exquisit-corpse-blog

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What do you do when tattoos and cutting don't hurt anymore? What happens when you're so hurt and numb pain does nothing? I just want it to stop.

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I've died every day since that breakup... I just want the pain to stop.

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I wish I could stay in my dreams forever because, in them, I'm with you. We're together, nothing's changed... I'm still afraid of you, still dealing with everything from that relationship... But fuck... At least I still have you.. At least I can still touch you. You can't know how much I fucking miss you... How every day since we stopped speaking, I've died. If I could go back and change things, I would. I'd go back, stifle myself... Suffer... Because life had purpose with you... Now nothing.

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Pumpkin soup for 700 cals a pot!!

Pumpkin soup for under 700 calories for an entire pot! Lol just made it up 😊 1-can pumpkin (175) 1 sm chicken breast (204) 1-zucchini (33) 1-yellow squash (20) 1 cup baby carrots (25) 1/4 onion (25) 1 serving natural applesauce (50) 1 chicken bullion prepared with water(15) 1 cup 35 calorie vanilla almond milk(35) 1 tbs country crock light butter(30) 2 tbs sugar free syrup (30) Salt, pepper, and cinnamon to taste Pretty much just boil chicken first. Cut up veggies and boil in chicken broth. Dice onion and brown in butter, put in broth when done. Add almond milk, applesauce, pumpkin, seasonings, and syrup. Simmer for 15 mins.

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Twisted Cinderella Story 2017

She woke up. One kiss, a twisted sleeping beauty story. Dead heart still beating. Dead body still moving. Dead, dead, dead girl walking. Little corpse-girl living, if you can call it living. "Don't touch me, I might wake up" ...but he did... One kiss. One hand squeezed around a delicate throat and she slowly started coming out of the haze. That fucking psycho with intense blue eyes.

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At First

CW: abuse/suicide/general fucked upness

Ron went after women who had mental health issues... Kat was more than happy to play her own role in the abuse. His favorite “fetish” is Stockholm Syndrome...keep that in mind

At first they were wonderful, texting most every day, all day. Telling me I was beautiful, that I deserved to be happy. I felt welcomed, cared for, wanted.

Ron would tell me how impressed he was with things I did for him. That I was the “first” to do things or get them right so quickly...I beamed every time he told me that...I was useful. Ron and I had a deep connection of the darker parts of humanity... And ridiculous chemistry. No one had or has ever made me feel the way he did. The acceptance of his own demons set me on the path to succumbing to my own. 

I asked him to call me “meat”...it turned me on to be so completely objectified and dehumanized in our BDSM interactions like that. It became an endearing pet name. At some point, my birth name began to sound foreign coming from his lips. I was “meat”, his little snuffslut...but also his “raven-haired girl”...the very embodiment of his fantasies. “No one” could understand him like I did. I was “the first” who he found that was into the same or similar things...He’d “never” met anyone so ready and willing to die for his pleasure, who truly knew her place...it was my biggest fantasy. 

He was possessive...which I found to be sexy and flattering at the time. No one had ever claimed me so completely as he did. No one has ever subdued me like that...I was willing to sacrifice anything for him.

When we first started our relationship, they had concerns about my still being a part of my Leather Family...so I resigned my position as Co-Founder. There were other reasons that had me thinking but that’s for another time...The relationship with Ron and Kat was ultimately the deciding factor. Not long after my resignation did they start to plant the seeds that no one in the Community would want me if we ever broke up. They used my fear of losing my social standing, my Community, my Family ties, friends...my home, against me to keep me in line.

It was after I cut all close ties that the abuse really went into full swing. Kat started out by becoming chummy with the girl my former Master cheated on me with and lied to my face about...she would tell me they never fought this much until I came around. (a lie, come to find) She would tell me to do things she knew Ron would be angry about.-like adopting Zach. She told me how much she hated me when she first met me...and that they only had sex when I was around. (another lie) I shied away from sex, and wouldn’t touch him sexually unless she was there because I was terrified of making her feel bad. 

...but during this time they taught me how to row a raft, we laughed all day on the river...we had dinners, went to the movies, held hands and kissed. I loved cuddling with them and missed her dearly when she couldn’t be there. (Something she adamantly said was unfair even though they saw each other almost daily.)

He hurt me like I needed to be hurt and, for a long time, was the perfect balance of sadistic and loving. He made me laugh and I felt so safe and comforted in his arms. The abuse was so subtlety injected into the relationship that I didn’t notice. Over time there were fewer compliments and more demands. the glow of my achievements were short-lived. Sometimes, I didn’t even get a “thank you”. Instead of realizing what they were doing to me, I asked myself “What more could I do, how can I fix myself to me better?” I drove myself to insanity at times trying to figure out how to be perfect for him...but it was never enough.

One night I fucked up...got drunk with a friend and former lover...after telling him the problems with Kat...he kissed me and I didn’t stop what was happening. Kat broke up with me, Ron didn’t. We broke up for maybe a couple days...he was angry that I didn’t fight harder for him to not break up with me...but I couldn’t. I was a cheating POS who didn’t deserve a second chance...but he gave it to me anyway...and used my guilt to his advantage. 

I couldn’t tell anyone he denied me safewords/signals though we never negotiated that. I couldn’t be anything but happy and perfect around “our” friends because Kat took the first chance she had and told everyone about my fuckup. I was undeniably in a spot where I could lose everything I worked for...that’s when the hangings, the threats to kick chairs out from under me with a noose around my neck came full swing...But he wasn’t in the wrong because I didn’t say “red”...funny thing is that you can’t talk when you can’t breathe. My safe signals were ignored, one such time was accompanied by threats...but every time he did that to me he would either say how disappointed he was, or that I was such a good piece of meat for him. By that time I needed his approval more than I needed food...I starved myself for him. He encouraged me to lose more and more weight...because being skinny so skinny was sexy. But he cuddled me, let me negotiate things (always to his advantage) and told me how I would make a fuckable corpse...so he couldn’t be abusing me.

Any time I started to talk about how the relationship was unfair he would reassure me that he loved me, needed me, that I filled a need no one else could.” ...and just being near him made me feel like everything was ok. I was safe, loved. Even when he was terrifying me by throwing a plastic bag over my head by surprise and leaving me mentally scarred...He was the Boss...he knew best, what I could take. Besides, I was barely human. Just a piece of meat for his amusement. I was expendable, disposable, worthless...

...But he treated me so well...we got concretes and told jokes. We held hands, went on dates, he satisfied me in bed...but also used that time to tell me all the things I wasn’t doing right and pulling promises from me with every orgasm. He let me bleed on his sheets after hacking or sawing into me and cuddled me on my period. He kissed me...He accepted even my darkest secrets...he helped me get sober.

There’s a  a Halsey song...

“Hold me down, hold me down Throw me in the deep end, watch me drown Knock me out, knock me out Saying that I want more, this is what I live for “

That last line I’ve heard from his lips in many variations...I asked for this, I could make it stop. My only reason for living is because he hasn’t killed me yet. He showed me many times that he’s capable of killing, brought me to the edge and back... He terrified me, hurt me in ways I didn’t consent to...but it was just a fetish. He just got too excited, caught up in it. Forgot to give me something to safesignal with when he’d start hanging or strangling me. He was a good man, he gave me aftercare and allowed me to sleep naked next to him...he told me he loved me and squeezed me tight. There’s no way any of that could have been abuse if he’s so sweet to me in those few moments. I could leave if he was abusing me...but he wasn’t. It was just my mind playing tricks on me and being crazy! (Sound familiar?)

During this I started on the career path I wanted...which was all well and good until I found a support network with members of my former Leather House. I wanted anther relationship to meet my needs that he couldn’t because he had a primary and I had no one but him. He began to withdraw attention more and tell me how I had even less time for him. The thing about abusers is that they don’t want you to have a support network, people who might see through the abuse. That was what ultimately lead to our breakup.

The truth about abuse is that it doesn’t start out violent or cruel, it slowly develops into that. You hear or they do something and you brush it off, you must’ve misinterpreted it. Their denial of affection? Must be having a rough day. You love and care for them so you want to give them the benefit of the doubt...it’s so subtle and slow that you don’t see it’s abuse even after its “suppose” to be glaringly obvious...because it’s not *always* bad. At a certain point you cling to the hope that it’s just a rough patch and you’ll get through it. For short instances, things are better, but they go right back to being bad again, much of the time it’s worse after the breaks. 

There’s the fear of being alone, being alienated by peers..the fear of failure...so you hope and lie to yourself subconsciously that it’s just another rough patch. That the stress of everyday life is to blame or that you yourself did something wrong.

Abuse is a cycle. 

People like me who have a skewed perception of love due to past abuse have an even harder time differentiating between the two. Due to a history of abuse and needing more extreme forms of BDSM play, I couldn’t see it...Also, I didn’t want to believe that someone who made me so happy and safe and loved could be capable of hurting me like that.

..but most all victims blame themselves for either not being “good enough” or not catching it early on, before suffering trauma that will remain with them for life...also, wondering what it makes them to have been able to love a monster so much.

Were he the Devil I would’ve surrendered my soul in an instant...sometimes I feel that I did..because he was *my* Devil, *my* Monster...in the end I still can’t help but love him.,,but that doesn’t mean I was not a victim of abuse,

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My post from a year ago about my abusive ex.

This writing encompasses the fucked up nature of my relationship with Ron and Kat and I don't even know what warnings to put here. These two people lie, manipulate, and bully to get what they want and they are now respected munch leaders with better access to new, inexperienced kinksters.

We began at the end of my nightmare with Wolf. They seemed safe and wonderful to me after the shit I'd been through. They listened, cared, validated my anger and hurt from years passed, told me I deserved to be happy and were so grateful to have me in their lives... but that didn't last very long...

"You're the reason we're fighting so much now"/ "we didn't fight this much before and it's your fault" "I hated you when I first met you" "I should just break up with him and let you two be happy"/"maybe I should just get a boyfriend too" "It's always about you" "We never have sex anymore, only with you"/"we didn't have sex for months before you"

These are just a few of the hurtful things Kat told me. I overlooked them though I was warned early on by a, then, close friend that she was insanely jealous. I didn't want to believe that. Perhaps it was due to the conversations where he's told me he couldn't ever be happy with just her. She can't satisfy important needs and kinks he has. Things I could, because I really wanted to die. I wasn't afraid of the guillotine, the whacks with the machete or axe. I barely struggled against being strangled at first... I just wanted my pain to disappear. He would tell me how much that turned him on, that I wanted to die.

There came a point where I was no longer comfortable with it being all three of us together at once. He would choke me out constantly and the last thing I'd see a lot of times before going out was her angry face. (He did it so many times that now I freak out when it happens. Which sucks because I use to love doing it. ) It was awkward. l was wary of any amount of attention Ron gave me around her even though she and I spent far more alone time together than I did with him. He had even told her to get use to the fact that I'd be the "new and shiny" for a long time. I stopped having our threesomes -which in the beginning I looked forward to-because I didn't want to hear yet again about the problems of thier sex life, that I was the only reason they had one. I didn't want the breakup lines or to be told it was my fault they fight. I didn't want the guilt-trip, looks, or passive -aggressive comments. She'd tell me how Ron blamed her for failed past relationships then talk crap to me about them and current/former play partners. Even my first sexual experience with them included her going off because Ron wasn't jumping in the shower fast enough...I told him he was being a dumb guy after she angrily left. There was a time early on when Ron wanted to mess around after she left instead of going ahead and doing it, l asked if she was ok with that and we didn't because I didn't know.... even though I wanted him so freaking bad. She claimed he started dating me while she was away one a trip and he just sprung it on her one day. I didn't know what to do or say, l just let her vent and get it out, accepted the blame she put on me until enough was enough.

There were more messed up events...I wanted a dog, Ron told me I didn't have time for one, etc. Kat encouraged me to get one, knowing it could cause issues between him and I. She told me at one point that she didn't say I couldn't sleep with other women when I was staying with an ex gf and reassured both of them it was a platonic visit... funny enough, she told me not to when discussing relationship boundaries in the beginning. Being completely confused as to why she changed her mind on that I texted Ron asking him... She went off on how she couldn't be in a relationship where I went behind her back... I went off on her and finally told Ron all the times she told me she wanted to leave him along with other things said in confidence because it wasn't right of her to put that on me. I tried from the beginning to be understanding, patient, a good listener and reassuring that I wanted them both. I was done taking her blame for thier relationship issues. I told them that and to fix it, that I'd support whatever it is they needed to do... they never did anything to even try, to my knowledge.

The first night I was going to spend with Ron alone, after an event, and she wasn't...well, she threw a hissy fit during the event over not getting her cuffs put back in when she was ready for it. He was in the middle of a conversation. The next she day cried about how no one loved or cared about her. I got to spend my first night alone with him feeling bad and not being able to enjoy that time and missing her, worrying of she was ok...feeling guilty. She said she didn't want anything to change between her and Ron, mostly thier schedule and time together... funny, that's what relationships do over time, especially poly ones. Most of the time felt like the third wheel, an inconvenience, a variable that could easily be dropped.

These and other events lead me to confide in another friend... talking that lead to eventually going to his house one night, drinking, venting... and then cheating. When I was at my lowest, she told me "you have nothing to offer" ...a short time later she broke up with me, an action Ron claimed to know nothing about. I never got to say my peice about that indecent, only take all of the blame for my actions. Only a small handful gave a crap about my feelings and what lead up to those events. I may have hurt them with that but she was hurting me long before I messed up... and more after. His dream of a triad didn't work out. She's then, all of a sudden, "straight" ... I'm left wondering if her "attraction" to me was just an act for him. It makes me absolutely feel lied to in that aspect. I feel like I got invited into a shitstorm relationship full of insecurities, resentment, and manipulation.

She's said some not - so - nice things about people who consider her a friend as well. I won't go into who it is it what was said because I doubt it would matter at this point. She's always the victim, claims that Ron controls all of her choices (a lie) , and fakes sincerity well. I've come to learn part of thier game is to make others feel indebted to them. It's easier to get what you want when someone feels like they owe you something.

My experience with Ron gets much more messed up from here... Had he told me from the beginning that I had to live by rules they created when with someone else , I would've gotten out before getting too attached. I only found that out about that while we were slowly breaking up. Had he told me I would only ever get one night a week (sometimes none) with no chance of even hanging out besides events, I would've bailed... but I believed that maybe there could've been more. His version of "cut and dry" was "a lot of things have to happen before", I clung to that hope... however, things were never really going to change, I was just being drug along. Nothing was enough, good enough. There ended up being more criticism than praise from him. I have also been told by his play partner that he would use me to make her feel bad about herself, to get her to do things for him. He did the same with me... telling me how others including her and Kat had hung for him. How happy it'd made him to watch me dangling from the end of a noose. I felt horrible all of the times I failed to do so and backed out... so I told him I wouldn't red out that time did it. I cried, turned numb and dropped for a couple days after that... He didn't really seem to care... so I wanted to do it again and be better at it for him. The kicker? I promised him that or splitting the back of my neck open with his axe with no redding out in exchange to have a normal, kinda nilla night with him. The only thing I truly couldn't do was let him suffocate me with a bag over my head, I felt like a disappointment that I couldn't. I still feel the fear and panic when thinking about that. I felt like a disappointment and not good enough to be unable to do these things. Like when I had to red out of the guillotine because it was crushing my throat too much or biting his dick because he suffocated me too long with it. Ron says he likes to find the line and push it, he doesn't say which one. The time he used a whip on me and brought me back to the horrible feelings with W (he knew it might do that to me) then knelt me over the block after our scene and hit my neck hard with the axe... I threw the block... He told me to kneel over it again, I was afraid and felt bad for freaking out so I went over it again... the second time I got out of my cuffs and threw it again. That night I flipped out on him the worst I had to anyone in a long time. I felt horrible for throwing them, for freaking out...i felt betrayed and hurt when he said he figured that using a whip on me might do something like that.

One night he had me choose between humiliation or something worse so I ate out of a dirty dog bowl with my puppy... He took pictures and told me not to share them except for one person. That was the same night he sent me naked into the woods during 25° weather.

He expected me to put in far more than he was willing to give himself... daily and weekly expectations that are ridiculous from someone I got to see so little out of. He expected a series of pictures daily of me either pretending to cut my head off or strangle myself, he expected videos of me doing so, he expected me to Photoshop pics of decapitation scenes for him and gave me pics of his other play partners without thier consent, including one who killed herself. He wanted me to make up stories about killing women in the community via decapitation... some of you reading this were a part of those stories he got off to. He demanded that I get others to wear jumpsuits and do pictures for him, even if I had to lie to them to make it happen. Yes, he wanted me to lie and manipulate others to get what he wanted... and I did it, kind of. When I worked in clubs he wanted me to manipulate dancers into it too. I told him I didn't want to be around drunk, drugged up girls because of my past issues with both but he didn't care, just kept pushing for what he wanted from me. Even made up ways for me to manipulate them. (Kat has done this for him, too... and she'll "happily" keep manipulating and grooming girls for him.) Every time I visited him was a long process in itself. Most of the time I'd clean his house the next day. It depressed me to be in his house, I cried almost every time and left feeling worse than when I'd arrived...but I kept going back because I needed to.

He told me when I wasn't doing enough. He reminded me of how I was suppose to manipulate girls into wearing jumpsuits/buns and take pics of them for him while fucking me, told me he wouldn't fuck me anymore if I didn't get it or other things done for him...but not that I wasn't ever going to be anything more. After messing up he'd tell me during sex how the next time the three of us did pics I should be good and still and let Kat hurt me, kill me, because I deserved it for what I did.

Even after telling him my fears of being so easily dumped and the months of telling him my resentment was getting worse and how I wasn't getting my needs met in our relationship. Even something small I told him I wanted like being told I'm pretty, he didn't want to do... he told me that's something I would never hear from him. That hurt too, a lot. I questioned my importance, the validity of our relationship to him. He always said I was but l argue now that l was only wanted when our relationship required minimal effort on his part. He only "loved" me when I was catering to his fantasies, it seems.

He neglected to tell me that the majority of his actions are about catering to Kat's jealousy. He didn't want to even hear about the problems l had with her... He told me she's not like that. That he won't put up with me saying things like that instead of actually addressing them. He did that a lot, along with talking about how good her job is and how she'll be making more with the next one. Commented on how my new job won’t be making that much money.

I should've let myself see it from the occasions like the night he took the springs out in the guillotine for me... He didn't even tell her he took them out and she played around in it one day when he was gone. He didn't tell her why he took them out either. Once I felt like I was in trouble for posting a picture of a bloody hatchet he used on me...I always got to feel bad about sharing any experience I thought was awesome even though he told me I was free to. He never wanted to hear about Kat's shortcomings or behavior..."she doesn't think like that" says the man who bragged about her skill to manipulate people. There were more "don't let her know" events that I won't get into. Secrets that he said he never told her.

I talked recently to a former play partner of his who got in contact with me. He lied to her about when he was purposefully ignoring her, told her he was "busy" while telling me he was angry with her. We both were posting "chop pics" on a different site for him. I did it of my own accord, but he manipulated her into it. She told me he told her she was banned from a certain House party... He told me she was too embarassed to go back to them. Let me make it clear, when I was part of that group, we DID NOT ban her! He lied to her to keep her away. She also was sent pictures of former play partners without thier consent. He convinced me this girl was crazy and prone to going off the deep end. I believed it ... about her and other partners he's had. He didn't tell me about what he did them. He didn't tell me he used me to make her feel bad about herself when she was at a low point. She didn't deserve what he did to her.

One night he jokingly stated that I'd be screwed if we broke up with my track record...That's ok, it just means I don't have much to lose by posting this or anything else regarding past relationships now.

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(3)

Fast forward. Mom is remarried to Mr.Bob. We lived in a nice neighborhood and I was almost 13.

This is the age I discovered BDSM due to an HBO Real sex episode. This discovery lead me to chat rooms, and eventually meeting a "Dom" a couple years later... But we'll get to that soon enough.

My older sister brought in her own handsy boyfriend who tickled, pinched, and made inappropriate comments about my slowly developing body... But that was nothing compared to what was to come.

Things were hard from 13-15 but nothing horrible happened. It was shortly after I turned 15 that things really went to shit.

Not too long after I turned 15 did I meet a man more than twice my age from a chat room. A so-called "Dom" by the name of Alex. He was nothing more than a pedophile who went after young teenage girls. He never respected my safeword and punished me for using it. He claimed my virginity and said he'd wait until I was 18 to have sex but that didn't stop him from using sex toys.

A couple months later I met Mike, a 22 y/o abusive douche who used his cop brother as a threat for if I ever told anyone.

Between the two of them I couldn't dress out for gym because of the bruises... But I wanted it, I wanted them to hurt me because it felt good... Because it made things better for a little while. Because physical pain lessened the emotional ones.

For a while my virginity remained intact, until the day Mike decided that oral wasn't enough for him and told me that I had to give him anal if I wanted to keep my virginity. I skipped school and waited for everyone to leave the  for the day before letting him into the house.

I remember standing in the shower and screaming because of how badly it hurt when he tried to force it. I was shaking and had to go lay down. He came into my room and began to give me oral and I thought it was going to be just like any other time. That is, until I was being pinned down and crushed under him. That's when I felt it and the tears started, I kept saying "no" telling him to stop..."it'll only hurt for a little while"...those words have been branded into my mind. First he said it didn't count because he didn't ejaculate in me, then said if I didn't see him again and told anyone his brother would hide my body.

That day was the first time I felt everything in me die. I fucked the first guy I found while chugging a bottle of Skol vodka then called Mike later that night as he instructed. Whether it was that night or a couple days later I don't remember but he told me what to wear and where he'd pick me up, giving me a reminder of what would happen if I didn't.

That night was degrading and I use to lie about it, saying I fought and got away but I didn't...The clearest things I remember are being unable to breath, the paralyzing pain from being sodomized, begging, pleading for him to stop, and being told that I had better not wake anyone or call for help.... It felt like it would never end and when it did I did nothing. He cleaned his semen off my face, dressed me, dropped me of at home and told me to shower immediately. This went on for a couple more months until he moved.

Alex was still in the picture, I needed the pain more than ever and would fall into a space so deep I didn't know what was going on. He found out about the rape...but he didn't care that I was raped, only that I was no longer a virgin. Since my virginity was no longer intact, I was now fair game so he decided to "give me what I needed". The entire time I didn't move or make a sound, I was gone. I was gone every time I was used. He would pose me and take pictures he’d send to his friends. He brought me to my first dungeon and let a couple of his friends beat me. One of them couldn't because I looked like a child, that was the only relief I got from that night. I was told I was nothing but meat to be used... And that was what I wanted, to be treated like the nothing I believed I was.

Soon I met Chris, my ex husband and he was the first man to ever treat me like a person, I clung to him. He made me feel again.

In between being raped the first time and getting married I met random people off the Internet and fucked them and a few boys from my highschool because it made me feel less out of control.  I also began cutting and disordered eating which has come and gone more than a few times. I tried to kill myself by way of pills. Once I ended up in a mental hospital for a week because my mom caught me cutting myself. Alex proposed selling my body to other men, something I couldn’t do..but come to find his friend was paying him to join in.

Three times more, by different people during this time I was raped again.

-By a cop who knew my mother, he made videos of it in his daughter's bedroom.

-A guy in the army who took advantage of my taking a nap while waiting for my ride.

-Jason Broome... Who took me from my friends bed after a night of partying, literally dragged me to his house and spent hours raping me until I could finally get up and leave...He claims it was consensual or it was my fault for taking drugs and drinking with "men" (16 y/o boys I thought were my friends)

Getting married was the only thing that get me away from Alex, though he came to our wedding (which only came to be because I got pregnant and miscarried). .. He tried to be friends with Chris and stay in my life. Alex`s last injury to me was blackmailing me into having sex with him before my wedding, he invited a friend and it wasn't a pleasant experience.

After we were married I came clean to Chris about him, he wanted to kill Alex for what he had done. However that didn't mean to a happy marriage. Just like every man before him, he was abusive and had a horrible temper.  

I endured two unwanted pregnancies, numerous physical attacks, and his addiction to child porn. To go into that would require many more pages... By the time I left him, I was even more afraid of men but much colder and more numb to the world.

There are memories I can't forget, physical evidence of my victimization on the Internet, physical scars. There were things I sought out in an effort to forget and numb my pain, trying to replace emotional with physical. I use to be hard on myself, blame myself, but I came to realize that I was a child. A child who didn't know anything other than violence, pain, and fear. A child who was coerced and taken advantage of, who saw the worst side of humanity.

[exquisit-corpse-blog]

(2)

This is where things become blurred and run together due to the constant moving. Through this time a few random things I remember are going hungry a lot, being made fun of in school, a teacher grabbing me by the throat, and  my threatening to beat my dad's girlfriend if she ever hurt my sisters again at the tender age of 10/11.

By this time I was terrified of all men, I was even afraid to be alone with my own dad.

My parents were getting divorced and it was hell. They fought EVERY time they were near each other, my mom even pulled a gun on my dad during one of the worst fights...I can't blame her, he was where my brother learned his violence. I was told my dad had once beat my mom so badly that she miscarried the baby before me...that baby had an ornament on the tree, it always made me cry.

We did go to church, another place I was made fun of, beat up, and cornered by an offensive man named Tommy he`d grab at me in inappropriate ways and yank me back to Sunday school hard enough to leave bruises. I had a problem with running out of class when the other kids were mean to me. Everyone, including the counselors dismissed them as my fighting.

Mother started working at a bar where she met Mr. John. We thought he was nice and to my sisters he was. To me, he was handsy. There was a lot of tickling and pinching my chest and butt, he would bounce me on his lap in strange ways, and always insist on hand feeding me, helping me dress, bathe. He would pull my hair and tell me how beautiful it was so I had my mother cut it all off. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him. My mom didn't think anything of it or just didn't want to admit to herself what was happening.

Not soon enough she broke up with him and moved in with a female friend who's daughter was truly demented. She was more obsessed with sex than anyone I had met then, talked about doing weird this with animals, setting fires, "doing it" with boys and making me go with her to meet up with them. She would threaten to harm my sisters if I said anything to anyone about what I witnessed. The day we moved out of that place was a rare happy day for me.

I don't remember where we went after moving, only that I was safe for a while. For a little while I had friends and rode my bike, acted like a kid and thought things were going to be ok.

[exquisit-corpse-blog]

The first pain

(1)

My brother is 10 years my senior, he knew better but didn't care; constantly in and out of jail. I remember being about 6 and finding him passed out on the bathroom floor of our trailer in the morning and tell my parents then the screaming and fighting would begin. At that time I remember being scared of the screaming.  

While living in that trailer I would wake up to snakes in my bed, sometimes to him touching me in ways that I knew were wrong. Some deep-rooted instinct always told me to pretend to be asleep. Perhaps it saved me from his violence, perhaps by doing so I subjected myself to more. I'll never know, the only thing I do know is I was afraid. Throughout the next few years we moved around more and people noticed I was promiscuous and more curious than I should be for my age.

The next place I remember living was on the water, a house on stilts that I always feared (and hoped) would collapse while we slept and we would all down. This place is where I remember the most. He would force us to fight for his amusement, if we refused there would be a punishment much worse than the fighting. We were taught violence from an early age. I remember my brother threatening my dad with a sledgehammer...waking up too many times to my brother's fingers inside of me.

Not long after I encased myself in silence, never cried, gave up on seeking affection, and became numb to the violence and anger constantly surrounding me. I feel like I survived my childhood as well as I did because I developed the ability to disassociate myself from all of it. We lived next to a highway that I was allowed to cross by myself, I found myself wanting to walk in front of the cars speeding down the road.

When the molestation by my brother ended I can't recall, it was probably when he moved out maybe I was 9...but that's not where my tragedies end.

[exquisit-corpse-blog]

Into the world...

"There are three sides to everyone every story yours, theirs, and the truth."

The story that is my life isn't one of happiness and joy... It is, in fact quite the opposite.

Throughout my childhood I believed myself to be unloved and unwanted,born as an accident which was made worse for my parents by the simple fact that I was a girl instead of the second son they wanted so dearly. My name was to be Thomas, after my grandfather. Instead of being given that strong name that was so beloved to my patents I was given a name that I will never accept as it came from my abusive older brother who molested me. The name that was chosen for me was 'Samantha'.

As a child I had a soft heart, or so I'm told. Even the smallest bit of anger or disappointment towards me was enough to bring tears to my big brown eyes. Mother could never tell me when all of that changed but, early in my life I became withdrawn and afraid. Though I have few memories of being a child most are pretty horrific...I can still feel the fear and sickness I felt as a small child so long ago. The memories that surface are of things no child should experience. While I truly wish I could erase them from my mind but I am no longer afraid of them.  

I never got to be a kid, most of my childhood was spent taking care of my little sisters and keeping secrets so monsters could continue being monsters.

...this blog is all I’ve hidden from the world.

[exquisit-corpse-blog]

Glad I said never-2016

Of all the cities I've traveled to, of all the people I've met, of the few I've loved, there's only one thus far who I feel I can be completely myself with...In Missouri, the one place I said I'd never live.

I don't know when it began, or when I first realized it, but for all of my efforts in keeping my heart in check, it happened...and one day I knew it would break my heart to lose you. My life wouldn't be as colorful without you, and neither would my ass.

In life, in play you encourage me to do better, achieve more. I adore you for both your support and your cruelty. You allow me to be the sarcastic, willful cunt I am, and treat me exactly how I need to be treated. Better than that, you enjoy treating me in such a way. I'm not afraid of losing myself with you because I feel my darkness is understood, accepted, and shared. It is because of who you are, what you are, and how we are together that for the first time in many years I can say this...

I want to kneel before you, serve you however I'm able, and submit to your will. I belong to you and only you, Sir.

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Twinkle twinkle little twat-2014

Twinkle twinkle little twat I like to be where you are not Not at home, not in the bar Bitch I don't wanna be wherever you are. By me <3

This can also be used as a toast in undesirable company... like being hit on at a bar when you just want Jameson and a meatloaf sandwich.

[exquisit-corpse-blog]

Nothing lasts forever-2013

People tend to take for granted the moments the have with each other because they believe there will be thousands more of them. Clinging to memories, iridescent evidence of what once existed. Sometimes grasping too tightly, and find that our hands are not on that object of infatuation, instead, clasped around our own throats, cutting off the breath we need to live...all because of being focused on one thing they can't have.

[exquisit-corpse-blog]

Rest-2013

Though my chest threatens to cave and tears stream down my cheeks before I'm taken over by clarifying numbness, in such repetitive, constant succession... my heart will be able to rest easy tonight. There is no hope, no promise, no pretty maybe's. Only what He is and what I am and we're different; that's why we can't be.

Not giving false hope was one of the kindest things He could have done for me tonight. It's easier this way-I will keep telling myself as one foot goes in front of the other and I take it "one day at a time" as He had said to me before when I asked how He does it.

My heart will ache with each step away from Him. This journey will be difficult and I know I'm far from done crying, but knowing He will always be there for me, as my friend, love me and think of me as His kitten, gives me strength to hold myself steady.

I choose to believe that we will always love each other and continue to have the special bond we've shared even if we cannot write our life's story together.