Running away to home.
Dark moods are not unknown to me. Though I have many fewer now than I did even a year ago, and by orders of magnitude fewer today than I did when I a still actively drinking myself to death. the (up?down?)side to this is that today, I am committed to turning my heart to face these moods and riding them instead of suffocating them in the sickly miasma of a sloppy drunk.
I had no reason, on the surface, to be as wracked with emotional pain as I was on Saturday night. I mean, here I was, at a kink event, among friends, having taught the most highly attended class at the event even though I’d flown in last-minute. Literally. Hit the tarmac and within 2 hours was in front of a room full of people talking about BDSM, sharing my thoughts, listening to theirs, gloriously supported by my wonderful friends. I’d even been asked by two kick-ass kids who run the Young & Kinky Podcast to do an interview. Benny and Jinx are so awesome, and it was so delightful to meet and get to know them a little. Plus it was saving me from having to be around so many people…
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And yet later I sat in a dark parking lot, ass prickled by bushes, sobbing my sinuses shut and pouring out my jangled thoughts on Twitter / Facebook.
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How does this happen? There were lots of reasons. Many of which have to do with my own self-esteem and the wicked brilliance of my inner saboteur. Every time…EVERY time…I forget how powerful my Nasty Voice can be, she snaps from some hidden murky corner. Bubbles (yeah if you don’t know about her read this here) had plenty to say to me as I sat on the sidelines watching other people play. And I have to listen. Can’t escape, mustn’t muzzle. Muzzling painful voices isn’t effective. They remember, and the have the patience of death. And I have no choice.
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Oh yes. they all love you, and they’ll come up and tell you that…all of these people..and sure, your class was great blah blah blah but is it you they like or just that you amuse them? If you were so great and all that shit wouldn’t you have someone with you? or wouldn’t you be returning home to that amazing dominant you love so passionately? Oh yeah…you don’t have that. Sorry. Too bad, huh? Look over there…your friends are playing, having fun. And over here, that kneeling slave so devotedly gazing into his mistresses eyes adoringly as she strokes his head…when was the last time anyone loved you like that…someone you loved more fiercely than breath?
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That hurt. Hurt badly. Suddenly the play-space was claustrophobic, the lights too distracting the sounds too loud the smell of fuel from the fire-play and the leather from the floggers nauseating and i had to leave.
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And I sat, with these feelings, and tried to be as compassionate as I could with myself. Not blaming. Not furthering the pain with more blame.
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Not too long afterward my friend Dana found me and patiently explained why I was not a loser. I kind of believed her. I believed her enough to grab the lifeline. And I started to feel better. bloody exhausted. but better. Part of me wanted to kick and yell and cry and run and hide, but in general I was remembering what it feels like to be around people I don’t feel compelled to entertain, or be “pleasing” and can really just be. It is true that there may be more people than I know for whom this will be true, but I’m crazy leery about that shit.Â
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And Sunday was, in fact, one of the best days I’ve had in a long time. There was a house party…a gathering in the wake f the Madtown Kinkfest in a gorgeous house. Relaxed. just a lot of kinky people enjoying the sun, or the AC or the hot tub. swapping stories, and I felt quite welcome…relaxed. And even when Bubbles trued to bite at me again as i say unable to join in a conversation where everyone…but me….was relating stories of the weekend’s play, their scenes, all that, and I felt grabbled by that nasty, nasty maelstrom I let it go, because it was OK. None of those people were me. None of those people had has the pleasure I’d had in sharing with my class, none of those people had been given the dark and prickly gift of surviving killing emotion and yet being able to enjoy the sunshine on the morning.
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I was OK.
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and then we did the kinkiest shit of all: after the Brunch, my friends Gray and Dana and I went….to the movies.
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And then…wait for it…to dinner.
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I know! And believe me, I was so stunned at how lovely and normal it all was i could hardly catch my breath. But I didn’t wanna seem like a dork and be all “OMG SQUEE!! MOVIES AND DINNER!!!”
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But I’ll say it now. IN fact, I just did!
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(We saw “MOON” which rocked. Go see it. Deft hands and minds crafted that film. Love it.)
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Supper was at a “grill your own steak house” called The Prime Quarter and holy shit that was pretty damned cool too. Buncha people standing around indoor open fire pits grilling steaks? Yes please.
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That "in the ether" vibe? Totally Gray & Dana's fault. Bastards! :-D
Later in the evening back at Gray’s apartment Dana turned to me, arms draped over a long bamboo pole, her innocent grin belied by the truly wicked gleam in her eyes as asked me if I would mind her using me for some rope practice while Gray coached her though some harness work.
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“Please, do NOT throw me into that brier patch.”
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But thrown I was. Righteously so.
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Last night’s scene (because yes, it did flowerblossom explode and race right into an insane headrush of a scene….) well, it was pretty bloody fantastic. I haven’t played much with Gray and this was the first opportunity I’d had to play with Dana and, to be frank, I don’t know what business I have playing with switchy type people ESPECIALLY switchy women because you KNOW they are teh ebilz….but I got lucky.
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I also discovered that Dana has a kick like a wild mule.  And she discovered she likes kicking girls. And I discovered that there isn’t very much room to move when you are being suffocated in Gray’s crotch while he holds up your legs so that his girlfriend can brace herself on a suspension frame and  wail on your ass.
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And it was good. Better than good. it was what I really needed.
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I’m not away enough from the play to write about it,but I will soon.
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It is incredibly rare that I meet people who I love this quickly, but I can’t help it. Dana, Gray, I love you and I am so honored that you are my friends.
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OK now I’m totally all verkempt. Sitting in a coffee shop in Madison, Wisconsin…thinking and feeling and leaning back so I don’t cry on my laptop.Â
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But I am. I am so blessed. To be loved, to have friends, to have so many, many people who give a shit about me.
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Awwwww, sweetie. *hugs* I’m glad you were able to let go of that darkness and have a good scene with people you care about and love.
Lots of love, darling. :-)
Thank you Miss Eliot!
It was so, so amazing to get so much support and love from people when I was in strugglycat mode. So very grateful, I am
(Big hugs)
Mo
My sister has told me so many times to just feel the pain, but man that is hard. It is the hardest thing of all.
Glad you feel better, sweetie.
Fuck yeah it is.
But as counterintuative as it sometimes feels to me, it really really is an amazing opportunity to have that painful ache serve as a galvanizing catalyst for some hardcore fucking growth.
Much love!
Mo
Yay for the briar patch!
We love ya, sexeh!
*smooch*
Ain’t it grand?
~Mo
Bubbles needs a bodybag….seriously
I think there is this secret island out in the underworld realm and everyone’s censors live there. I know that BDSM and art can blur lines so I encourage you to look some texts up in the Artists Way book. The censor is a big part of one’s apprehensions, fears, insecurities.
When mine shows up on occasion, she shakes me to my core. I find that the only solution is to eventually get up from the place you are huddled in and metaphorically grab her against the wall. In fact, it may help (since you are an actress) to act it out. Walk to the nearest wall and roleplay picking her up by the neck or pinning her in some way and saying aloud (firmly): Im Mollena. You are not me. You want to have more control over this body but you are just an insecure nothing that sees fit to tell me that I too am nothing. Go away!”
I remember when I first isolated that aspect and how strong it felt…nowadays, I feel this wasting disease pulling her power but, like any scared dying creature, the attacks are less frequent but more vicious.
Isn’t it amazing how we can be our own best foe?
Much love.
Mo
I just stopped by to check your blog and had to read what could get you down. I too have a short memory and can forget how good I have it.
Even if you aren’t so lucky to have a brilliant experience right after, you’re never alone in feeling alone. Those same people having the time of their lives might spend the next night feeling alone and rejected by the world.
I hope that next time you’re feeling that way you’ll remember that you’re just human, that we’re all stupid, and that you’re being stupid in doubting yourself. You might also want to ask yourself, how many people aren’t walking up to you because of their own insecurities? How many people are thinking “She could have anyone in that class she taught, and she’s a brilliant energetic sexy woman, why would she be interested in me?”
Maybe most people don’t like to be told they’re stupid, but that’s what I tell myself when I start listening to my insecurities. I’m just fucking human, and prone to stupid shit, so I don’t give myself grief when I fall into it. I definitely don’t feel alone in the stupid stuff that I feel. So don’t give yourself too much grief for the insecurities you have or for having insecurities. Just remember that the world is filled with people who care about you, so any doubting of your worth must just be a stupid human thing.
I hope you’re feeling better.
:-D Hey! How lovely to see you swinging by ye olde blog!
And for sharing your experience.
I really CAN get behind the “remmber this is a human thing, girl!” reminder. One of the few things about myself that I find helps me when I feel shakey is to hold onto my intelligence, so feeling stupid about myself would make me stabby! ;-) and you are so very sweet to say all those lovely things!
Peace.
Mollena
I hate that voice…I hear it too often myself. I’m glad you were able to shut Bubbles the hell down like you did.
And if yer gonna shut that voice up…what better way to do it? Damn. Nice. ;)
no one said
it was easy
for if it was
you wouldn’t be going
thru the doors
you now pass thru
with so much hellacool
as one could stand
you do as you must
so you numb you dome
which now entitles reasons
to develop a Zen of multitasking
your Life so nobody sees you …..
sweat…. never … ever….
so when you reach that level of Neverland
means you are standing at the crossroads
Ice on one turn…. Mojo Heat straight ahead….
if you dont put some thought
about your actions
then Life wont be so much
Satisfaction… just many levels of distractions
in which you pay …. daily and dearly……
lamesabassman…… just a thought…..
know you limitations….
then your possibilities will be….. endless….
forward ever….. backwards never…..