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Elmo Session 2/6/24 Tues

Here are some notes for today’s session which I scribbled out last night in journal entry form to myself. I figured you could read them during or follow along as I go through them. 

•Made significant headway with insurance call re surgery

•Ordered and read chapter 1 of Emotionally Immature Parents book; highlighted many points and journaled corresponding bullets. Should I send them to you? Do we have time in sessions to discuss amidst everything else?

•Didn’t finish CV but researched jobs extensively and made spreadsheet to help narrow down where to apply

Somatic Feelings I Can Identify re: PDX & Fear:

•Bad feelings in my stomach like something I’m not supposed to do 

• Feeling of falling & isolation; lone; incapability like need to hold on; fear dissociating while driving bc leaving core/root behind 

• Feelings of being punished for doing something really bad: bad doom; feeling in trouble, or like about to get in trouble 

• Closer I go, the more I feel like something in my mouth/throat stopping me. 

• Feeling of is this right decision? Feeling like what if I’m making big crime like mistake 

Other Notes of Reflection, as prompted by new book (but still have other notes more specific to quotes not shared below):

•Raised w/o self sufficiency 

• Understanding fight response; hate it most bc it’s mean to ppl I love. It’s untameable. It doesn’t make sense when it just starts in. Pushing away and confusing sweet ppl. Make myself more and more hated while desperate for connection; feels like I’m burying hole and choking. So embarrassing. Can’t come back from it. 

• Numb barren zero visible action; they see low Ex Fx so someone unable to ‘do anything.’ Sometimes I worry their words are true. And I get so depressed. Feel far away from self. 

• Feel close to self when out listening to music. 

• Feel scared like how am I ever going to get out of this entrapment. 

• Why can’t I find anyone to help me; why can’t I find anyone to help me scaffold this.

• Scared to submit job apps bc then it’s real and I’m trapped/can’t get out. 

• I want someone to just hold me and tell me im worth it. Missing Tiffany. Want Someone to hold me I can snuggle up against. And I can feel complete and capable of this. But I don’t have it so I have to do it with a super fucked up confused and scarce brain. 

• Why won’t my brother see as real person or me moving as a legitimate event to make happen. It’s senile to me. 

Last few days, reflections on our dynamic & events of last few days:

• Parents betrayal: “we won’t help you with Elmo, Amy, or your masters— you have to use Exxon for that” — makes me feel twisted up in throat can’t breathe. Makes me feel twisted like screaming crying curling up and dying bc confused why I’m being punished for that. They said they’d pay for ED treatment and know I’ve been waiting for Amy’s new program to begin early 2024. 

• Dad called my actions “elder abuse” today (action was me texting him at 7:30am and asking if it was AM or PM and that cat is scratching). He always says text him if cat scratching walls and this is well after the time he normally wakes up. But he came stomping into bedroom while I was sleeping and naked and said this is elder abuse that I’d text a “preposterous question” (I sleep texted it) and that it’s elderly abuse to “imply he must go feed my cat” but really I just wondered whether I’d only slept a few hours having gone to bed 4am or whether I’d slept all day and maybe it was 7:30pm not AM, so I could assess whether I was functioning enough to go downstairs and feed cat or if she was even hungry at all. In recent days dad had no problem calling Lilah away from the walls she scratches and letting me get more sleep but he was so enraged and came stomping in and I screamed that I had no clothes on, to please not come in. He yelled at me so badly, I said “this is abuse,” he said “elderly abuse.”

• They were questioning why I didn’t come down and meet their friends who came over on Saturday but I told myself I wanted to honor my boundaries by sleeping all day bc I didn’t want to show my face in front of people my parents have threatened to have talked shit about me to in the past. 

• They also originally told me just Mike my brother was visiting this past weekend, not with Brie so I didn’t prepare for her. Then she came and I was very caught off guard and not in Self at all. I couldn’t access any parts work at all and was just horrific mood, the kind of mood that encourages negative interactions between me and my parents, like egging it on and being immature and ridiculous. I don’t think that’s autism. I think it’s well within my control but then why do I do it. I know it’s not DID but Just seems like entirely separate personality and most times I don’t even know when I’m in it till I open my big fat mouth. 

• I hate when my parents ask me how I’m going to survive in Portland or fill in the blank with whatever is relevant in the moment. Like if I say mom will you grab me a spoon since you’re standing right there, they say, “how will you get your own spoon in Portland?” It’s becoming more and more frequent. I say they are being ableist and discriminatory and they say I don’t know the words that I use, that the word is “enabling” and that they DO enable me by “waiting on me” and that I’m not self sufficient but rather dependable. I say enabling and ableism are two unrelated things but dad says I’m full of shit. I say I will care for myself how I always have and they act like they’re at a loss for any molecule of that being a qualifying answer. 

•They see my executive dysfunction the last 7 months and constantly bully me about it and I say it’s a product of neurodivergence and they say that’s a cop out and excuse. In response I have tried to actually clarify what ND is and my dad says OK OK YEAH WHATEVER KATIE ANOTHER WORD THAT ISNT REAL. And I’ve just never felt more trapped and alone and erased than I do when I’m with them. 

•So it’s very hard to get myself in a state of mind where I can take big exciting risks like moving out or to Portland or anywhere when all they make me do is wanna blend back into the couch I’m slouched into or the walls that I’m a gnat on. I no longer need to educate or convince them to change— I’m shifting beyond that. But in conversation sometimes my responses to their bullying is simply “I’m neurodivergent” not in an effort to get them to understand, but rather an effort to play an active role in the dialogue and stand up for myself (otherwise not responding just leads to worsening conditions such as my dad later commenting that I don’t listen or hear them and am not aware of my surroundings and have no sense despite the fact that inside my head I am a critical thinker and intellectual and creative who is non stop analyzing everything going on and all my plans for the future). 

•So while I no longer am trying to get them to understand where I’m coming from, I do feel I deserve to offer my response to their accusations or shaming methods or attempts to ask me something. When I set clear boundaries tho of not wanting to talk about Portland or timing of moving etc it’s bc planning it makes it feel real and makes me feel scared and uncertain, unable to give them reliable information when I myself am not even sure I can do this. But they say I’m blocking them out and not including them in the planning process bc I’m inconsiderate and selfish.

These were just scribbled out notes I made last night in bed, not well written so I apologize if they were difficult to follow.

[2centsofsilver]

8/10 Pre-Op Blessings Pt 3

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8/10 Pre-Op Blessings Pt 2

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8/10 Pre-Op Blessings Pt 1

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8/10/23 POST OP — Room after Recovery. Brett my nurse and lots of food.

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8/10 Surgery Day: Prepping Arms 45 Min Prior to Hospital thanks to Elizabeth. She prescribed Lidocaine cream & patches and taught me how to apply them to numb possible IV sites.

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8/10/23 Surgery / Hospital Bound from Holland!

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8/10/23 SURGERY DAY (Post-Prep) 1.5 Hours till OR. Dr Taylor is about to go talk to my parents after asking some of my last minute questions.

It’s about to happen! Advocating for anxiety drugs. Best doctor and nurses EVER. #tonsillectomy #adenoids #turbinatereduction

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8/9/23 Night Before Surgery

Just scored 9 baskets while a pavilion of kids ages 4-15 cheered me on 😂😂😂 Pool closes at 10. If I get my 10th by 10 that means I’ll come ou out of anesthesia tomorrow 💯

Update: 10 baskets scored by 10pm 🏀

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Nervous System Regulation 8/4/23: RAIN for GR ENT Phone Call

Recognize what's happening Allow life to be just 'as is' Investigate inner experience Non - Identification Prompt: https://melliobrien.com/r-n-four-step-process-using-mindfulness-difficult-times/ Recognize What's Happening: "Take a moment to recognize that a strong emotion is present and gently turn towards what you’re experiencing in an open and non-judgemental way.

Tune in to the direct present moment experience of what is happening in your body and mind… the emotions, the thoughts and sensations that are here.

It can be helpful to mentally name it, for example, “I am feeling stressed” or “I am feeling overwhelmed.” This recognition of what your feeling, opens up inner space and brings you into full contact with yourself and the actuality of the present moment." Emotions: Mad, upset, emotional, panicky, triggered/traumatized, pissed by injustices & receptionist's response to my inquiry/request. Riled up. Boiling. Heated. Very bad mood. Caught off guard. Scared. Fearful. Terrified. Anxious. Nervous. Worried. Having doubts. Mental Thoughts/Narratives: "Perhaps I should cancel." Questioning Fleeing. "I should cancel and just do in Portland once I have a girlfriend who can love and support me through it." "I need advocate from Elizabeth's office. I want Rachel. Where's Rachel? Where's Elizabeth? Elizabeth would be pissed. She would help me through. Hypervigilently looking around visual playing field and internal field for resources/help/love/support. Voice in head sounds young. Age: 4-7. "I should complain about her. Dr. Taylor will agree with me. He will be willing to see me. He'll get it." "He wasn't even that great a doctor. You saw red flags when you last met with him. Bedside manner doesn't fit my needs. Good with kids, not anxiety/PTSD." "Trauma is different. Trauma gets special treatment." Suddenly feel depressed, lonely, sad. Rational Part: "Who cares that girl was disrespectful, uneducated, unethical, uninformed, rude, etc. You advocated for yourself and got what you needed: a visit with your doctor. You won. You are a warrior, a fighter, and you never give up. All thanks to WomanSafeHealth / Rachel / Elizabeth. You aren't going to tolerate being treated in such a way. Sometimes while doing the actual advocating, you get anxiety and the anxiety makes you feel like everything bad is happening to you, but it's the rush of feeling threatened: "Warning, Fire, Danger" as Amy would say. As far as I'm concerned, you got what you came for. You're a badass mother fucker and badass mother fuckers are allowed to struggle, feel fragile, feel hurt, feel unworthy, and feel in need of love. But you have so much worth. So much love inside yourself to demand what you need and stand up for injustice. You take care of you. Yourself thanks you and loves you in return." Someatic Experience in Body: Horrible Nerves, Butterflies. Feel sick / stuck with a stick. Stomach dropping. Panicky: Exasperated, thirsty, tachycardia. Most unbearable is always the butterflies (the true anxiety) slightly below sternum. Feels nauseating. Temp feels warm/hot/heated. Very lethargic/hungry/sleepy. Onsight of headache in distance. Red-cheeks/face. When I feel lonely, sad, depressed, I want to be held. I just want to be held, hugged, rocked, soothed. Compression. When I feel butterflies, anxiety, nerves, fear, I just want someone to take care of me: Sooth me with words. "It's okay, you're okay, you're going to be okay." I want someone to care for me / be caring towards me. I can rest my head on them and they can love me and be nice to me. And all my worth will come back. From website: "

"Allowing means to ‘let it be as it is.’ It is the acknowledgement and acceptance of your present moment reality. Allowing doesn’t mean we have to like the situation. It means we aims to soften (or drop) our mental resistance to what is happening.

The reason this is so important is because we often have the unconscious impulse to push away, suppress or ignore difficult emotions. When we engage in an inner struggle in these ways, we unknowingly create more suffering  and tension.

In this unconscious struggle we also tend to get ‘caught up’ in our thoughts and emotions, therefore we are more likely to react rather than being able to choose a conscious response.

By allowing, we’re able to bring an inner ‘yes’ to our present moment experience. You may notice almost immediately a sense of softening and ease around the emotion." Allow Life to Just Be 'As Is'

It is completely rational, acceptable, expected, and okay to feel this way after that very stressful phonecall. Anyone would. You're ALLOWED to feel that way. This is you acknowledging that allowed space and time even though it doesn't physically or emotionally feel good. From Website: Investigate Inner Experience: "Now that you have recognized and allowed this emotion you can choose to investigate it. You may not always feel you need the “I” step as sometimes just the recognition and acceptance is enough. At other times you may feel naturally drawn to using this step.

So to investigate, you can mentally enquire with questions like “Why do I feel the way I do?” “Are there events that happened ahead of the emotion that might have influenced it?” “Are there physiological factors (Such as not getting enough sleep) that are affecting the emotion?” “What do I really need right now?” “Are there actions I could take to nurture and support myself (and/or others) in this difficult time?”

These questions can help us come into wiser relationship with emotions and thoughts. With this process of investigation we can also choose a conscious response to foster a more meaningful life. Investigation may even resolve and dissolve the emotion completely at times (although it is not the goal)."

I want to come back to these questions when I'm in a better place.

N: Non-Identification

"In the “N” step of R.A.I.N, you turn your attention to the simple realization that YOU are not your mind nor are you your emotions. You are the awareness that is always there underneath every thought, emotion and sense perception.

Non-identification means that your sense of who you are is not fused with or defined by your thoughts and emotions. This brings about a natural sense of freedom and ease. It gives a sense of having peace in the middle of it all. No matter how intense and painful the emotional storm, there is always a part of you which is still, silent and untouched.

You can use this R.A.I.N. method anytime you are feeling stressed, overwhelmed or out of touch. It’s a powerful way of homecoming in a challenging time." I want to come back to this too.

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7/6/23 4a

Super mixed up discombobulated; need Amy. Off track. Uncentered. Not sure where I am. Don’t feel like people know me or get me or are meeting me where I am. I’m gonna get there and my parents will long for me / be on their own journeys to heal from me and the wounds I caused them over my lifetime trying to defend myself. They will have to navigate life without me and get accustomed to me gone and the love will run out and then when I visit or FaceTime the love will be short and briefer for little trips & my parents will be old & look different and maybe not love me as much anymore bc they got used to me being gone like a gift in their life. They won’t talk to me about Portland it’s like a big joke that’s not even real or happening. No one will / can confront it. I am so deeply lost and will be so far away and my parents- they will just move on and fade away & I’ll still be lonely out there. What if nobody finds me. I don’t want to be in pain for the rest of my life. When I even just utter that I’m apt searching or excited about a place in Portland I discovered they just don’t even say anything they just continue whatever they are doing as if I’m a dead wall and they haven’t heard me. My mom has a strict stern look on her face, my dad just completely silent. How am I supposed to feel like this transition is real. I occasionally ask, “Are you sad about me leaving? Are you excited for me?” And dad says, “It wouldn’t matter what I think because I know that I can’t stop you; you won’t listen anyway.” How can 2 people who supposedly love me and are literally the root source of my origin act like I’m not even anything. I don’t know how to fix all the damage I have done. All the hurt I have caused. They are hurting their whole life because I was literally the worst little kid daughter & the worst grown up daughter too. I’m sorry for all the hurt that I cause. I hate knowing that my dad and mom are sad because of me, it makes my heart literally ache. I just wish I had love being sourced from somewhere else. My grandma is in heaven and I try to feel her every day and she still leaves me dimes whenever I ask. Most recently in Glen Arbor, the Homestead, on the beach when I was painting the sunset. But I don’t know why I can’t FEEL her very strongly — makes me ask myself if I’m forcing it- if I’m making it up. I can’t believe how long she’s been gone. Today I was thinking about when me & my dad had to say goodbye by her bedside. I helped my dad say, “Bye mom, love you.” My grandma’s love was the most unconditional. It was so fucking strong. I wish I could feel it. I wish that somebody loved me. I’m trying to love myself day in & out for 32 years I’ve tried to love myself. My brother thinks I’m nothing. My parents believe that I’m nothing true or real. I love my brother. He’s another person I hurt. I was the worst sister. I don’t know how to mend that. I’m sorry that my parents didn’t help me become a better sister at the age of 7, 8, 9… I missed your toddler years. The years that now as a toddler teacher I know are so precious so fleeting so pure and I can never get them back. And I can never make you respect me as a real person. I miss my Poppy in heaven. He’s been gone the longest. I wish that I could have known him into my adult years. I wish that he could have seen it all. I wish I felt his love & presence but I can’t for some reason. It’s soooooo distant. Does he remember me? Does he think I’m the worst too? I remember everything about my Jewish grandparents. They raised me. They loved me. Their love was pure. It wasn’t the kind that had to be bought through big fancy vacations and presents. Even tho I was the worst as a child my grandma still loved me so much and always still wanted to play with me and help & support & love me. She never ever turned on me or made me feel unloved or question whether I’m cared for. It was this deep rooted ancestral love that can never ever be disconnected or lost. It is so strong and so tangible like strong arteries or roots that connect the heart, connect all of what it means to grow & be alive

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5/23 Time for Wooahh Relevation Journal

Holy fucking shit. The last 11 months have just caught up with me. More like, last 2-3 years... pandemic, LA, NC3, moving to GR, ED-C, from a super zoomed out perspective. Finally able to see everything mapped out in front of me. It encompasses so much trauma, good intentions, authentic self-energy, deep widom, passion, commitment, love; ongoing cycles of feeling like I’ve been thrown around garbage dump to garbage dump just for existing in space as a flawed, hard-working individual.  Innocence is precious; cherished; fragile; vulnerable.

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5/14/23 Weekend @ Homestead

My 2am brain playing out imaginary hypothetical retrospective conversations with myself: Me to Me: "I've decided I'm moving to Grand Rapids!" Me: "You're doing WHAT?!" Me to Me: "Yeah! I've found my dream job and I'll be closer to the lake again, so I really feel this is the best decision for me." Me: ".........................................." Me to Me: "?????????" Me: "..........................................You're joking." Me to Me: "No, stop. This is great. Trust me. I have given this tremendous thought from my Wisest Mind and have many Wise People helping me." Me: "I don't doubt all that. And I'm sure from a career perspective, it probably is the best decision, but like, Katie............................" Me to Me: "WHAT." Me: "Your trajectory?" Me to Me: "Trajectories are garbage. Social constructs." Me: "Yeah, but................" Me to Me: "Just let me be." Me: "It's WEST MICHIGAN." Me to Me: *Applies Noise Cancelling Headphones* Present-Day Me has a lot to say about this. All the best things about GR were related to career, as anticipated. But deeply there was something fundamentally lacking. Did I come to GR with lower-case wisdom or Self Wisdom? In IFS, there are Disguised 'Selves.' Imposter Syndrome is BLATENT. Never would have gone missed. In IFS, there is a fine distinguishing line between Imposter Syndrome and Imposter Wisdom. This isn't, never was, & never will be imposter syndrome. They're Disguised Selves; and they present nearly identically to Wise Selves. Disguised Selves are really just Blended Parts. 

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5/7 in progress entry

Some may think my PDX move is rash, especially since I only moved to GR 1 year ago. But there's so much more beneath the surface that goes into a decision than meets the eye. I've been dreaming of Portland, Oregon since I was a teenager applying to undergrad colleges and learning about Lewis & Clark. When I saw photos of the mountains and luscious GREEN Pacific coastal Northwest, I developed a vision I could only dream about. My life wasn't finished yet in Michigan and I had more to discover first about myself. Indecisive Katie became my M.O. for the next decade plus. When you have so many interests and passions for things, it's hard to narrow down your life and your career. For years I hopped around, college to college, major to major, mental health leave to mental health leave, apartment to apartment, city to city, job to job. Oftentimes I was that carefree, bohemian artist who had declared an Art major at K College & Western. Sometimes I was reciting poetry in advanced poetry workshops and meeting with professors to figure out how to get a memoir published. At times I researched career qualifications for photojournalism, page design, copy editing, and feature writing for fashion magazines, National Geographic, filmmaking, and even just local newspapers. For many years I was the  comfortable English / Creative Writing major, taking ceramics every chance I got at all my community art centers and photographing nature in my spare time or journaling on the beach. I always had a side curiosity in Social Sciences. I started going to therapy when I was 14 so naturally psychology deeply resonated with me. At K College, amidst a major mental health crisis, I fell in love with Developmental (Child) Psychology, changed majors to Psych, and then withdrew from the college. I lived back home with my parents for several months and healed/recovered well. When I transferred to Western, I hopped around, double majoring in humanities and psychology, at one point sociology, and then declared an art minor. I started working with kids K-5 for a local public school system. By 2014 I was ready to be done with my Bachelor's and not having a good time in psychology. Western's psych program was Behaviorist which introduced a lifelong opposition for Behavioral Science / ABA where I felt deeply distraught with misaligned morals, values, and ethics in the field. No one around me shared concerns, so I hopped around, often feeling imposterous,

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The Coolest Thing About Moving Across the Country Solo is...

You get to bring your whole Self with you, so it won’t be scary. Everything you’ve always known and loved comes with you. Your view of the world, your ancestry, your complex traumas, the care in which you treat others, the love for yourself, the deep, fierce courageous respect and commitment to never giving up on yourself comes with. All the love you have for others and the love others have for you comes with. Lilah comes with. Your passion for literacy and expression comes with. Your dreams, joys, memories, and wishes come with. You don’t have to worry about being someone else or bringing someone else as you and surviving as her because your whole you, your whole authentic self comes with. 5/7/23

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11/19/22 ~ 1st Session with Pro Domme

I pulled into the parking lot in the back of the warehouse and found the green awning with little difficulty, thanks to her video guide. I was already 10 minutes late, so I didn’t have time to sit and collect myself. I opened my car door, grabbed my purse, and hopped out of my car into the snow. There were several concrete snow-covered steps leading up to the green door. I held onto the handrail, trying not to slip, as my heart pounded. “What if the door is locked?” I thought to myself. I turned the knob and opened the door. The floor was wooden and old. To my immediate left was a long steep staircase, dark and full of cobwebs. I peered upwards and thought to myself, “I’ve never seen a taller set of stairs.” Slowly and carefully, I began climbing the staircase, dragging myself along the railing and becoming out of breath. When I reached the top, I felt sick. “Is it nerves? Or leftover enema water?” I felt like I was going to throw up. Briefly stopping to catch my breath, I scrolled the instructions in her email. “Turn right, walk through the open doorway, turn right again...” I read to myself. “That open doorway? Is that a doorway?” I closed my eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and proceeded through it. I came to a long, long hallway and glanced down either direction. I felt like I was in U of M’s art school’s ceramics wing where the ceramics studio was. To be honest, nothing felt as creepy or sketchy as how she described it. I had been in places like this before... Art Hops in Kzoo, aniique stores in the warehouse district, art studios... they’re all the same.  I walked down the wide hallway to my right. Walls were green with silouettes painted on them. “Red door on the right.... red door on the right...” There were multiple red, unlabeled doors. She called them artisan studios. I stopped in front of a large red door on my right, staring at it for several seconds. I turned to my left when I heard and saw movement at the end of the hall. A man was standing down there, around the corner, but I could see him standing right behind the corner. Why did it feel like he was hiding? I knocked on the red door 3 times. Footsteps approached, and suddenly the red door creaked open, slowly...very, very slowly. My eyes darted around a royal interior of sex dungeon furniture catching a quick flicker of the gynecological table. The studio was in full view and it was breathtaking; magical; beautiful. But where was she? I stood silently for a moment and then her green hair peeked out from behind the large door. “Hello Katie,” she said with a devious smile. “Hi,” I said softly.

She welcomed me in and from that point forward, rarely lost eye contact unless leading me to an area of the dungeon or leaving me briefly to retrieve a tool. Immediately, I began chattering away, apologizing for my lateness and asking whether she saw my latest email. “Yes,” she responded and was very supportive, accepting, forgiving, and kind.  I felt raw and vulnerable; I hadn’t the time to finalize my appearance as all hell had broken loose in the days and hours leading up to the session. My face was entirely make-up free; my hair was pulled into a tangled pony tail, unbrushed; my cheeks were flushed as usual. I arrived starving; hadn’t consumed food yet that day with low blood sugar. I had just administered four bulb enemas less than 15 minutes prior to leaving my apartment. As a thick bitch, I hadn’t been able to properly administer them and they had leaked all over my bed, the bathroom floor, and in my brand new sparkly panties on my walk to the car. A heavy 27″ snow storm and depression from the fall out with my former Domme had prevented me from arriving on time, prepared, and appearing in such a way that adequately expressed who I was. She had reassured me during the week prior she’d run into many vulnerabilities in the dungeon and not to worry if I encountered an “Oops”during clean-out. I wasn’t able to insert the nozzle while sittong on the toilet, wasn’t able to prop my leg up on a stool while standing in the shower, and wasn’t able to squeeze the bulb of water into my rectum while laying on my right side without all the water leaking onto my bed. That said, I followed the instructions she provided in email and through a helpful infographic. I’d had professional colonics in the past and administered many comprehensive sigmoid enemas to myself in the bathtub for many years. My former Domme filmed content heavy in enema-play and I’d been reading about them since my teenage years on Literotica. If I knew one thing it was simply, never rush an enema; always give yourself plenty of time. I hadn’t. I’d arrived with a stomachache and nausea, as well as what I could only imagine was leftover water in my colon. She was warm and accepting as she led me over to a beautiful set of velvet Victorian couches. She encouraged me to go ahead and remove my snow boots and coat and get comfortable. She sat on the adjacent couch and said we would review my kinks, boundaries, and any concerns before getting started. She withdrew her notebook and mentioned not having access to our emails listing additional boundaries and medical issues from outside our Zoom negotiation last week. I of course blanked on most of my kinks and boundaries and she understood, reminding me, “This is just a Tuesday for me, whereas this is one of the first times you’ve been asked to recall very sensitive information to someone in person.” She was right. We recalled from notes and memories a few of my kinks and boundaries... Kinks: -Medical Play -Needles -Anal Penetration Boundaries: -No Bondage -Gentle Vaginal Penetration -No Standing or Kneeling -No Visible Marks -No Electroplay I reminded her of my medical conditions -- Lipedema and POTS, poor circulation in the legs, unable to kneel, unable to stand for prolonged periods. TMJ -- unable to open mouth all the way, Vaginusmus --- unable to tolerate moderate vaginal penetration... She asked if she could retrieve my emails on her phone and I said yes. I also offered to provide my full kink/boundary list on my phone and she said yes. She compared her notes and jotted down additional reminders to herself. We scanned the lists and discussed all areas of concern. She mentioned having many of the tools necessary for my kinks at home and that she would bring them next time.  She said the gynecological table was stocked with needles all ready to go, but again, said she needed a second person -- a nurse who travels to the area to administer needle play to willing subs. We talked about anal training and my desire for enormous anal insertions and stretching. She mentioned a speculum she could use to stretch me open today. She asked for clarification that I indeed loved ice cold medical instruments -- affirmative. And I complimented the cold temperature of the dungeon, laughing that I run warm. She was pleased! I asked about urethral play and she again mentioned I’m the first female to ever express an interest in sounding; that she regularly sounds cis men. Her female sounding kit was at home and she said we should wait until a future date to stretch my pee hole or insert objects into it; “It can be a lot,” she said. Believe me, I knew.  I asked whether anything in the dungeon might mimic needle play. “That’s a really great question,” she said. “I do have a Wartenberg wheel I’ll be using on you today that will feel very prickly. Usually when people request a deep, concentrated pain or sensation, I suggest my violet wand, but you have electroplay as one of your limits.” I began to think. “Well, I’m very curious about it. I know I want to try in the future, just not today.” She reiterated that she wasn’t suggesting we try or push any of my limits. “We won’t be doing any electroplay, we won’t be pushing any of your limits.” I appreciated this.  But I continued to wonder, “Does it have a low setting?” I asked curiously. “Oh, yeah!” she said. “Absolutely! I always start low on new clients. The lowest setting produces a light tickle and as we increase, the sensation feels deeper and more concentrated, sort of like getting a tattoo.” “I don’t have any tattoos, so I don’t know,” I trailed off. “The violet wand is usually what I recommend to clients who enjoy that deep, sharp, needle-like pain,” she said. “I’ll keep thinking about it,” I said. She assured me there was no pressure to ever reconsider my boundaries. After talking and going over our negotiations (interests, boundaries, and limits), she asked, “Are you ready to get started?” I smiled and nodded, “Yeah,” I said. She smiled back at me genuinely. “Great,” she said, standing up. “So first what I have clients do is strip down” -- she looked my body up and down when she said this “to your comfort level and fold your clothes neatly on the couch.” “Ok,” I said. I instantly stood up. I pulled my black mesh hooded tunic over my shoulders first, turned it right-side-out, and attempted to fold it with fumbly hands. “I can’t promise perfection with this folding element of the assignment,” I said with a grin. She laughed. “I’m not the best at folding my laundry...” I continued. “You might have to punish me,” I said, gently laying a non-folded shirt on the velvet couch. “Hey,” she said. “I thought we weren’t doing that today...” I smiled and laughed a little, then began pulling down the waistband of my black velvet leggings. “I have shorts underneath these,” I said. She nodded, watching my every move. “Is that bra from Lane Bryant?” she asked. “Yeah! I just got it,” I said. “I like it!” she said. It was black lace and purple with a gold clasp between my tits. “Ooooh, those are cute,” she said, eyeing my silver sparkly leopard shorts, silky and sexy. “Are those from Lane Bryant too?” “Yes,” I said. I carefully folded my pants on the couch. I took off my socks and put them in my purse, then neatly laid my purple coat on the adjacent velvet couch. “There was a matching top with the shorts, but it was really short, so I left it at home...I could put the shirt back on...I’m not sure... ?” I posed. She thought for a moment. “No, I think you look great just how you are,” she said. “Really?” I asked. “Really!” she said, genuinely. I was in my bra and the lacey shorts with sexy panties on underneath. “I think you look beautiful,” she said. I smiled and felt really good. “Okay,” I agreed.  “If you’d like we can make our way over to the bed and engage in some light touching and sitting close?” “Ok,” I said smiling and nodding. I was very quiet and soft-spoken. “Does that sound good?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m ready.” “Great!” she said, smiling and holding my eye contact. She began leading the way across the dungeon. “Please watch your step and be careful not to bump the radiator,” she said gesturing ahead. “Ok,” I said, taking a step down and walking past the heating unit.  “So here’s the bed and we have all sorts of various foam pillows... all different shapes and sizes that you can choose from and get comfortable however you’d like,” said Ace. “Okay,” I said nervously, looking at all of the pillows. “I’m not really sure which is best...” I said, feeling sort of frozen. “Would you like to take a seat for now?” “Okay,” I said and kerplunked down at the foot of the bed with Ace by my side, taking a seat. She asked if I was comfortable and I confirmed I was. “Would you like me to begin touching you softly?” “Yes,” I said.  Ace shuffled behind me on the bed on her knees and kneeled close. Softly, so softly, she began touching my upper back, back of my neck, shoulders, down my arms and back to my back, like a gentle, soft, sensual massage. Instantly, I melted, closed my eyes, and drifted into a deeply relaxed state. I said to myself, “This is what I’ve been craving.” Head bowed, I smiled. “How does this feel?” she asked. “Amazing,” I said. “Let me know when you’re ready for more intensity...” she said. “Okay,” I softly replied. I kept my eyes closed and, almost inaudibly, moaned. Inside my head, I didn’t want this soft gentle touch to end. I’d waited for years for this, so I decided to try not to feel any pressure and I sat and enjoyed it for a few minutes longer. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’m ready for more.” “You’re ready for more?” Ace asked. “Yeah,” I nodded.

[2centsofsilver]

10/18/22

I’m learning that I might not be able to control (increase) my parents’ love for me. They are becoming elderly soon (my biggest life fear since I was a little girl) and it almost seems like their perceptions about me and what they hope for me in life are decaying. Apparently I don’t live exactly how my mom or my dad would live. How I do things are differently. I have always known that. I am my own person existing in this world. I am not them, nor they, me.  I always hoped we would have an amazing relationship when we’re all older. Me, my brother, my mom and dad. But I’m learning I might not be able to change things or get them to see how their words and behaviors affect me as their adult daughter. My brother will always be their most prized possession and I will always be the one they wish they would have done things differently with. They don’t resent me, but they resent the way they raised me and who I became. They don’t see me for who I am and they aren’t proud of the person I became.  I am 31, my brother just turned 24. My parents are something like 66 and 67. My kitty cat Lilah is 11 now and our Sunshine is long gone as of 7 years ago. Grandma and Poppy are gone and they were the light of our world. They were what made our lives.... lively. If there’s 1 state I cannot, moment-to-moment fathom, it’s the feeling of being ‘unloved.’ This of course manifests in many other micro-states for different circumstances. (i.e., feeling unseen/unheard, undervalued, unaccepted, “weird,” ostracized/oppressed, limited, too much excess, or not small enough). I have been trying to seek replacement love, value, and acceptance in D/s relationships with SW’s since the pandemic began. It has been challenging, but I am learning a lot about myselves. I have made a few mistakes, but I am learning how to make things better. No body can help me become who I’m striving towards, so I have to do it alone. 10:40pm, GR.