Daily Archives: November 16, 2022

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!

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Filed under Defining myself

Got to be grateful

I have a bunch of friends, mostly online but there some friends that I once knew offline when I lived in London, but maintain contact with them online only these days.

Quite a few of these friends are new age, hippies, gothic, artistic or writers of some description or another and at least two thirds are part of the LGBTQ community – nearly half of which believe in doing one thing regularly;

Being grateful or finding gratitude in things, no matter how hard they might be.

This is something I have never really thought about for myself.

Ungrateful cow, eh?

But some of my friends are encouraging me to become grateful even for the hard times, because it will result in healing old wounds.

They have claimed it has helped them somewhat.

Becoming more self-reflective is key to understanding the pains and turmoil’s of the past, so you can then sweep the negative space clear and put in a positive vibe via gratitude.

Nobody has ever really taught me to be grateful, not in the way I have always tried to encourage Henry to be.

It’s funny that – how I’ve always made a point in ensuring Henry is always grateful for what he has, yet I never practised what I preached there for myself.  Well, to tell the truth, I am grateful for what I have now, even though it is much less than what is comfortable and much less than what I used to have – but I am grateful I am not in a worse situation than this, I’ve always have been.

I am very grateful for living in a country that cares for its poor and sick like they do, I am very grateful not to be a situation of many other people in the world.

I am also grateful for no longer being in situations I used to be or having certain people in my life anymore.

But that’s just generalising and in order to do this properly I shouldn’t generalise, I should be more in depth about what I am grateful for.

Things from my past;

I am grateful that although my mother wasn’t the best, she at least had one personality trait which stopped her being much worse than she was – that is the fear of what others thought of her.  This always held her back from doing the things she really wanted to do to me, because she would often tell me exactly how she felt, but how she wouldn’t do it, because of so and so.

But she was still who she was, despite this.  Imagine if she was more self-assured, what my life could have been like if she had been more confident to be herself.

I am grateful for the situations my family put me into, living amongst addicts and drunks and domestic abuse temporarily and then moving me onto more stable homes, so I learned to appreciate what my true home life was like in comparison!

I think that’s why my mother did that – move me around a lot to different people for weeks on end, to show me, that in the scheme of things – or in the scheme of what is available in the family, our house was a haven in comparison.

Even if it was a prison, it was quieter, more predictable and physically safe if you did what you were told.  In some of the other homes I spent time in, it didn’t matter if you were good as gold, if they were inclined to hurt you, they’d hurt you!

I was always grateful for how clean, organised and fresh the main house was in comparison to some places I was sent to live, where their houses were infested with rats and beds weren’t made, they had no bottom sheets and in the winter in order to keep warm you had to snuggle up with the kids you shared the bed with and the dogs just to keep warm!

It’s funny looking back at how those places were actually considered my happy places, my favourite places to go to, to get away from mum.  The people were nice, but poor, much poorer than Paul and I – this is something to be grateful for.  I don’t have to scrounge around at neighbour houses begging for 50p for the electric metre like the mother of the house did and then go to her dad’s house to get them fed, because her husband drank away the food money for her and her 5 children and an extra to boot!

It’s one of the reasons why I am tired of sausage and beans, it was a staple there.  My mum tried to teach me to be grateful by showing me we are much better off, because we would also have sausages and beans, but with chips and fried eggs and buttered bread and double portions to them around twice a week on average.  Good living, she thought, though she could afford more, it was laziness more than anything when she was home cooking. 

This is why from the age of 7yrs, she insisted I would be the main cook of the house as she had night shifts to do and couldn’t spend the time to cook for everyone, so left it to me – because it’s normal I her family that the eldest or only daughters are fully domestic by 7yrs old and can take a mothers place at the drop of a hat.

I learned by 9yrs old, there is one thing you should never do as cook of the house and that is ask dad what he fancies for dinner as it will almost always be steak and chips, pie and chips, fish and chips or a full English breakfast!

By the time I was 11yrs old I learned lots of recipes from other relatives and I diversified our diet a lot, mum pushed against it for a while, until she learned that some of the food I was making was actually nice.  She never had a Bolognese before I was 11 and it became one of her most favourite meals of all time ever since!

As time went on the diet got healthier, for them.

I am very grateful for the freedom I had in choosing what I cooked in my main home.

Always had compliments throughout all the family over the years about being “the proper little housewife”, someone who didn’t laze around, always willing to help, someone reliable and dependable.

It’s why it’s hard being here now, where I feel like I am not needed by anyone and if anything in the way!  Its poles apart from the life I used to have, where I’d skip from relative to relative, living with them temporarily and cleaning and cooking for them.

Everyone was happy to have Tina over for any length of time, I was a treat for them, I even remember my mum setting up rota system, and it was almost like a bidding war to get me to stay with them at times!

My maternal grandmother, Uncle John, honorary aunties Gina and Anna (which turned out to be distant cousins), Cousin Jenny and neighbour Debs, honorary granny Esme, got me the most though!  Seems a lot of people but actually weren’t a lot to me.  Mum wouldn’t let me stay anywhere more than six weeks in case I bonded too much!

I am grateful that I had that kind of life, shifting from person to person, it made me broadminded and adaptable, it also taught me how to change like a chameleon – I suppose it taught me acting skills.  Because each household was different, some were really poor and I mean this in the best possible way – but common, others were posh, others middle row and you had to adapt your behaviour and speech to where in the country you were going and the class of people you are going to socialise with the most at the time.

It really was adapt or die, or at least have a hard life there!

This even meant my religion had to change to whom I stayed with as many of these people went to church, the cathedral, the JW meetings and so forth.

I remember going to stay with some relatives where egg and chips is a luxury, you wear jog suits and hoodies, you have to be into RNB and rap and you have to play console games and learn how to talk about football.  If you didn’t you didn’t get to have friends, you were ignored in the corner as the weird posh girl.

I also remember going to other places where I have to groom horses and talk about horse racing, horse breeding, dog shows, dog breeding, gardening and sitting in watching cousins learn gymnastics and ballet – I wanted to join in but my mum wouldn’t give my relatives the money for me to participate.  Do you have any idea how humiliating it is seeing your thin beautiful cousins doing all that, whilst you are the fat girl sitting on a bench watching grumpily whilst the tutor tries to talk you into making your mother part with cash so I can join in for the benefit of my health and being told umpteen times at the age of 9yrs old that I am responsible for my weight, not my mother?

It’s really humiliating actually! 

Just as embarrassing is being the only fat person in a household of half-starved poor kids, especially as I was the most vocal about being so hungry all the time!  I feel bad for them now, back then I was very selfish upon reflection and didn’t have much empathy for them, I was entitled I guess.

I sometimes wonder if the universe is cruel enough to punish people for their lack of insight as children when they are much older… like living here in poverty like this with Paul is some kind of karmic debt?

But I was never mean or rude about it; I was just self-absorbed that’s all – I mean, isn’t every child?

I know I was ungrateful back then for a lot of the kindness I got.  I remember thinking sometimes that their dog ate more than we did in some of those homes.

I even remember saying this once half-jokingly and the mother said, we have to feed the dog he works!  The dog belonged to her husband who was a security guard and the dog went to work with him every night!

It’s a funny contrast too, when you are with the richer families who are super posh and they seem more self-absorbed than you – but on Sundays they go to do charity work as a family at soup kitchens etc. and you tag along to help them.

You try to tell these people, you know the soup they need should contain noodles, meat chunks or vegetable chunks, not be pureed within an inch of its life, it’s not filling.  They look at you and rightfully challenge “what would you know”?  Because they didn’t think I had other lives with other people who were like the people they were helping, they thought I was like them and they didn’t know any better!

I remember telling them once about what I have experienced, they laughed raucously and told my mother about the funny little stories I make up and how I definitely will be a writer some day!

Mum never told them the truth, just laughed along with them agreeing!

I will always be grateful for whatever food or shelter I get, whatever warmth I get, whatever attention I get and whatever help I get.  My life has taught me never to take anything for granted, because you never know how long it will all last.

You can be the richest person ever and lose it all over night due to a storm or a thief or anything, but you can also be a pauper and strike it lucky and find your feet and soar.  I’ve seen it happen to the best and worst of people – I am grateful for having such an enriched life full of varied experiences, no matter how painful they were.

I learned a lot.

I have learned what I am comfortable with and what I am not comfortable with and the types of people that make it better for me in the long run.

I’ll admit I prefer the comfort and mindlessness of buying a whole bowl of fruit without pinching the pennies, I would love to go back to the place where the idea of choosing blueberries or pomegranates this week is laughable, just stick them both in the trolley, don’t be silly, we’re not that bad off!

Of course, anyone would! 

I remember spending £25 a week on just a handful of different magazines, £50 a week on take outs, £20 a week in lunch money, £20 a week in bingo with gran and anything up to £75 a week on books and clothes – this is a dream these days!  Those days died out for me fourteen years ago! 

I can’t buy any magazines anymore, not even once a month.  Take outs never more than £14 once a month if we can afford it or cut back on other things for the treat, we can’t spend money on the lottery anymore let alone bingo – £40 is our average food bill for the whole household and there is nothing spare for books and clothes, clothing money goes to creditors through catalogues if we’re desperate. 

I suppose I should be grateful buying things on credit is an option, especially as there are rumours the government wants to ban those sorts of enterprises. 

Thanks for reading…

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Filed under About Me

Falling fool

Can somebody stop me now?

I am falling hard

Falling fast

Into a sea of sharks and pain

Falling hard like rain

Falling down the drain

Spiralling out of control in the air

Can somebody stop me?  Do you care?

I am in pain right now

It hurts so bad

It drives me mad

I am clad in thick grey clouds

Falling through the crowds in despair

But nobody sees me there

Am I alone in this world?

Is everyone deaf and blind?

Or have I really lost my mind?

Do I exist at all?

Why do I exist to fall?

I can’t keep falling more

There has to be a time where I can soar

And fly these heights on a feathered wings

A time where my cries leave me and I can sing

It can’t always be this way

Falling more and more each day

Things surely have to change

Or else I am deranged

I’m a falling fool

With nowhere to land

Falling onwards and onwards into dreamland

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Filed under poetry

Pollyanna is dying

Pollyanna is dying, a slow and awkward death

She wants to stay positive

But should she hold her breath?

Things will work against her

Like they always do

There is only so much light here

Here within the blue

She is drowning in the misery

Of broken promises and lies

The blue are the tears that came from her

From all her heartfelt cries

She tried to keep them happy

With a little charm and wit

But they flogged her daily

With words so full of shit

Slowly they made her like them

Slowly her heart turned to stone

Because slowly the eels gnawed at her

Through her flesh and bone

Her happiness frustrated them

They couldn’t stand her words

It made them feel insubstantial

She is stupid and absurd

Of course life is not like that

They said day to day

How can you sit and tell us

Those things are bright and gay?

I tell you now, we will make you

See what life is like

That the whole world is a hard place

It will hit you like a spike!

You won’t be happy much longer

Not when we’re done and through with you

You say you should find the positives

We say, you have no clue!

You are stupid and naive

And we’re here to tell the truth

There is nothing so nice about life

Nothing is sweet and smooth!

You stupid little girl

With your stupid sweet ways

We are tired of you seeing things sideways!

We’ll knock you down and you’ll be like us

Off a pedestal

You will hurt like the rest of us

We are taking you to school!

The joy and laughter will leave you

When you come and see the truth

Do your lesson well and we will show you proof!

You can’t have these or this or that

You can’t be happy in mounds of scat

You will eat the shit of life we give you

Down here in the deep blue

You can’t tell me there’s something grateful here

Yes that’s right go and shed your tears

You are learning good, now shut your mouth

Or else we’ll go worse on you and take you to the South!

So Pollyanna is dying, she is leaving me

Pollyanna was once alive, deep inside of me

But they made me see that things aren’t bright

And maybe things one day won’t be alright?

Maybe they’ll stay the same and they won’t change at all

We are in this for the long haul

Can I ever see the light again or am I in too deep?

Will I have the courage, to close my eyes and sleep?

I can’t tell right now at all

Because today I am at a wall

It is blocking my sight to see

I wished I could be free

But I am stuck here in the blue

My only hope is to be fished out by you

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Filed under poetry