eveningdoll

I woke up, screaming. The room all around me spun as voices faded away from the very edge of my awareness, laughter from my nightmares making my head ache. I could tell I was sobbing, could feel the wetness on my cheeks, but I couldn’t hear the world around me. I couldn’t hear the voice begging me to come back, I couldn’t feel the arms that secured me to the present. Suddenly, I was twelve again, and the skeletons in my closet and monsters under my bed were still alive and well… I could feel the cold around my wrists, smell the pungent air…

Yet, just as suddenly, it all began to fade away… and my senses were filled with the familiar, comforting bark of my dog.

His name is Archer. He is my service dog, my lifeline, my best friend, and my constant furry companion. He has big paw prints to fill after my first, but he tries his best. Archer, you see, is a total goofball. Like, he thinks he’s a lapdog most of the time, and the rest of it? He thinks he’s even bigger than he is [and he isn’t a small boy, lemme tell YOU!]. 

He serves as my reminder… that times are better.

See, there was a time when I wasn’t allowed comfort, of any sort. Now, I can run my fingers through his fur and it always feels like it’ll be okay.

The cold terrifies me, but this little bugger always keeps me warm.

A newfound friend reminded me, today, that sometimes you have to experience the bad to really appreciate the good, and this furry black fuzzface is my prime, shining example of just that: I appreciate him every single day I get to be around him.

[I also appreciate my other Fuzz Face, but that’s beside the point 😉 I love You, Owner!]

I know what it’s like to be without… I have found that I am never alone. I have my pup, and he will keep me safe.

Because sometimes, it’s the little things that make the biggest difference.
And for those who feel hopeless and destitute… It sucks. I’m sorry… I’m so, so very sorry, dears. It’s a terrible feeling, that yawning emptiness where your soul once once… but it won’t last forever. I’m here. I’m reading. I’m paying attention.

You’re not alone. It will be okay. And I love you.

Archer loves you, too. Promise.

It gets better. And when it does, you’ll be so much happier, because you’ll know what pain feels like. 

My best friend once told me something. I hope it’ll bring you some kind of strength, darling reader, or inspire you somehow.

“Its you and me against the world… It’s going to be a glorious day.” 

“How can a person who seems as strong and hard headed as you be searching for a Total Power Exchange?” 

Well. You see… I mean… Because… -deep sigh- Alright. Here we go.

Daily inclusion of our Dynamic is imperative to my functioning as a proper doll for my Owner. Unlike many of the people I read on a regular basis, I do not enjoy bratting my Sir at ALL, and so when I begin to resist His Dominance, it is a sure sign of something disturbed deep within myself or our relationship. Opposite [and more relevant to this writing], if I become entirely complacent, Owner is also immediately aware of my being out of sorts.

[I also want to take a moment to make it known that neither of these are conscious things I do; complacency is often a response to depression or feeling as though I’ve failed, normally a response to something I have not yet recognized or analyzed, while “bratting” tends to be my subconscious response to having to take control in other aspects of my/our life. Both I know to be inappropriate and unacceptable behavior, but neither come from an aware place.]

Complacency is far from the norm, for me. I only lose my autonomy when placed in the deepest of doll modes, which is just as Owner likes it. I am far more content following after His lead, taking His orders, now that they have become my Doctrine and Law… but my opinions are still voiced and welcome.

More than anything, this fact served as constant reinforcement [and a pleasant, continuous reminder] in the formation of our Dynamic. For the entirety of my life, I have been an incredibly Dominant force: an Alpha, Top, Leader… I had to force myself over the threshold to give these things up; yet, I have not abandoned my assertiveness in its entirety. 

See, I remain an advocate, a writer, a voice amongst the people. I want to be there to take the hands of the weary and fallen and let them know, “Hey, it’s okay. You’re not alone. I’ve been there, too.” This is something Owner is endlessly supportive of. In fact, He wastes no opportunity to brag about my willingness, so long as He personally knows that my willingness has not led to a direct hindering of my Service to Him.

I gave up being THE voice for a small group, but it was exchanged for being A voice for a much larger group altogether. The work I did for a small scale, I am now able to do much more productively and for a vast array of people. I did not give up being a Type A personality… I just allowed my Owner to refocus my energy.

My search for Total Power Exchange has not made me weak, or broken, or crumbled… It has changed me, allowed me to evolve in such a way that I am now a more powerful force altogether.

I am just so much more subtle about it… and I have my Owner to thank for that.

Tonight, I am thankful. 

I am terrified and nervous, sick to my stomach with uncertainty, and without a person to talk to until I have figured a few things out on my own… and yet, I am thankful. 

I have spent a successful holiday with my dad, with no arguments and no horror stories to share. Owner did excellent with the crowd despite general discomfort. The four children running about weren’t enough to dampen our spirits… and, THERE WAS SNOW! REAL, HONEST TO GOODNESS SNOW!!

While we (my Owner, my dad, and myself) deep fried the turkey, the children had a snowball fight and their parents and grandparents stayed inside like old hens. It was so gorgeous… The excitement and glee from the kiddos was infectious, and Owner and I ended up throwing a few snowballs ourselves. It was all fantastic.

I have so many things to be grateful for; my world keeps spinning, my life keeps going. We will always be okay… It feels nice, knowing that. I… am thankful.

My assignment for the next little while is to properly research the necessary information for Owner, Lily, our two dogs, and myself to live mobile for a 6 month time period. First stop is the most complicated: monthly income [2,000 USD].

If any readers have any suggestions, please let me know! We will have three adults, but my work schedule would need to be minimal at best and leave plenty of time to continue my schooling. 

Be well. And happy Thanksgiving. 

Tomorrow will be the first time in my recallable memory that I am willingly spending a holiday with my father… I’m still up in the air when it comes to my personal opinion on the matter… I know, without any semblance of doubt or uncertainty, that I am beyond lucky to have this sort of opportunity: one in one hundred thousand, or some other bizarrely unbalanced statistic. It isn’t that I’m not grateful [in fact, I’m moved to tears with gratitude], but…

My father and I have had a turbulent relationship, to be kind. 

I can tell you stories about being locked outside overnight during Minnesota winter, or screaming matches over [what I can now identify as] misperceptions on both parts in regards to the events of my childhood, or what almost became physical altercations over our mutual discord with verbal communications… The list goes on, and at times, can be more than a little disturbing.
 And yet, among the chaos and loathing, the Man I am honored to call Owner saw the glimmer of what could be an amazing relationship, and like the bulldog He can be, He refused to let it go. He held tight and shook it until I finally acquiesced to His point… and earlier this year, we hosted my father and his wife at our home for three days. [WHICH, I later came to find out that he bragged endlessly about this for weeks prior. “My daughter invited ME to stay AT HER APARTMENT. She wants to COOK WITH ME…. IN HER KITCHEN! She’s going to let me COOK WITH HER!” According to his wife, he drunkenly exclaimed this for all listening ears at the reception of a wedding directly prior to coming to stay with us until he found a corner to collapse into, where he cried himself sober, realizing “She might not hate me. She is going to let me cook with her.” Come on, who can hate the man after that?]

You know what? It was absolutely marvelous. There were tears, painful memories, epiphanies that led to a complete identity crisis… and by the end of the weekend, I had more than just a sperm donor.

I had, and have, a father. A DAD.

And tomorrow, I will be voluntarily spending a holiday with him. I’m kind of freaking out.

[BUT. I hear it’s okay: Dad’s freaking out, too.]

So I was recently (as in, less than half an hour ago) reminded of this blog, and so I went ahead and downloaded everything onto my new phone… I figured, why not? The benefits I found while writing here regularly vastly outweigh any sort of irritation, uncertainty, or discomfort. Having a private corner of the Internet to cling to when my thoughts spiral has assisted me time and time again. So, I guess I’m back… and, I suppose that means it is time for an update, mhmm? 

Owner and I have been, as previously mentioned , actively moving towards a TPE (total power exchange) dynamic, and while a few things have gotten in the way of that, we have not given up our goal. In fact, the other evening, we realized just how much closer we are to it: my Owner is Law, He is Faith and Hope, He is my consistency and I have come to Worship Him, not unlike a deity. We have not reached a point where either of us are comfortable, yet, claiming TPE, but we are active in our development. It’s been a marvelous journey and plans are to progress in the best possible way. I can honestly say that I feel as if we are finding ourselves in the D/s world, at long last.

Beta is still an active caretaker of mine, though to say our relationship goes untested would be an outright lie. Currently, I do not know where the pieces lie, but that is also due in large part to the lack of physical proximity (I am on vacation with Owner for the holiday; Thanksgiving up in the frosty north). I am hopeful that it will work itself out with minimal problem once our vacation comes to an end.

There is also a new member of my little social circle (which has gotten progressively smaller over time): for now, I will call her Lily. She is fresh, not-so-new to us, and has become a very dear, very trusted companion. I am ecstatic to welcome her. See, her family life was… difficult… and unfortunately quite familiar to me. Neither Owner nor I could sit around and watch as the situation became progressively more dangerous, and once “probably not healthy” became “legitimately life threatening,” He decided to intervene. She has been living with us, since, and it’s been worth every single trouble it may have caused. 

And kitten?… Well, that’s deserving of a post in and of itself. Needless to say, it… might be negative. And I might not be up for dealing with it anymore… because the world has become the space between her fingers as she curls her hands into fists, and I’m constantly running and fighting in hopes of keeping Owner and myself from being crushed by the force of her…. insanity… because I fell in love with her and I wish I could be in love with her illness…

So yeah… I’m alive. Hi.

(For a writing challenge on FetLife.)

Maybe it isn’t a lie when I tell you to rest your pretty head back on the pillow, that I’ll message you tomorrow.

“It’ll be okay. I love you.”

But you need to hear those words so you can believe that all is not lost and maybe you’re not completely crazy.

“I get it. I love you, too.”

Maybe that’s not a lie, but I’m lying when I say I share in your pain, even while his arms are wrapped tight around me.

“We’ll get through this. I love you.”

I know your world will never be the same, but mine is exactly how I want it to be.

“Who needs him anyways, when I love you?”

The betrayal is so much deeper when it isn’t you they are betraying.

Like a summer breeze, you came into my life, unexpected but greatly appreciated. You were a relief from the constant Texas heat that stifles dreams and slowly saps the life from the beauty that surrounds us all, daily. Just as my trees grew limp in starvation, as my world began to look desolate beneath the never ending burn of the summer sun, you wafted through, a promise of death to come, if only for the sake of rebirth.

And now, we sit in the lingering spring, just before another summer crushes us and isolates us in our air conditioned houses, kept safe and locked away from the scorching heat. The difference is that we are together, no longer having to weather the seasons changing on our own. I am eternally grateful.

This summer, however, will be the summer for secrets. I am forced to watch as friendships once held in ultimate regard crumble around your innocence, and it is my duty to keep it from shattering. I’m not sure I will be able to manage it, and the weight of those secrets already pulls at my shoulders.

He is falling under her spell, tumbling down into her trap, and I am terrified that it will take him six feet under, where he will rot in a wooden box mourned only by the son too young to remember what Daddy looks like. I know her, and I know she will leave nothing left of him but broken what if’s and unanswered why’s.

Worse yet, I know that, despite his betrayal and the bridges already set ablaze, you will travel thousands of miles to stand by his side during his downfall. Loyalty is unending, and you will feel responsible for his decisions. After all, you introduced him to the monster that is nibbling away bit by bit at his soul. You will believe it’s all your fault, and you will sooner destroy yourself than move on from the blame that will cling to you like a second skin.

It will become my duty to do the one thing I told myself I’d never do: I will attempt the most subtle of manipulations in a vain effort to free him from the grips of the beast that has already, twice, destroyed your life. I will be his confidant and secret keeper, his cornerstone and the referee forever in his corner. I will offer him my friendship and hand… and I will keep the battle beneath the surface of my sociopathy, where not even you can touch.

I will keep you ignorant and unaware, and thus, safe. You will not blame yourself for his downfall. You will continue on with this life you have resurrected, blissful. The brunt of this battle will scar my skin and mar my mind, but never will it’s warfare touch you. I swore my loyalty and my protection, no matter the cost. So if I obtain a few new scars, they’ll just be whispers of battles raged and, hopefully, wars eventually won.

Yet, as the night settles around us in quiet slumber, and your snores join the others, I wonder… Am I being selfish? Is it wrong of me to keep you here and refuse you the choice to defend your best friend? I know the outcomes and am doing what I feel is best to prevent the worst… but is it wrong of me?

And yet… if this is wrong…
Then what is right?

Here and now, I will roar into this fight, a Hound of Hell, and condemn myself to the flames. I will stand beside my decision, firm and powerful, and crumble only when seeking eyes look away. You will dry my tears, never the wiser of the choice I have made and the doubts that assault my mind.

For the die has been cast and I follow my heart… even if it shall lead to my demise.

Just know that no matter what, I love you, dearly, earnestly, and completely… and as the dust settles, I am still Your Hound.

Not even Hellfire can claim that.

My nightmares have been terrible. We’ve been pick, pick, picking away at the walls around my childhood, and everything I’ve been repressing for over a decade has been pouring out at night. Unfortunately, I only remember the vaguest of details when I wake up the next morning.

I’ve been sleeping about twelve hours a night and it’s been rough… Owner sleeps next to me, but he’s been sleeping later. Yesterday, I finally asked why, and he and Beta both told me…

He’s been staying up until Beta wakes up (at 8am) so he can calm me through my nightmares.

Gosh, that hurts…

Life is going a little crazy, right now, but my boys are switching off on who is awake to take care of me. And right now, I’m trying to do my best to return that favor… Owner is asleep and I have my arms wrapped around him. Whenever he whimpers or whines, I try to calm him.

So my question: how do you calm a sleeping partner during a nightmare? What methods do you use? And how effective are they?

I have songs I hum or sing and very short phrases I say, always in the same tone. I also have things I do in my waking hours (like tracing his scars) that I do so his body recognizes my touch.

I don’t know what Owner does. Maybe I’ll post about it when he wakes up and I can ask.

(Written on May 6th, 2016, and not published for a few days. I apparently pressed the wrong button.)

Pain changes my thought process, as it does to most people. I get aggressive, violent. As I understand it, this isn’t uncommon; however, the severity of my agony and subsequent rage probably is. I am a very disconnected person during my day to day existence, so when I do find myself drowning in a sea of rage… It is difficult for me to adjust properly.

I’ve been in increasing amounts of agony all day. It started last night… Owner had a bad nightmare and turned into me in his sleep. His arms wrapped around my waist and he yanked, pulling me into him. Unfortunately, my back is… bad. To say the least. I have had three back surgeries and have five that should be visible in my future, if my health holds out. When he yanked, something popped. As the day has gone on, I’ve stubbornly refused to rest. I have cleaned, cooked, and done laundry.

In fact, I’ve made three meals today, when usually I am limited to one. Breakfast was simple (fried egg and bacon sandwiches), lunch was mostly left overs made in other ways, but dinner was… complicated. Stove fried chicken, mac and cheese, bacon and green beans, and homemade blackberry cobbler. It meant I was on my feet for the two hours it took to prepare and cook. By the time I made everybody’s plates and served them and sat down for the family movie, I couldn’t stretch my leg out without wanting to cry.

That meant the little things that would usually irritate me only slightly… frustrated me so severely that I snapped. I didn’t actually notice it for some time, until Owner reached down to brush his fingers through my hair. The action is so familiar and kind, it should go beneath my notice entirely. He does it for a multitude of reasons, regularly throughout the day. Sometimes, it is his attempt to catch my attention, as it was tonight. Other times, it is just a closeness, a reminder of our proximity, a show of affection, or just a subtle and unspoken approval of my appearance (something I struggle with daily). The fact that he, very calmly, did so tonight should have been normal.

Instead, I felt it like a livewire. It shocked me through to the very core of my body and sent wild little sparks all throughout. It was a wild sensation that, when it reached my back, hurt. I gritted my teeth together and turned to look at him, and the concern in his eye was enough to tell me what I was doing. I nodded my apology and spent the rest of the evening at his feet with my head on his thigh, forcing myself to breathe through the pain and partake in Family discussions.

We often hear about dealing with pain as part of the dynamic, but what if you experience something totally outside it that serves only as a detriment to your relationship? How do you handle something the world has done to you? How do you submit through crippling agony that is your body simply betraying itself? I ask myself these questions regularly, but I just realized that they are not commonplace in the community. How do you deal with chronic pain in a 24/7 power exchange dynamic?

Do you know what a panic attack is like? Do you understand the creeping sensation of body tingles and the way it all starts in your extremeties, a reminder that hey, you don’t need those parts anyways?

Can you fathom the way your mind twists and turns until the words you were once so familiar with make no sense and form sentences of utter gibberish?

Will you imagine the juxtaposition of memories over the present as colors bleed and walls change place until your very idea of reality spirals visibly down an imaginary drain?

Feeling hopeless and captured, old wounds ripping fresh against your skin, and you reach up to touch the scars only to pull your hands away wet with tears instead of blood?

Breathe.

The only thing that grounds you is the softness of a blanket held dear to someone you love, fabric that still smells like home and safety five and a half years after she left it behind…

And a song that plays loud enough to quiet the screaming nonsense in your mind…

Just long enough to quiet your worlds, a combination of all too fresh memories and the sensations of your new life, so that maybe you can fall into blackness and silence.

What once scared you becomes your refuge as sleep claims you yet again…

Now, tell me. Do you know what a panic attack feels like?