Wicked Girl Saving Myself

We had to go to the mainland to get this year's heating assistance. This required rounding up all our IDs, paperwork, etc.

• I haven't seen my Social Security card since last year's appointment.
• I almost couldn't get my seat belt on because I'm so big.
• I forgot my wallet.
• We got the time wrong, and showed up at 11:00 instead of 1:10 then had to wait. 
• Innoq didn't have the correct pay stubs.
• We have just fifteen days to get our shit together or we're out of luck this year.
• This involves driving over 200 miles to get a new Social Security card.
• Which we can't do for a week, because that's how long it will take us to arrange a ride.
• And the card has to be mailed, which might take longer than a week.
• Which will mean no heating assistance this year.
• Which will fuck our already precarious finances right in the ear.

And I'm definitely in a slump. I keep hitching my wagon to somebody else's star only to find out their "star" is a street lamp.

• I figured if I did MyFitnessPal with Innoq we could keep each other motivated and accountable. But he doesn't do it anymore because logging food is tedious. Now I feel abandoned, like I'm struggling alone and flailing. I don't like to go to MyFitnessPal now because I see he hasn't been logging in and it bums me even more than my own failure. But this is my goddamn body. It's one thing to need support, another to fail because someone else quits.
• I figured if I ordered my lennán to write for 20 minutes a day -- no less, and only more if he chooses -- I'd feel like a hypocrite for not writing and get back on the ball. But there have been quite a few times when I ordered him to, and he did, and I couldn't. And more times when he wasn't in the right mental/emotional state and I gave him leeway, and I didn't write either. As much as I love feeling that my wonderful, dangerous pet is also my writing partner, I shouldn't depend on him to that degree. I need to figure out what my deal is and fix it for myself. (Note: You're not off the hook, Drake. Drop and give me twenty.)

Working with Black this go-around is evidently kicking up a lot of shit. And I have to face the fact that not all of it is due to illness and poverty. Some of it is on me.

 

This will be updated and expanded as I go along. Black's will probably be the longest, because reasons.

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Black

♬ Adam Lambert

• Better Than I Know Myself
• What Do You Want From Me

♬ Avril Lavigne

• Alice

♬ Delta Rae

• Dance in the Graveyard

♬ Gaia Consort

• Ravens

♬ Kelly Clarkson

• Dark Side

♬ Loreena McKennitt

• Dark Night of the Soul

♬ S.J. Tucker

• Crystal Cave
• Rootless
• Storm

♬ Wendy Rule

• Everywhere & Nowhere
• The Raven Song

What's amusing/confusing me right now is that everyone still seems to be entertaining the delusion that there is a community.

I'm sorry, y'all. There isn't -- much as I might wish otherwise. We're a collective of individuals with sometimes violently different opinions, some of whom hive off into cliques. 

It's high school on the internet, and the only thing we really have in common is that we all use Tumblr.

Before I start, I want to underline the fact that I'm talking about myself and my own journey. I'm not criticizing anyone else, nor am I handing out advice. I don't particularly want advice, either. Support and encouragement? Hell, yes! I need that. Advice? Not so much, though if I do need it I promise I'll ask. :)

( TW: Talk of the dietary and weight-loss aspect of wellness. )

Innoq just expressed his displeasure about sleeping through church by cussing.

When I say I'm a switch I usually mean that I submit to men, dominate women, and negotiate depending on the situation with anyone non-binary. I never wanted to dominate a man. Not long ago the mere suggestion would have gotten a laugh out of me.

My lennán and I, though, had been experimenting with our dynamic. I was more willing to at least try to dominate him from time to time even though I preferred to submit or go at it as lusty equals. It was a delightful challenge to explore that. I thought we had the perfect Balance going on.

Until I realized we didn't. Something was off. That rattled me and I had to draw back a dite and have some thinky-thoughts. It didn't take me long to figure it out.

He's a switch, too. He has a deep need to submit occasionally. But in his household he's the Dom. Nobody could top him... but me.

Well, shit. When I see an imbalance I generally feel like I should set it right. And knowing that he had unfulfilled needs shattered me. I never-ever thought I'd find myself in this situation, never really wanted to be, but here we are negotiating a relationship in which I am his Domme. 

I'm still getting used to the idea. We're wading in slowly and communication between us is a constant flow. Often it comes in handy. I get to punish him if he doesn't rest. (He has RA in his knees, badly.) His lovers who are physically with him are so far willing to cooperate, and I'm glad to have them. 

Now, I admit that last night I wanted to throw it all over my left shoulder with a pinch of salt, drop to my knees in front of him, and rest my cheek on his foot. For him to take charge, fuck me into oblivion, and comfort me while I cried. Instead I stepped back. I'm too afraid to upset our precarious apple cart.

I got through it without sending our new dynamic into a tailspin. I'm okay. And as soon as we're both up for a rumble, fucking each other into oblivion is going to happen.

In 1998, during a ritual that was supposed to achieve Something Else Altogether, I ended up getting placed under a geis of veracity.  I had the choice to accept or reject this geis and was given time to think about it. I took three days, then accepted. I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time. Now, knowing what I know and having gone through all that I have, I'd still accept it.

What this means in practical terms is, like the false proverb of George Washington and the cherry tree, I cannot tell a lie. Well, I could, but I'd regret it badly and quickly. Depending on the situation and severity of the transgression I could suffer worse-than-usual illness, loss, bad luck, injury, and that sort of thing if my tongue slips in the wrong kind of way. On the other hand, being mindful of my geis has brought blessings into my life that make it more bearable than it would otherwise be.
 
I can, however, pick and choose my words. I can also just keep my tater trap shut on a matter. Backed into a bad corner, I can and will twist the truth like a Slinky without breaking my geis. I once prided myself in that sort of thing. Words are my stock-in-trade. Being able to be truthful without being completely honest was once a hallmark of my skill.

Once. Over time, having to think about each word that comes out of my mouth and fingertips caused some moral adjustments to be made. I was never actually a liar. My parents wouldn't stand for it. But I'm not without flaws, any more than any other sentient B/being is truly flawless (Christian mythos aside). I'm sure I slipped with "little white lies" to cover my ass on more-or-less the same average as most kids.

I'm a practical kind of critter. I prefer to Get Shit Done and Solve Problems. I don't have patience for philosophy that doesn't serve a concrete end. But thinking about truth and how best to tell it at any given moment segued into thoughts of ethics and honor, respect and responsibility. The way I treat others and handle various situations began to evolve accordingly. From out of having to tell the truth I began to strive to live my life with Honor in one hand and Compassion in the other.

However, this post would turn into a teal deer if I went on about that, so I'll confine it to my relationship with the truth. To sum up:

♥ I just might tell you stories but I won't ever tell you lies.
♥ I will tell the truth as I see it and to the best of my understanding.
♥ I will tell the truth in a way tailored to the hearer's specific preferences and needs.*

* Some people are sensitive and need "the gentle version" while some people would rather be told forthrightly no matter how hurtful the truth might be.

 My blog is new, and most of y'all are just getting to know me. I can (and do) browse back through y'all's blogs to get up to speed on the wtf but y'all can't with me.

So, because I believe in Balance and fairness, I'm going to make two "random facts about me" posts per day. One will be public, the other will be locked. If there's something ya'll would particularly like me to touch upon you have but to ask.

I paid hard for pushing myself too much yesterday. I woke up at around 8:00, then got up for about 20 minutes to see Innoq off to work and give him very precise instructions for mailing a package. Then I fucked off back to bed. I didn't get up again until 1:30 in the afternoon. I was flattened. 

I perked up after that. He brought home pasta fagioli, and though I wasn't crazy about it I was grateful for the warmth and nutrients. I didn't do anything the rest of the day. (Well, offline. Online I got into some interesting mischief.)

Tomorrow Innoq and I are going out with a friend we only see once or twice a year. She's well-to-do and loves to take us on adventures, places we'd not be able to go otherwise. We'll be hitting a museum, a bookstore, probably an antique mall, and a nice restaurant. I really look forward to these outings. I wish I had my walker already, so it would be easier and less painful. I'll take things as easy as I can.

On Wednesday I'll be resting as much as I can, too, because on Thursday we have Thanksgiving at a different friend's house. After Thanksgiving I probably won't be good for much of anything for days!