Foosball!

Sorry I’ve been so quiet today!  I slept 13 hours solid last night and woke up to a foosball addiction!

I always wanted a foosball table since I was a kid, can you imagine the excitement when Henry announced that he wanted Santa to bring him one?

OK it’s a table top version, but I love it!

Can see me playing this with him a lot!

Thanks for reading!

Meet my shadow

Would you like to see my shadow?

My shadow self, I mean. 

Do you even know what I am talking about?

No?

Well, a shadow self is the dark side of you – the personality traits and habits you have that you are not proud of having and try to repress, the things you feel shame about, the things you fight hard against.   For many people its things like anger, sadness, rage, jealousy and cruelty and habits like addiction, self-harming and so forth.

So, do you want to see my shadow?  Or at least the bits I am willing to share about it?

If not, then tough – because this is what this post is about, my shadow self!

A lot of the shame aspect of my shadow isn’t so much my real feelings about them, but the kinds of feelings I was beaten into believing is shameful about them – brainwashed brutally by others to supress about myself. 

Some things about my shadow self, I am actually rather proud of and I want to bring it out into the open a lot more.  But because I was brutalised into shame for those things, I can’t help but burn up all over whenever I dare think about being that person!

When I was a lot younger, I am talking adolescent age; I took up smoking for a few weeks until I developed a bad chest infection. 

It is one of my hidden fetishes as I found smoking sexy in some ways and still do; even though it’s not sexy at all really… it’s dangerous for the health.  But I am definitely someone who finds certain styles of smokers pleasing to look at.  This is one of the things I feel shame about, because it’s a selfish act – I am not thinking of the smoker’s health here, just my own lust at the aesthetic of at looking at them.

I took up smoking because I wanted to be that sexy smoker with the cigarette extension at posh parties, but my chest couldn’t take it, so it soon stopped!

I won’t go back into it again and my own guilty conscience could never use anyone for that aesthetic, as I really do care about people I love.

Although I am a very open person and I have lived with polygamists and been involved with open relationships, I am a jealous person – if I know I am not getting the quality of attention and care I desire; if neglected too long I can be positively vicious or over enthusiastic, depends on the person and what happened between us.

I admit I can be a vengeful person, but I tend to decline from violence whenever possible because I have a problem that can’t be managed well, when in a violent situation.  I am afraid to admit that I have been physically brutalised so much in my life, I have the same traumatic response as a war veteran. 

If violence is not easily avoided, I zone out, go red and attack back to the extent I can’t relay what I did to the person, other people have to tell me.  It’s like I go into a trance or something.  This is why, if I feel a violent situation is going too far I have to do the so-called cowardly thing and walk away!  It’s a huge part of the PTSD I have.

I know it sounds counterproductive, but this is where another fetish of mine comes in useful – I have been involved deeply in the BDSM lifestyle as both sub and dominant.  I prefer sub when I am in a relationship where I completely love and respect the man, it’s hard when I don’t love deeply or respect them enough to submit to them  It does matter to me, I can’t just submit to anyone.

But a good trusting dominant that I love and respect, knows what boundaries I have and respects them, pushes them from time to time as they build trust with me and it actually helps with the PTSD over a time. 

It’s hard for me to top a guy I love and respect though.  I prefer not being the dominant partner if am honest with you.

Which leads to another shadow trait I have – intense pride, I feel a lot of pride when I am a submissive to the right guy – I am proud for being what they need me to be at the time, I am proud to help, proud to do things… if those things make me comfortable and they respect my boundaries.  Now for those who aren’t involved in the lifestyle, you may feel that a submissive can’t have boundaries – but they do, in fact they are more respected than vanilla/regular relationships in my opinion.

I am so happy within myself when I feel needed or given a task or I have successfully done something for the one I love.

Another thing is, I need a man who likes to take control like that – especially if they have high standards, because I do not thrive without someone like that in my life.  I go stagnant, I don’t look after myself properly and I let myself go; Which is strange because I am a proud person and I am very vain by my nature, but again, society has brutalised that out of me… so when I am not in a controlling relationship with a vain guy who has high standards, my vanity flies out of the window too – because I am naturally also quite modest.

Because I was made to be modest, it is unacceptable to be vain in the religious communities I was raised in.

Paul is not a vain person – he doesn’t care what I look like, he is just happy having me around or was until recently.  But I know from past experiences, when I have had a guy who does care and does have high standards, I never slack on my beauty regime and trying to look my best, because I don’t want to fail him!

It’s hard to get the motion going without someone like that in my life, because I don’t have the inclination to do it just for myself, because I don’t get the same sense of pride from it.

I am also ashamed to admit I thrive on praise, if I don’t get enough of it, it doesn’t feed my pride so I become like a hungry lioness that starts to rebel because I haven’t been acknowledged enough – yes, I admit I am hard work!

My dream would be to be part of a couple where we motivate each other, we have similar needs but are polar opposites, I am submissive they are dominant, but we both need each other for the praise and challenge to make each other the best that we can be for each other, with true team work.

Though saying that, some of my fetishes seem to put the dominant into a bottom role at times, I love foot fetishists, I love having my feet sensually acknowledged and that can be difficult thing to broach with some dominant men.

I know the shadow aspect is more than just sex, but I am following a pattern of thought here, from one thing to another and it just so happens to be sexually related right now.

To the right dominant I will be completely 100% loyal to and could do almost anything within my limits for, not just in the bedroom, but in life too.  I have a strong sense of integrity though, which can put up certain blocks for how much the dominant can harness me.

I will do anything for them, but if it goes against my hard-core beliefs, you’d have a hard time convincing me to do it and that’s where another trait of mine comes into play.  I am renowned for being stubborn!

Yes I have stubborn integrity!

If I don’t respect or love someone deeply enough or if my integrity is being challenged, I am so incredibly stubborn and forthright that nothing will stand in my way to maintain my poise and position on the matter and I will respond to it viciously if I must.

I remember an old Lord who met me once, got off on the wrong foot with me with his naughty disrespectful behaviour (non-sexual) and I told him a few home truths and I got the nickname “Sparky” from him!

Another shadow trait I have is self-harming if I believe I have let people I love down or humiliated them in some way – I also self-harm when I feel humiliated or stupid, or if I am too stressed without support.  I just go and sit in the corner and scratch myself to pieces with broken glass!  Though that happens rarely these days, in fact the last relapse I’ve had with that was about three years ago.

What’s worse is whenever possible I will try not to cry in front of people, so people never really know how upset I have got over things as I tend to hide myself away, though lately that’s getting difficult to do as I am getting more emotional as I am getting older. but a good master or dominant man will know to always double check on me.

Another part of my shadow self goes back to fetishes again, I switch easily from sub to dominant to alpha submissive on sister subs if I am in a polygamous household.  I don’t like dominant women and I have a hard time having any woman try to top me, in fact – just don’t even try to go there!

But with other submissive women I have a playful dominant streak which can sometimes be too teasing and borderline cruel; I have to be reined in at times – but it depends on who the other person is; the less I like them the naughtier I get with them.  Yes, viciousness is a part of who I am at times – but it rarely rears its ugly head, because generally I just want to be nice and helpful most of the time!

Another thing, I am a huge attention whore – I mean, I don’t just like being acknowledge a bit… I like a lot of hands on attention and I have been known to be called “exhausting” by some previous relationships on both a physical and mental level.

I need a lot of touching, snuggling, feeling, playing – you get me?  When I am not getting that I tend to talk people to death, or at least that’s how they make me feel at times.

I often think that I need a dominant man who can handle all that but also socialises a lot, so he can take me out to a party or something and point me in a direction and say “look, friends, go talk to them” and nudge me over to them so he can have a break lol.

Another thing is, I have to be boring at events etc. in that I only drink three glasses of any kind of alcohol, unless they are shot glasses then maximum seven.  Because to me, I love alcohol and I think it could be all too easy for me to follow my family down the alcoholism line.  Because to me, alcohol is really nice and it’s like soda to me!  So I avoid it, because I know myself well enough.

I have had ex alcoholic boyfriends in the past and I have respected them enough to NEVER drink alcohol around them, because I know addiction is hard.

If you hadn’t noticed yet, another shadow aspect of me is sex addiction.  Actually, it can be a real problem if I am with a very erm… playful guy?

I am one of these people that gain more energy with it, I am very lusty and have a high libido – same with normal exercise too – if I am lethargic and can’t be motivated to do much due to laziness just make me exercise – if you are in a relationship with me, sex is more fun! 

I have been complained at for having such a high drive that an ex felt I used them only for their body… so… lol

Up until recently I was very embarrassed about being super childish and repressed it hugely, but healing my inner child is bringing the childishness out more and more and though, sometimes it can be a bit much for a forty year old woman to act the way I do… I am happier for it!

I can be bratty at times; if I know I can get away with it with people.  I am talking Verruca Salt here, but then again I am easier to please than her as I have modest desires really!

All I tend to want are fluffy cushions, snuggles, pets, books, endless art supplies, perfumes and a virile dominant man – what more could I possibly want? … Oh and a big kitchen, a happy family and a good sized garden… nearly forgot those essentials!

I avoid eating candy outside of ovulation because it makes me hyper.  I am talking squirrel on caffeine kind of hyper!  Give me candy during ovulation should be a part of any man’s survival manual if they are in my life!  I turned into a right monster when sugar deprived around then!

Just imagine a 40yr old Verruca Salt shouting “Give me candy now, or I will scream and scream and scream”, you kind of get the message… though I am polite, so I am likely to say please, the rude part comes if anyone dares say no to me at this time.

People give in, because when I scream, it’s reminiscent of Madeline Kahn.

So there you have it – my shadow in all its glory…

I can’t say I feel any better for sharing it – if anything I kind of feel embarrassed about it and might hide for a year or two over it… but never mind.

I may just plod along.

Thanks for reading!

I won’t judge them!

There are a lot of people I miss from my past.

A lot of holes in my heart that hasn’t been filled by the loss of those people who were once in my life and some of them are dead now and some of them won’t talk to me because of their loyalties to others who have harmed me and so; they are not part of my life anymore.

Even the best of them had a lot of problems that the average Joe couldn’t cope with, but I didn’t mind them as they were the lesser evils in my life.  I know it sounds bad to call them that, but if you had known what I was up against day to day you’d have a hard time believing that some of the people I miss were the good ones, but to me, they were the best!

To me they were brilliant, vibrant, they made me happy and they kept my confidence from reaching rock bottom.

So what if they had problems with their anger, drink, drugs, crime, so what if they were benefit scroungers, scarred, societal oddballs that had dubious leanings to the occult or were overzealous bible punchers.  They were nice people to me and I loved them.

Even if sometimes I would be scared to visit them because their husband is home for once and drunk at the time and I never knew if I would need to stick around for her sake, just in case an ambulance was needed.  Even if I knew that they themselves were drunk and would go on their vicious rants about other people I loved and would then start becoming weird with me, I knew they weren’t always like that and I forgave them because their lives were in some ways just as horrible as my own, if not more so.

To be honest, I think it was only a small margin of people in my life who weren’t addicted to something or another or didn’t have some kind of serious mental issue about them.  To me, I am easily hurt in honouring them – what I mean is, I see people don’t forgive people like those easily.  People don’t really support people like them unless they’ve been there themselves or loved someone who have been.

So it drives me around the twist when I see a lovely person like these people, striving hard against all the odds to become a sober person and someone bad from their past comes along to upset the cart or people who don’t understand or know them judge them harshly for their pasts where the poor buggers are sitting there wondering is there any point at all in being sober if I am constantly going to be judged all the time?

 Is it any wonder they think that at all?  I mean, why do people judge others for their past?  The past is gone, praise them for their efforts now, never wield it as a weapon against them by suggesting that they need you, because oh you know, you’d go back to that way of life without me.  That is blackmail and I have a hard time sitting around hearing that kind of vomit coming out of people’s mouths. 

I have lost people I love to this, suicide because why did they bother?  Murdered because their past friends snuck an injection into their arms when they weren’t looking at a party for an old time’s sake! 

I’ve seen it all and I don’t like it.

I don’t like how people judge them.

It breaks my heart because all I can see are their floods of tears and their war wounds, still fighting hard against all the odds, and yet society wants to kick them down again – because they think that once you’re in that type of life, you always belong there and it isn’t true!

Society needs to change; they need to praise them when they try to get sober.  Not kick them in the gutter because they tried to get a job and you’re judging them because they were honest with you about their past and why it took them so long to make the decision to have that career now!

I am disgusted at the law for locking addicts away into prisons making them criminals, when in fact most of them are actually very good law abiding citizens who only use their addictions as a means to cope with life’s hurdles.

Instead there should be recuperation centres or something, but not a prison.

Why am I talking about all of this today? 

Because I miss a lot of people who have or had had that kind of life, I miss them a lot and I worry about them every day, I love them all a lot and I bet they think I don’t even think of them anymore – but I do!

My family run rife with drunks and junkies, some are law abiding but there are a couple who are out and out criminals, I won’t hide that.

To think I escaped that kind of life, people think it’s a miracle – but I don’t because you know… I see how addiction works, I understand it, I was raised to see it in every possible personality type you can think of.  I did in fact become drunk for a small while in my youth because it made me human or so my mum and brother told me… here have another drink before you dry out and become like an old prune again Tee.

When I was drunk I was hysterical, I mean scared hysterical, not laughing at all – paranoid that the walls are falling around me, where is the floor?  Scary stuff!

My family observed me through morphine when I was recovering from mastoid surgery; they knew what type of addict I would have been based on my behaviour during that time so they said – though it was small doses for two weeks. 

Their observations scared me.  According to them, I tend to be the type to love the world, be in awe of everything that’s beautiful, be easy going, do anything to me and I would do anything to myself sort.  My brother freaked out, this is the type that is going to die on this stuff mum – make sure to keep her away from it!

They told me what I was like when I had it, it was enough to keep me away.  They judged I’d be easy to bed, easy to anything and way too honest with people – a no, no in the family, I’d be a spill the beans and everything else on the floor type, my tongue is loose on those things, so they say. 

I know on general anaesthetic it lasts longer on me too and although it’s kind of different people have also reported similar personality in me to the above observations.  Lover of the world, everything is beautiful, I love you and you and you, yeah you can touch me, yeah I will stick my hand in the BBQ and take the hot coal out for you with my bare hands… seriously, this has happened to me and nobody stopped me doing it either, because the stupid bitch will learn, won’t she?

Nope, that happened twice in my life and nearly a third time when Paul was with me! Up until recently I was naturally trusting because I was always hopeful in finding the best in people, gets worse or comes back when I am drowsy because of meds. I still do try not to lose my faith in people – some will say that’s my biggest fault.

My family didn’t stop me doing things just because I was recovering from surgery and still under some kind of anaesthetic influence, Paul has seen what they’ve done to me, you could ask him yourself if you like?  You have his email up there in the Email me tab.

Paul is sensible; on the two occasions I have lived with him and had been under the influence of anaesthetic he forces me to stay in bed for around 48 hours, it takes a time to leave me.  It’s weird, even the doctors are puzzled why it stays longer in me.

Gosh I miss some of these people.  I miss the console game parties they had, I miss the pub lunches once a month with them, I miss the dogs I had to babysit for them.  I miss the gardening we used to do together as we helped our elderly relatives maintain their gardens, all sorts of things.

I miss the cuddles as they tell me that “you’re going to be OK, you smart beautiful girl because you are amazing and strong and you don’t let people push you into crazy shit like this” they say as they hold up their joint to me.

There’s too many, that are gone.

But never ever feel that I will ever judge you because of your past, that’s not me.  I am not that kind of person! 

I love you for who you are now and who you are striving to be and I wish that you will grow stronger and ignore anybody who tells you that you can’t change – you can change, you’ve probably changed so much already, but NEVER EVER let anyone make you believe that you can’t do it without them!

Never!

I love you all and I send all the positive vibes your way to help you heal whatever wound you have whether you are an addict or not!

Thank you for reading!

Health update & cataloging books

For the next few days I will be cataloguing all of the books in this house (with maybe the exception of my son’s bedroom as I want to live till the end of the week), to put on Goodreads.com as there has been some debate from some of my reader friends about just how many books I actually own because according to what they see on Goodreads I don’t have much.  Well I only used to add those that I bought at the time I have been a member of Goodreads, not all the ones I had before I became a member of the site – so, apparently I have to prove my hoarding addiction to the world – lol.

So that is my challenge for the week and it is back breaking!  You’re probably laughing your heads off at what you think is an exaggeration, but for me it is a reality.  Being bed bound sick for the last 7yrs has severely weakened my core that even standing up for more than 15 minutes at a time is very painful.  I think the diet I have been doing for immune boosting is working, because I am having more days out of bed, in fact I haven’t had a full day in bed since around the 21^st of January.

I still need to go back up there regularly, but I am definitely seeing an improvement.  I am also taking extra vitamins with it all too.  I am not losing any weight, in fact gaining it – which is disturbing for me, because my calories are less.  Sugar and fat content is less, food is more nutritionally dense than before and I am slightly more active than I used to be.  It is puzzling why, I have the weight gain.  I am eating approximately 400 calories a day less than I did before these changes and I am doing more around the house, I am now able to care a little for the rabbit and even make snacks and lunches whereas I hadn’t been able to since 2016.  The weight gain is only 5 pounds, but it is freaking me out – somebody suggested my insomnia could be a reason for it, because your  metabolism is determined by your sleep patterns, not sure what to think of that!

My sleep patterns are all over the place.  I usually can’t sleep before 5am and sleep 9 hours a day on average, sometimes I need 13 hours, don’t know why.  I hate sleep, I really find it a time wasting thing and I resent that I need more than the average person because of my infections, arthritis and so forth.  I am trying to force my body into a sleep pattern, by forcing myself to wake up by 10am regardless of when I slept the night before; I started doing this 3 days ago, and last night I think my body decided OK, I will sleep now and the last time I saw the clock it was 02:10am, so I think it’s working a little.

I am really trying to discipline my body.  I am pleased also that whatever is happening to my body, I am able to do around 15 minutes of exercise before getting really tired – it’s a big thing for me, because as I said, I have hardly been able to move for a few years and all of this has happened much quicker than I thought it would.  But all in all there is not a massive difference in my pain levels or infections. 

I’m just trying to force myself and it is torture, I will tell you.  I need to get back to my athletic self again.  I used to be very athletic, I was always up and doing things and loved sport and I miss it so much!  Honestly, this was NOT a lifestyle choice for me, I genuinely became too ill to move and this is why I resent people who think they know about overweight disabled people, people like Anthea Turner!

I have been the victim of disability discrimination and fat discrimination for the past few years and I have seen the worst of humanity – it is especially prevalent with doctors who should know better!

Let’s pray you assholes who fat shame and hate on disabled people are never put into a situation where you are injured and sick enough not to be able to move and that you get fat too and get karma kicking your asses like you would deserve!

addictive photography

Shooting pictures all around the garden, a pigeon, a dandelion, a snail

Photography is getting addictive on a phenomenal scale

Clicking here, clicking there, clicking everything I see

Beautiful nature frozen in time, just by me

Gamblers beware

You love to gamble, you know it’s true

It’s just something you have to do

You sit there watching the balls roll

Bingo is good it has an easy flow

A community of women nattering away

Spending more money, so they can play

Adding dots to their tickets, hoping that it’s their turn to win

As do roulette players as the wheel spins

Little numbers on a wheel

Will you win?

Is this bet for good or ill?

Then a game of poker is just what the gambler needs

You just hope that your opponent isn’t up to tricky deeds

The slot machines sets you in a trance

Whilst the fruit and bells spins as if in a dance

You keep on pressing those little buttons

Those tiny wins make you a glutton

You’re sure you’ll get it big right now

If you take another turn

Win back your losses or so you think

Then you sulk as your luck has spurned

Then you think, you’ll deposit some more

Then you find in your mind there’s war

You know you need to stop right there

But you keep pumping money into the machines in despair

You need that win, you need it now

But your luck has just turned stale

You’re now a gambler in a terrible world

You now need help to get unfurled

Gamblers anonymous is your new group

They help everybody in all age groups

So stop the gaming and stop it now

Your debts will get paid back, somehow

But not by gambling, the debts will get worse

And who’s to blame for your financial curse?

 

A world of puppets

Click, click, clicking away at keyboard keys

Jab, jab, jabbing all day long at ease

Tapping, typing, online fighting

Trolling, scrolling, mind-controlling

Internet brain freeze

 

Every day I see it

Everywhere it is

Internet addiction

A world of computer whizz kids

 

Everyone neglected in a new and loveless world

Every baby howling for their mother but her reaction is unfurled

This is society’s nightmare, but they don’t see it yet

We’re plugged into sockets of mobiles handsets

 

We can’t keep on living in a brainless zombie world

We need to unplug ourselves from this heartless dream-world

Talking to strangers is an everyday thing

Yet twenty years ago it was baffling

 

Knowledge is the fruit of power but in this day it’s not

To cheat and look up online is very, very hot

You don’t need a brain anymore it seems

Just ignore your baby, blot out its screams

 

This is just what they wanted

The government that is

To have a world of puppets

A world where they’re not quizzed

 

Congratulations we have lost, the world we used to know

A world full of robots

A world of endless doze

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading VS Writing – take 2

A few days ago I read another person’s blog (wished I remember whose) and they said that they used to predominantly write poetry and they’ve somehow unwillingly switched to story writing now, they still dabble in poetry from time to time but it is no longer their focus.  It’s funny but I’ve got the opposite problem, I’ve written stories since I was ten years old, in fact novel length stories and even a few sagas but in the last few months I can’t seem to focus on stories anymore (I noticed it’s been since I started reading fiction more) and poetry is coming more than easy for me. 

Why this happened I’ve no clue, but I suspect it has something to do with me reading other peoples stories and their style affecting the way I think about my stories to the point I have probably lost my courage to write effectively.  I think reading fiction for some writers may be dangerous and detrimental to their own story writing and style, if we enjoy non-fiction more but want to write fiction; maybe it’s best for us never to dip our hands into focusing on other peoples novels? 

Whatever I write in story mode seems to be bland and boring, less interesting than what I can read; yet a few years ago when I hardly ever read fiction my stories were interesting, exciting, different and a lot more people commented positively in my work, these days I am getting a lot of frowns and a lot of “what the Hell happened to you” kind of comments.

I tend to over think things, so reading other peoples work makes me analyze them and start comparing myself to them, which is dangerous in any situation to any person.

The problem is, I am starting to enjoy fiction as a reading source, to the extent I am searching high and low for good books I can sink my teeth into, it’s become as big as an addiction as my lust for non-fiction books and the more I read, the less I write.

I am trying to steer myself back into reading non-fiction only, but it’s difficult.

If I want to write stories I’ve noticed it’s coming out in very short prose forms these days, writing in a normal story telling way isn’t working anymore; especially lengthening the stories to a novel size.

Poetry is easier for me these days; in fact I can throw out a poem every fifteen minutes on average and I am desperately trying to teach myself that it’s quality of work not quantity, which seems to be what my subconscious is doing – focusing on quantity, not quality.

I believe the old saying that all writers are mad, because of this…  I certainly feel mad.