (using the step bench).  I cannot do push-ups without being on my knees and no way can I do dips.  I’m just too large at the moment and not only do I not have the muscle but also my size prevents me from being able to complete the movement.  I’m sure if I actually try it, it wouldn’t be so bad but I my fear of being a failure crawled into my head and I didn’t even try.  The instructor of course called me out - in front of everyone.  Can we say embarrassed?

I tried a modified version but that just wasn’t working for me at all.  Plus my step bench and mat were wobbling around which made me wonder, did I put it together correctly?  I wasn’t going to stop to try to check it and show the rest of the class that I didn’t know what I was doing.  I’m not going to be THAT girl.  No way.  Again, this is my self-consciousness coming through and my low self-esteem.

We finally finished the workout.  I felt great.  My muscles were sore, but no pain-no gain right?  I knew I was going to wake up and be stiff before I even left the gym.  As soon as I sat down in my car, the sweat on my warm back jolted me forward.  I laughed at myself.

Brian and I went for dinner.  I had grilled salmon with broccoli and asparagus.  This was a good ending to a stressful day at work.

This morning, like I predicted, my muscles are stiff and sore.  I feel weak and I would love to crawl back into bed all day.  Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.

Communication and Random Thoughts

While I enjoy daylight savings time, I hate the time change.  I’m sure it messes me up just as much as the rest of you.  This week I haven’t wanted to get out of bed and I’ve been late for work every day.  Luckily my job doesn’t have a formal attendance policy and I can come and go as I need as long as I am at work roughly between 7am and 4pm.  It’s nice to have this casual atmosphere and helps make me a more productive employee to not have a boss breathing down my neck.

Lately I’ve been trying to be sure I take a more formal approach with my language and etiquette when speaking to Dominants as it worries me when I appear disrespectful.  Some of the conversations I have had recently have sparked my desire to be a better submissive and reminded me of what type of relationship I wish to have with a Dominant.  I have a tendency to lose formality with a Dominant-type as I get to know him and it bothers me.  I get comfortable, even with friendship, and I forget my submissive role.

Moving on to more thoughts…

Some of you may wonder, why D/s?  I need structure in my life.  I do not handle ambiguity well.  If the situation is not clearly black and white, I struggle and it weighs me down emotionally.  In a D/s relationship, or at least the type I am looking for, there are clear cut rules and protocols to follow.  This helps me stay focused on the relationship and communicate better with my Dominant.  It’s not all about the kink.  Yes, I love the kinky part of the BDSM but I separate that in my head and compartmentalize it.  My thoughts are the relationship isn’t all about sex or SM, and sex/SM doesn’t make the relationship.

I had the vanilla relationship and there was no clear cut role between the two of us.  This caused communication to break down and the relationship to follow.  There cannot be uncertainty as this creates a rift between the individuals.  I am a very communicative person.  I am not shy with my feelings, thoughts, or desires.  Some men, and even women, in the vanilla world are incapable of properly communicating or understanding why it is so important.  These types of people have a challenging time with comprehending my need to communicate and therefore it doesn’t work.

Communication is a two-way street.  I want to be able to exchange my thoughts and desires with my Dominant at an intellectual level and I want him to communicate right back with me.  Yes, I know men are from Mars and women are from Venus.  We have two completely different communication styles.  However, in this lifestyle emphasis is placed on communication to make healthy, long lasting relationships.  In the vanilla world, it’s almost as if communication is a secondary attribute and not as important for success.  Why is this?

Chivalry

This morning I read a blog that had a profound impact on me.  It discussed Chivalry and that many men, and women alike, find that chivalry is out of style.  Please take a moment and read it yourself:

http://themattwalshblog.com/2014/01/13/chivalry-is-out-of-style/

The article made a few good points about chivalry.  First, what is chivalry?  Well, chivalry provides a sort of code of conduct for gentlemanly behavior.  It’s a male code of conduct of sorts.  Of course this is no longer the medieval times and chivalry has had to evolve, but it still has an influence and basic tenants for male behavior toward women.

Today, chivalry is about certain ethical standards that foster the development of manhood which include truth, loyalty, courteousness to others, helping women, defenders of the weak, and supporters of justice.  It’s not just about pleasantries and being polite.  Chivalry is about knowing the man is stronger and understanding his strength and supporting role in society.

Authors Note:  I’m writing this article from the female perspective and not necessarily as a weak person that needs defended.

Just like the author wrote, chivalry is not about the subjugation of women or being dominant.  To subjugate women and be dominant just because you are physically able to do so is domineering, and that is not being honorable.  As much as every feminist wants to argue, women are not equal with men.  We are physically the weaker sex and mothers to the next generation. We, as women, are meant to be meek.  We should be humble, righteous, and patient.  It doesn’t necessarily mean be submissive to men, but we should respect the differences between our genders. 

Men should be using their strength to honor and protect women.  Being chivalrous shows women that they are not going to be hurt, but rather protected.  Both sides show humility and service to each other.  It’s a full circle between men and women being in service to one another.  Women service men in supportive roles and men service woman as their protectors and guardians in return.

These beliefs are taken for granted and lost in our generation.  Apathy has taken hold and men have become lazy and self-centered.  It’s no wonder this occurred since the feministic movement of our previous generations taught men that we should be treated as equals.  Both sides of the spectrum, men and women, have forgotten the values of chivalry and we have done a very poor job of passing down this belief system.  Parents no longer teach their boys what it means to be chivalrous and girls are taught to be equals among men.  We have fallen out of practice to be decent to one another and society is suffering

Ladies, when a man holds a door open for you or offers to carry your bags, he’s most likely trying to be humble and caring and showing valor.  He’s not always out to get into your skirt.  Men, practice chivalry whenever you can and be truthful, honorable participants in society.  Don’t be douchebags, but that also goes for women too.  It’s not that hard.  Feminism had an important role in the development of our society but it is now time to accept that we have taken it a little too far.  

Medication and Tattoos

Last Friday I saw my psychiatrist and told him that I would not be continuing Latuda.  The first issue is the side effects and the second is the cost.  With my insurance, the cost of this medication is still $150 for every three months.  I can only imagine what the prescription would cost without insurance or with an insurance provider that is not as good as my own.

How do the drug manufacturers get away with charging so much in the United States?  A person can easily cross over the Canadian border, or to many other countries, and purchase the same drugs for fractions less than what we pay in the US.  It makes me wonder if the US is subsidizing the cost of the drug for other countries.

Doc prescribed me Seraquel this time.  I started on 25mg at bedtime for a few days and then will increase to 50mg when I’m comfortable.  The first night I took the medication it knocked me out.  I didn’t want to wake up the next morning at all.  Interesting side effect for sure.  I like it.

I noticed the past few days the akathisia symptoms are gone and I’m not as restless as I was nor as manic.  I feel pretty good and happy so far.

Last week I decided that I’m getting a tattoo.  I’ve been thinking about a tattoo for a while and had it planned out but never actually got it because I just wasn’t sure it’s what I wanted.  I know better than to ink myself, especially the first time, and decide later that I don’t like the tattoo so I waited until I found something that I fell in love with.  Finally, I did. 

I decided to get a Gemini symbol on the top of my foot with the Star of David.  These two symbols are important to me as I am very much a Gemini and my faith is what guides me in my everyday life.  Sure, inking my body with a tattoo is a violation of Leviticus but my ears are already pierced.  I also believe that the commandment to not mark thy body was created during a time when Jews were trying to set themselves apart from Paganism.  Since Pagans often marked their bodies with tattoos and piercings, our Jewish Fathers used this as a way to separate the two cultures.  This philosophy is no longer needed in today’s day and age.

So as I started looking for designs, I then realized that if I get one why not get two?  So that’s what I did.  I not only got the Gemini and Star of David on my foot but I also got the Chai on the inside of my wrist.

I like solid, dark tattoos.  To me, it looks classy.  Since I have such a light skin tone, the artist used a dark purple.  As he tattooed my foot it hurt, especially over the boney area.  I wanted to cringe and scream out in pain but I knew I couldn’t move my foot.  The wrist wasn’t so bad.  It felt like I was getting stabbed several times with an IV needle.

All in all I’m glad I got them.

Bipolar Medication

It’s been a few weeks and I’m still manic.  My therapist really doesn’t know what to do with me now.  My psychiatrist started me on Latuda.  At first it was just 20mg for a few days, then 40mg for two weeks.  At the end of the two weeks, I increased my dosage to 80mg as instructed.  This caused severe problems that took me a few days to recognize.

The Saturday I increased my dosage, I had planned a trip to Tomoka Brewery with the girls.  A friend is visiting from North Carolina and she was joining us as well.  I started feeling nauseous and uneasy for some strange reason so I decided to drive myself.  The entire drive I felt restless and remained uneasy.  I couldn’t focus and I couldn’t sit still.  For a 90 minute drive, this was bad news.

The entire drive I noticed myself looking at the time every five minutes.  I felt like time had slowed down and I couldn’t make it move quickly enough.  Normally, I don’t mind long drives by myself.  I’ll put on my favorite music and enjoy the trip.  This time, I needed to desperately get out of the car.

I ended up stopping halfway to the brewery at a gas station in the middle of nowhere.  There were about ten people at the station and I probably could have taken all of their teeth and made two full sets.  I still think I heard banjos in the background too.  As I got a bottle of water and a quick snack, I made sure to not look any of these creatures in the eye for fear someone may think I have a purdy mouth.

I hit the road as quickly as I had stopped and started drinking the water.  This didn’t help calm the restlessness at all.  By the time I got to the brewery it was so much worse.  I felt like I wanted to cut my skin off and step outside of my body.  Now the agitation and need to just keep moving settled in.  I couldn’t make these feelings stop and I thought it was the mania.  At this point, I hadn’t realized that this was related to the new medication.

The next day a friend and I went to the Renaissance Festival in Tampa.  We stopped for breakfast before driving out and during I still felt restless.  Luckily for me my companion for the day tends to have a polarizing effect on me and stabilizes my mood.  It’s his energy that works in my favor.

At the Festival we had a good time looking at all the vendors.  One of which was the corset vendor.  I stopped to try on a corset and absolutely loved it!  I got cinched up in a beautiful corset that fit me perfectly.  Unfortunately, they wanted $180 for theirs and I’m not willing to pay that price.  I can find one very similar online for half that price.  As much as I fell in love with the corset and felt I looked damn hot in it, I let it go.

The morning was hot and steamy so we left early.  I spent some time with my friend and we eventually made our way to Gators Dockside for an early dinner.  After, I went home.  Thankfully the restlessness was there but not too bad throughout the day.  I still think my companion was the reason for all this.  I find it amazing how the energy one person puts off can affect another person so easily, especially when the person being affected is emotionally empathic to others in the near vicinity.

After I got home I started thinking more about the medication but couldn’t really find anything that would cause this new, strange feeling.  I again took another 80mg tablet and went to bed.  Monday morning I woke and went to work as normal.  I made my cup of coffee (I keep a Keurig at my desk) and drank it as normal.  Within just a few minutes of the caffeine hitting my blood stream I was wired and way more agitated than normal.  I felt like my insides were trying to jump out of body and I couldn’t get comfortable at all.

I started doing a little more research into Latuda and found this strange medical term pop up a few times – akathisia.  I read it in the prescription documentation but I figured it was some disease.  Once I started reading up on this medical term, I realized it is exactly what I’m feeling – inner restlessness.  Bingo!  I immediately called my psychiatrists office and was told to go back down to 40mg.  It’s now been a few days since and the akathisia has subsided for the most part but it is still present.  Tonight, I am not taking this medication.  When I speak to my psychiatrist next he will be giving me a whole new prescription because I am NOT taking Latuda again.  It was way too expensive and way too many side effects.

Now that has me thinking, do I really need bipolar meds?  Of course my therapist and psychiatrist will say yes, but I’ve been without medication for years.  I should be able to get through this without going back on medications again, right?  I hate being used as a science experiment.  There isn’t one particular drug that works for bipolar disorder and I’m constantly playing with the drugs I’m ingesting. 

I feel like a lab rat and I want to stop.  I know it’s best for me but to what end do I have to do this?  So we’ll find the right drug cocktail that will work for a while but when my brain chemistry changes the drugs will need to be modified all over again.  It’s frustrating.

Top it off, the medications end up making me feel numb.  I will eventually miss the swing of the highs since I won’t feel them anymore.  I won’t miss the depression but that’s what the medication is for, to even me out.  This is also another reason why many patients wind up off their medication because they start to feel numb. The highs are great and we start to miss that rush but once we realize it’s the medication putting the brakes on the roller coaster we stop the meds.  That’s why I stopped the medication the first time and opted for CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy, pervs!).  I learned my triggers and how to compensate for them for so long.  It’s just recently that I’ve needed a little extra help.

Why does my brain chemistry have to be so far off?  Why can’t I be normal?  No wait, I like being abnormal.  Normal is scary.  Normal is for the people who are bland.  I like having a little spice to my life.  I wake up wondering, is today going to be moody and depressed or is today going to be manic and crazy?  Not really each day but you get the point.

Strange Week

Warning:  Parts are NSFW

Last week was a really strange week for me.  Saturday night I went to the local BDSM dungeon and met a friend there.  I was really interested in some play time with him and hoping I could get to know his Dominant style.  I love a good sadist that can bring me to the edge of my limits physically and mentally, but hold me back before falling off the edge.  I prefer physical pain through impact play for the most part but the friend I was meeting enjoys sensory play. 

The session turned out okay.  I wasn’t into it as much as I wanted to be.  Unfortunately, the dungeon was a little crowded and with so much going on around me I couldn’t keep connected due to my ADD.  I kept shifting my focus all over the place and I couldn’t relax.  This is why I typically enjoy pain over sensation play.  The pain forces me to focus because I have to deal with the resulting discomfort which usually allows me to float away into subspace.

After the play session I got in some cuddle time with him which was fantastic.  I absolutely enjoyed sitting in his arms, feeling warm and safe, while everyone went about their business around us.  I love watching the scenes in the dungeon from afar this way.  It’s relaxing and stimulating all at the same time.

Sunday morning I had plans to go to Disney with my roommate and girlfriend.  My roommate’s friends were in town from up north and planned a day at Disney.  I heard my roommate leave but she never bothered to wake me up.  I was a little taken aback but it is what it is.  This gave me the chance to get up and get ready for the day at my own pace.

I got out of bed, made myself a healthy breakfast and got dressed for the day.  Afterwards, I drove down to Hollywood Studios and truly enjoyed the morning drive and the beautiful day.  I felt relaxed and in my own space, not even a crowd of people surrounding me could make me feel anxious today.  I was looking forward to meandering through the park in my own little headspace for the day.

When I finally met up with roomie and her friends, I realized quickly that I was going to be baggage that wasn’t necessary considering they had all gotten their fast passes for the day and planned out their adventures.  Since I got there late, I could not sync my fast pass options with theirs and therefore could not ride with them.  Since I didn’t want to feel out of place, I decided to venture out for the day on my own so I called my friend from last night and asked him to join me (he works for Disney and can get in anytime).

While he was on his way, I stopped and ate a caramel peanut apple.  Oh my goodness it was delicious.  I so love caramel apples.  It also felt great to sit and eat my apple with no agenda for the day, no specific place to be, and no cares at all.  This is truly becoming a great day.

My friend shows up and we hit Star Tours, the Star Wars ride.  I LOVE LOVE LOVE Star Wars!  I don’t like the ride.  It was a 3-D simulator ride and I got sick.  I knew I would but I wanted to try it again.  Oh well.

As we left the ride, I found this incredibly cute Jedi outfit for my stuffie bear.  My friend bought it with his discount.  I’ve been sleeping with it every night since bringing the outfit home.  At first, I worried it would fit but as you can see below it fits great!

We walked and talked and eventually made our way to Magic Kingdom.  We checked out the Haunted Mansion first but the wait time was extraordinarily long and so not worth it.  I love the Hall of Presidents so we went there instead.  I cry every time I’m so sappy and patriotic.  Especially toward the end when they show the military heroes.

We kept walking and talking through the park afterwards.  He showed me all the changes that have been made since the last time I have been to the park.  It is incredible what the Imagineers have done with Fantasyland!  From there, we hopped on Tomorrowland’s Transit Authority People Mover.  It’s normally a nice, slow ride around Tomorrowland.  Not this time.

Shortly after we got on the ride stopped while we were on a bridge looking down at the Tomorrowland Speedway.  Some loud noise kept buzzing over our heads on the intercom but we didn’t think anything of it.  We figured someone needed assistance with getting on or off the ride but then it started taking quite a while to get moving again.  After about 15 minutes of waiting, a group of Tomorrowland employees make their way down the tracks to our tram and ask us to exit.  This had me cracking up.  We were being evacuated from the ride because our tram, and only our tram, was dysfunctional.  Everyone else’s was fine.

We walked across the bridge and back down a maintenance stairwell through some guy’s office.  As we left, they gave us fast passes to use for certain rides.  Between the two of us, we picked up four of them.  We used these to ride The Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean.  After we decided we were tired and left the park to meet at Chevy’s for a Tex-Mex dinner.  From there, the day ended and not a moment too soon as my feet and lower back were feeling the day.  It was a great day though and I loved every second.

Now Monday is where things get a little weird.  I was messaged by a man on OKCupid a few days before where I have a dating profile setup.  He is only 27 years old which is much younger than me but he was kind of cute so I figured I’d give him a chance.  He rarely gets a few days off and he really wanted to meet so I agreed to go to his place for him to cook dinner.

I know what you’re thinking; I should meet in public first.  Yes, I know this but I’m not really afraid either and I wanted to see what he’s all about.  A concern of mine is that he feels everyone is beneath him and has little compassion for other people.  I, on the other hand, have an extraordinary amount of compassion for other people and feel we are all equals.  However, I wanted to give him a chance since I figured maybe this is just his initial persona and he might not actually be so bad.  Boy was I wrong.

I get to his place and instantly I knew there was trouble with this one.  He’s 5’3” while I am 5’6”.  As soon as I walk in the door, I am looking down on him and I’m only wearing sneakers.  I like men to be taller than me.  I want to be able to rest my head against his chest or snuggle my face into his neck as we hug.  I could almost rest my cheek on the top of his head when we hugged.

As we sat down to talk, he started tickling me.  I’m not cool with this until I get to know you.  Because he fights MMA, he was much stronger than me and was able to pin me down.  That’s strike two (strike one was the height).  Then as we started talking, it was clear that his “everyone is beneath me” attitude is not just a first impression but who he really is.  When I asked about if he believes in G-d, he goes off on me about being an atheist.  Normally I can handle this but when I asked about what happens to him when he dies, he got even more animated and said that nothing happens to us and he wish he were there now.

At that moment I couldn’t take anymore.  That was strike three.  I got up and walked out.  As I approached the door he asked, “So I guess this is over?”  My only response was, “What does the door tell you?”  That’s when I slammed the door and left.

I messaged my friend Scott.  I could really use a sexual release right about now and, well, Scott and I have this benefit arrangement that works for us.  He meets me at World of Beer.  We each drink two beers and head back to my place.  Oh how I love that Scott is a Dominant.  I strip naked for him on command in the bathroom and then take his clothes off of him too. 

We step into the shower and he starts soaping me up.  I bend over, letting the water and soapy bubbles run down my back when he starts sliding his cock into my ass.  The pain mixed with the pleasure was sending incredible singles to my brain and I couldn’t focus.  He did this a couple times while I was bent over and that’s when I started feeling heat rising across the back of my neck and a prickly feeling as if I was going to be sick.

I don’t remember much after that because the next thing I was conscious of was him standing over me tapping my face.  Somehow I found my way to the base of the tub and I was laying there looking up at him.  What happened?

He helped me to stand and explained I passed out on him.  I’m not sure how that happened or why.  I put my arms around him and he held me but that’s all I remember because I was again in the base of the tub looking up at him saying my name several times.  I must have passed out a second time.

Fearing this was going to happen again, I shut off the water and he helped me get out.  Unknowing what caused me to suddenly lose consciousness I ran to my kitchen and grabbed a buddy fruit.  

I started feeling better after getting out of the shower and my mind started working again but I’m still a little freaked out about it.  I have never lost consciousness like that with any warning.  I’m also not a small woman which meant that Scott caught me in the shower.  My embarrassment level was off the chart.  Scott was so kind.  He tried to reassure me that I'm not as heavy as I think I am but part of me knows that I am.

I sat down with him on the bed and feeling myself reach normalcy again we continued on with our evening.  I had an incredible time and he left me a few marks on my ass to remind me of our night for several days.  At the end, he stayed the night with me which felt great too.  It was nice to be able to snuggle up to a warm body rather than a furry stuffie bear.

I still don’t know what made me pass out.  My thoughts are either hypoglycemic shock since I drank two beers with no dinner or possibly alcohol plus blood pressure medicine plus heat from the shower caused my blood pressure to plummet.  Either way, I’m fine now and I’ve had no further episodes.  I’m not going to worry about it.

Being Manic

Most people don’t understand what it is like to live with a mood cycling disorder so let me give you a little taste of what the roller coaster we suffer from on a daily basis.  For months I’ve been depressed with feelings of isolation, grief, loneliness and complete despair.  It’s caused me to push away the people that love me the most and withdraw from the world around me.  It makes me see a delusional reality filled with distrust, anger and cynicism.

Recently the fear of losing an important relationship caused me to snap out of this depression streak.  Overnight I went from a moody, depressed, and miserable existence to one filled with happiness, hopefulness and the feeling of being giddy all the time.  It was like a light switch that was flipped in my brain.

My thoughts come rapidly like a freight train that is careening off course, or better multiple freight trains.  I have a tremendous amount of energy that I cannot contain.  My speech is rapid and my hands flail all over the place as I talk.  I don’t quite have grandiose thoughts but they are up there.  I act on impulse rather than thinking through my decisions in an analytical fashion and I don’t worry about the repercussions.  In other words, I feel like I am flying and I don’t want to come down.

As for chemically what is happening in my brain, I have an excess of serotonin and norepinephrine running free.  These two hormones are what creates the manic state in a person that has bipolar disorder.  The serotonin is necessary but there are not enough receptacles to attract the serotonin and therefore it produces the elated feelings.  This also increases the norepinephrine which results in the erratic behavior that I experienced along with the increased heart rate and blood pressure.

When a bipolar patient is experiencing the depressed side of the spectrum, the serotonin levels are very low and there are too many receptacles waiting for the brain to release more of this hormone.  The reduction of serotonin causes the negative feelings, the lack of enthusiasm and dreads the goes along with depression. 

While it is easy to discuss the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain, the resulting emotions are much more difficult to describe.  When I am manic like I am today I feel like I want to bounce off the walls.  I laugh easily and there is not enough stimulation in the world to keep my attention.  I want to run and jump and play and be happy.  I don’t want to think about anything that can ruin this high nor do I want to control it.  I just want to be free.

As I meander through this stage I am very much aware of what is happening to me.  It’s like I am a bystander watching my life careen out of control as if I’m having an out of body experience.  I’m watching myself from above with no care to stop myself.  This part of me that is floating above me just watches and waits for that next moment that is going to bring me crashing back to earth.  Eventually it will happen.  Something will hit me and reverse the chemical reaction in my brain to make me depressed again.  It’s just a matter of time.  So until then, I will enjoy this ride for all it’s worth.

Hypomania

I am still in a hypomanic state today.  It’s not as bad as yesterday, but it is still mania.  The mania I experienced yesterday was intense.  As I sat at my desk working I couldn’t focus all day on one task; my mind kept wandering all over the place like a runaway freight train.  I was giddy and child-like most of the day and I couldn’t keep from bouncing all over the place.  I would get up frequently to talk to a co-worker that joined me for the day and he recognized my giddiness too.  My speech was as rapid as my thoughts as we talked and he just laughed.

While being in this hypomanic state, the emotions I have had over losing my friendship is not quite as bad as it has been.  I don’t feel the need to cry and isolate myself at the moment. I’m more forward and sure of myself today.  It’s a good place to be but still not exactly healthy.  My mind is still circling around all the recent events and playing “armchair quarterback” with the lost friendship.  I have to stop myself almost every hour from reaching out to this person over and over again.  I know he needs his space and time but I want his attention – I want him to hear me out so desperately and understand where I was coming from.

I feel like I am at the peak of a roller coaster, enjoying the thrill and exhilaration of the unknown.  I’m going to make the best of my circumstances and enjoy where I am today.  I will not make rash decisions as this could be detrimental for me while I am in this state.

Oh speed, how I love you!

I have to work today.  It’s not a bad thing.  Sunday’s are days I sit at the office alone, drinking my craft beer (yes, I sometimes drink at work in the afternoon but I don’t get drunk - the company I work for provides us beer on occasion), waiting for any number of world-wide clients to tell me their system is down.  Usually Sundays are very slow days and I only have to do this once every ten weeks.  Not a big deal.  Craft beer and I have an agreement to help each other out.

These past few days I’ve been really down so when I get in my car this morning and The Who start to play Baba O’Riley my heart started pumping with the beat of the drums and my mood instantly changed.  As I pulled onto the interstate I felt my car accelerate up on the ramp at the same rate the music began increasing tempo.  My hands were on the steering wheel at 10 and 2; my eyes were directly on the road ahead thanking fate that the Interstate was fairly clear this morning.

My car easily glides up to 90mph as I race up the interstate.  I barely notice the speed of my car as it continues to accelerate and I sink into my chair focusing on the change in my soul.  I feel the sound of the music in my ears washing away the emptiness and replacing it with peace and serenity.  My mind quiets as the tires on the ground are begging to be pushed further and faster.

As I reach 95 (or maybe even 100mph) I realize I need to slow down.  This is not the Autobahn and I could get a ticket.  I roll back the speedometer to 80mph and continue to float up the interstate.  In this moment I am grateful for a sporty car that can take away my troubles and replace it with quiet exhilaration. 

Unfortunately, the journey ends far too soon as I exit the highway a few miles later.  I want this feeling to continue, I want the speed to engulf me and take me to places where my soul can soar free.  I’m not quiet saddened that the drive is over though since this high that replaced the depression will stay with me for some time.  However, the crash may be detrimental later.

Love and Grief

Often there are moments just after my mind wakes but my body hasn’t fully begun to function that I lay in bed and ponder such things as why am I here and why am I the way I am.  These few moments in the morning give me a time to be introspective and contemplate the world around me.  I also take these few moments and think on more spiritual thoughts as well.  Sometimes these thoughts make me happy; more often than not these thoughts make me sad and emotional.

As I consider recent events in my life I have to ask myself why people gravitate toward one another.  What is the meaning of love and why do we look for it in every corner and every person?  Recently I’ve been re-examining the idea of love and relationships and what I need from another person.  It seems that no matter what happens, every relationship is going to end and hurt at some point.  Why do we continue to do this to ourselves?  Why do we inflict so much pain on each other?  Are we all serial masochists and don’t realize it?

Every relationship will eventually end.  That’s what my therapist taught me.  As harsh as it is, those were his exact words.  I was shocked and stunned by his frankness on the subject.  How can he say these things to me when I’m grieving the loss of so many people and relationships?  I had to stop and consider this theory, and as analytical as I am, I realize he’s right.  Every relationship we have with someone will end.  Whether it is by death of one person or because one person no longer wanted to be in the relationship, it will end.

It saddens me to realize how true these words are, especially for me.  Sometimes I think the loss that I’ve experienced is insurmountable and I cannot function.  I wonder how it is that I go on living my life day to day with this terrible feeling.  The grief that I carry around with me engulfs me on a daily basis.  It’s become my shelter, my shield, and my protector.  It keeps me from forming long-lasting bonds with people, and when I do push aside grief to let someone into my life, I end up ruining it in some way.  I don’t realize this is what I am doing until it is too late and the damage is done.  It just happens.

This morning grief and I had a conversation.  He reminded me that I am alone and that he will always be with me to share in my troubles and help me find the dark places in my soul.  I took comfort in knowing that grief will not leave me as he will continue to be there for me to help me detach when I attempt to let another person love me.  He will be there like a black knight to protect me from further injury to my soul and remind me that this relationship will destroy itself like all others and not to get attached.

I finally got out of bed and made my way into the kitchen.  I need that morning pleasure of coffee to comfort my soul.  I stand in the kitchen and water Shyla, my eastern lily that was given to me when my dog Shyla passed.  She’s been growing so big lately that I had to repot her into a bigger pot.  I take a few moments to think back to a happier time when I felt like I could move forward; a time I wasn’t so paralyzed.  I let the moment pass in fear the sadness will be overwhelming.  I curl up in bed with my morning yumminess and I grab for my pills, these pills that keep my heart rhythm from becoming out of whack, and I realize I’m missing one.  How long has it been since I’ve had my anti-depressant? 

As I sit in the dark sipping my coffee that is quickly turning cold, I think about why it is I take the anti-depressant.  Am I fooled as much as every other American in the belief that I can take a magic pill and it will suddenly make me happy again?  Maybe I should just stop taking it and let the depression engulf me.  It is after all where I find I am most comfortable.  My depression has a way of keeping people at arm’s length and maybe that is for the better.  It keeps me isolated and anti-social so that I don’t have to talk to people, nor do I want to talk to others.

My coffee is cold.  The air is cold.  My room is dark.  The world is silent.  My bed is comfortable.  I’ll just stay here today and let the world go on without me.

Ruined Friendship

One of the problems with having a mood cycling disorder is that there are times that I can cycle without any warning and it will be oblivious to me.  I usually don’t know what is happening until it is too late.  Then I have to go back and fix my mistakes once I  become self-aware again.

Unfortunately, I cycled hard today and I ruined a friendship that I fear I will never get back; a friendship that I have relied on to be there for me when I’ve needed him the most.  I cycled into a hypomanic phase, and while in this phase if I am not aware it is happening, a tiny problem the size of a grain of sand could send me over the cliff.  That is exactly what happened.  I became angry and obsessive over a simple request.  I couldn’t get out of my own head to realize what I was doing and it became a slippery slope.  When all was said and done, I lost one of my dearest friends.

I hate what I did.  I can’t take it back.  I so desperately want to take it back but it’s done.  I can never be forgiven, not only by him but by myself as well.  I was hateful and vengeful and was hurt so I wanted to hurt him back.  I succeeded. 

The problem with people that have a mood cycling disorder is that not everything our brains tell us is true.  It might feel like the truth, but it’s not.  I can read a statement and take it at face value but then let my brain analyze it for several minutes and the meaning of that statement has completely evolved.  My brain has transitioned something that means nothing into so much more that I need to protect myself from.  I can’t just take a step back and let it be what it is.  I have to over analyze everything.

Fear also becomes my brain’s self-defense mechanism.  Fear and anxiety subconsciously kick in to protect me which causes me to be paralyzed and sometimes make irrational decisions.  I can’t make a decision on anything that feels threatening or make changes that could potentially create huge conflict.  There is already too much change constantly happening within my brain that I can’t move forward or risk implosion.

What it basically comes down to is that there is a lot of muck in my brain that I have to deal with on a moment by moment basis; no, make that second by second.  I constantly have to consider what state of mind I am in and where I am in the cycle charts.  When I forget to be self-aware, problems like this arise.  When I get overwhelmed by changes and other factors in day-to-day life I can lose touch with where I am in the spectrum and lose touch with reality. 

I hope that I can salvage this friendship but I know it will never be the same.  I didn’t act with integrity and there is no excuse for my actions.  If I could jump in a Tardis and go back in time to stop myself from making this mistake I would.  Honestly, I’d go back several months and change my actions.  We would be on stronger footing today if I did.  Instead, I will go off to my corner and cry for a lost friendship.

Being Alone

The other day my childhood friend’s mom passed away suddenly.  She’s 1,000 miles away and I cannot be there for her.  She’s grieving and going through this very difficult time and all I want to do is to take her pain away.  But who’s going to take my pain away?

I know what grieving is like.  I’ve lost so many friends and family members in recent years I feel isolated even though I am surrounded by friends.  Recently I’ve lost a co-worker, Gerry, due to the flu virus and in November I lost one of my closest friends, Mickey.

Mickey was special to me.  He was older and would always tease me about my younger age, or really anything he could find to tease me about.  I loved him and I would do anything for him.

One day in November I took him to the VA to get a routine colonoscopy.  While waiting we sat and talked about our plans for the holidays.  This year we were going to spend them together.  For Thanksgiving he was going to cook a roast and Christmas he was going to make his homemade Italian gravy (red sauce).  I don’t have close family and I was looking forward to spending the holidays with him.

The procedure went well and we had dinner after.  I teased him about eating “old people’s dinner” at TooJay’s because we were eating at 4pm with the rest of the older people that liked to eat early.  A few days later when I hadn’t heard from him I went to his apartment.  All the doors were locked from the inside.  I knew there was trouble.  I called the police who called the fire department to open the door.  The firefighter broke the chain on the backdoor and the police officer entered.  I tried to follow but I was pushed back – hard – and told to go around front.  The officer came back out and looked at me.  No words needed to be said, I knew what happened.  Mickey was dead.

I broke down into hysterics.  I am so grateful for Christine and Shirley being there with me and tried their best to comfort me but none was to be had.  My friend was gone.  He died alone in bed of natural causes.  Mickey always took care of me so now was the time for me to take care of him.  He had no family and always made sure that myself and our good friend Brian were aware of his wishes.  It was a long night but I eventually got his body removed and taken to the funeral home.  Seeing him in a body bag was devastating to say the least.

It’s been a long road trying to deal with the grief of losing him.  Brian and I emptied his apartment of all his belongings and he’s handling the financials along with the estate.  I made it through the holidays but barely.

I am alone.  Sure, like I mentioned I have friends, a mother, two sisters and a grandfather, but I am alone.  Why?  My mother and sister have borderline personality disorder that makes it difficult to keep them in my life.  I choose to communicate with them as little as possible to protect myself.  It’s gotten to the point that when I speak to my mother on the off occasion I don’t have any familial feelings for her that a daughter should have for her mother.  My full sister lives with my mother and we just do not talk to one another.  It’s better that way because she cycles much worse than I do and gets angry at the drop of a hat.

For my friends, it’s challenging for them to understand the cycles of a person that suffers from bipolar disorder so to protect them I keep them at arms distance.  My half-sister lives in Missouri and has a family of her own.  I know she would be there for me whenever I need to talk but I don’t ever want to be a burden.  Not for her or my friends.  So I choose to isolate myself because it’s easier.

For as much as I isolate myself intentionally, I crave for someone to push through the walls that I put up around myself and make me feel worthy of love and affection.  I’m waiting for that one person that will see me for the person that I am, not be afraid and still want to form an intimate, loving relationship.  Instead, I find myself emotionally isolated, lonely and depressed often because I cannot form intimate relationships with people.

This isolation makes me an introvert and experience strong social anxiety.  So my life is essentially a catch-22.  I don’t want to feel as though I’m not supported by others, but the anxiety makes it harder to meet others, be social and develop friendships.  It’s a challenge that has no right answers because I have a social phobia, but I know the only way to cure this phobia is by finding social support from other people.  It makes me spiral into a deep depression sometimes and makes me feel even more lonely.  It also makes me the shy and anxious person that I am.

To deal with this anxiety, I pull away from others and be alone so that I can reduce stress.  When I do go out to spend time with others, I don’t enjoy myself because I fear social situations and the anxiety that can arise from it.  This anxiety creates negative and “black and white” thinking.  I internalize everything to the point that negative thoughts run wild in my head.

The problem with this thought process is that being alone is exactly the opposite of what I need.  There is no cure for social anxiety but distractions help.  Distractions help me to stop overthinking and attempt to live my life.  This is something I cannot do when I’m alone with my own thoughts.  I am trying as hard as I can to overcome the fear of being social.  I’m pushing myself to get out and join the community even if it causes me to shake in fear.  If you see me out somewhere, don’t hesitate to say hi to me.  I may not start the conversation and I may look like I don’t want to talk, but I will promise you that I crave for someone to say hi and talk to me.  Don’t let me run away.

Introversion, The Dungeon, and Goodbye

A few weeks ago I saw on FetLife that the local Munch was gathering and had a beginner Munch just before the main Munch.  Since I tend to be anti-social and I need to meet more people in the BDSM community, I figured I would attend.  It would be a great way to get to know people, especially since I’m single and would possibly like to date.

The morning arrives and I’m feeling pretty good about the day ahead.  My bathroom has been a disaster so I clean most of the morning before showering and getting ready for the day.  It felt good to clear away the clutter of my bathroom counter and clean everything.  It felt like a new start.

I get to the restaurant and I sit in the parking lot for several minutes.  I’m really nervous.  I’m scared to meet new people.  I wonder if I will fit in; or will I be social and talk; or will I panic?  This is a very difficult moment and I kept seeing myself backing out and going home.  But, I’m here.  I can’t go back now. 

I pull up my big girl panties and walk into the restaurant.  I greet the hostess as I walk in but here’s a quandary:  Do I ask the hostess where the kinky people are meeting or do I ask where the Munch is meeting?  Then I wonder, do they even know what a Munch is?

For those of you that don’t know what a Munch is, it’s a gathering of like-minded people in the BDSM community.  They meet in vanilla locations, wearing vanilla clothing and discuss the everyday topics or topics of the lifestyle.  The Orlando Munch is an organization that is dedicated to bringing quality lifestyle education to the Orlando community as well.

This is my first Munch so I’m really nervous and not quite sure what to expect.  That past few times I’ve been to the local dungeon, The Woodshed, I’ve been greeted by very accepting and wonderful people.  I’ve never had any concerns with the people I’ve met in the lifestyle.

So here I am at the hostess station and rather than ask where the Munch is gathering I ask if there is a group of people meeting today and where are they?  The hostess knew right away and sent me off to the meeting room at the back of the restaurant.  The first person I met was Cardinal_Chris (see FL).  He was a very nice man and greeted me warmly.  I found the nametags and labeled myself and my orientation (submissive looking for a Dominant).  Well, to be honest I first put the wrong label on my nametag as a switch, but I quickly fixed it.

A few other people arrived shortly after me for the beginners meeting.  We talked and they asked questions since they were new to the lifestyle.  I’ve been in the lifestyle for over two years now and although I’m not exactly new, I’m still new at meeting people in the community.

Since I’ve been interested in littles, babygirls, and Daddy Dominants lately I figured this would be a good time to inquire.  A young lady had joined us named Rue.  She explained she had a little and a kitty.  She was so cute and had such a bubbly personality.  I loved her.  I wish I was able to express my personality as easier as she is able to express hers.  Unfortunately, my analytical side doesn’t let me let out my younger self very often as she feels it’s wrong.  I should be a grown-up 24/7.  It’s maddening sometimes.

As time went on, a few more people started showing up for the regular Munch.  The meeting room started filling up but all the beginners stayed at the same table while people filled in around us.  It was great to continue sitting with the same people since I felt comfortable with them.  When I get comfortable I try not to navigate away from it if I can and these people made me feel safe.

After several hours of talking both on the topic of kink and vanilla, I felt tired and needed a break from being social.  I said my goodbyes and hugged everyone.  I don’t normally touch people but I felt a kindred with these people that I don’t always feel.  Throughout the Munch I was kept checking my phone for a message from Paul.  I really wanted to see him later.  Lately he’s become my safe place when I need comfort and after a day of being social I needed him.  He is often unreachable unfortunately.  I don’t know if he does it on purpose or not but I emailed him and texted him but didn’t get a response.  It’s very frustrating since I care about him a lot.

I left and made my way to Brian’s place where I dropped off the milk stout growler I picked up for him at Saltwater Brewery a few weeks ago.  I also went through Mickey’s pots and pans and took what I wanted.  As I was leaving I texted Paul again and finally got a response – “I’m going out tonight”.  That’s all it said.  In my head I keep thinking he’s got a date.  He’s going to see another woman.  My jealousy just keeps sending me to very dark places. 

As much as I want to be, we’re not in a relationship.  We are just friends.  He’s allowed to date if he chooses.  It just really hurts, especially when I’ve told him over and over that I want more from him.  He’s willing to continue be friends and cuddle but nothing more.  In my head this tells me that I’m not good enough.  Something is wrong with me.  I’m not smart enough, skinny enough, submissive enough, something.  I’ve brought it up in the past but he doesn’t tell me what it is.  All he says is he doesn’t know what he wants.  So, am I holding on to something or am I holding onto nothing?

I decide then that I will join the Munch class at the Woodshed.  The class was being held on T.H.I.R.D. which stands for Trust, Honor, Integrity, Respect, and Discipline.  It was a great class.  I rarely think about discipline that I impose on myself; I’ve also considered discipline to be something inflicted on me by someone else for an incorrect behavior.  This class discussed how we should be disciplined within our own lives such as being disciplined to make it to work on time. 

I started thinking about how I lack discipline in several areas of my life – mainly domestic.  I don’t clean enough and keep things neat and tidy.  I tend to through things around and clutter up my environment.  I need to be more disciplined with myself and create a routine to keep my environment orderly and uncluttered.  This would be a good start to keeping my life in the same shape and would help me on an emotional level.  When my environment is uncluttered, I feel like my spirit is uncluttered as well.  Just as in Feng Shui, my surrounding environment plays a big role in how my spirit is impacted.

Being disciplined with my environment and also my spirit and emotions appealed to me as well.  I need to learn to be disciplined with the way I interact with other people and discovery what I want with my life.  Not everyone thinks like me and I get over-invested in people easily.  I am still trying to figure out what this means, but it’s time that I do some introspective learning to figure out who I really am and what I want from life.  Until now I’ve been floating in the wind from one branch to another with no aim or direction.  It’s scary but it’s also liberating at the same time.  I no longer want to be vulnerable to other people and how they treat me.

I stayed for the dungeon as well.  I found a spot on one of the couches along the back wall that let me see the entire dungeon.  I became a wall flower on the couch and watched people.  A few of the DM’s (dungeon monitors) came to check on me since I was not interacting with other people.  I told them I’m introverted and I’m doing okay.  I didn’t really want to interact with other people, but I enjoyed the energy of the dungeon.  The people were emanating an energy that was incredibly soothing to my soul.  I felt peace and happiness just sitting alone by myself.  I didn’t feel stressed or anxious at all.

Toward the end of my night a gentlemen came over to say hi since he noticed I was not talking to other people.  I smiled at him and spoke to him in a soft voice explaining I was introverted and happy just sitting on the couch.  He picked up right away that I was a submissive and teased me about it.  Of course I blushed and became embarrassed, trying to sink myself further into the couch.  He sat down next to me and we talked for a bit.  Then he showed me his toys which he pointed out made my eyes glaze over in fascination.

I gave him permission to touch me and he used a small hand-held flogger on my thighs and arms.  The impact was delightful and made me smile.  Then he started tickling me a bit which made me giggle and squirm.  The little girl that usually hides away inside of me started coming to the surface.  She felt free sitting on that couch to be herself and find amusement in the tickling and touch.  When he started petting my hair I found myself soaring with such joy and excitement it was hard to maintain composure.  I enjoyed letting her out to play for a bit and it left me feeling “high” from the endorphins disseminating throughout my brain.

I left the dungeon realizing that I need to let this person inside me be free more often.  I loved the feeling she gave me.  The time that I spent alone and the experience of being free at the Woodshed allowed me to realize that unless significant changes are made Paul will never be able to make me feel the way I did tonight.  I’m okay with being his friend; I’m okay with cuddles; and I’m okay with going places with him but we’ll never be in a relationship as we are.  I sent him an email essentially saying goodbye.  I told him that if and when he needed me or wanted to see me I would be there, but it’s up to him to make the connection.  I am no longer going to force him to interact with me nor have conversations that are one sided.  It hurt but it was necessary.