Tuesday, January 15, 2013


One thing I learned about myself is that I never know where that figurative inappropriate sexual line is until I've clearly crossed it, or at least until the person I tried to cross it with told me.  Now that I've found my perfect deviant partner, will we know if we've crossed that line?  Does the line move simply because of what's acceptable and arousing to both of us? When does healthy cross over into unhealthy? Last night was tons of fun, we both enjoyed ourselves thoroughly while flirting with the taboo.  Nothing crazy. Nothing I would categorize as crazy, though you may. I love that I found someone to which I can tell my inner most sexual secrets.  Someone who is just as sick as I am.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Let's start over, shall we?

I have words and phrases floating around my head and no place to put them. I want to be a writer. I desperately want to create profound prose that moves you to tears. That makes you think.  I try to take the nonsensical thoughts and to string them together to produce something with substance. I fail. The simple act of taking thoughts and typing them out is an impossible task. I type and delete. I type and re-word. I move things around and check for errors.  I'm never satisfied even when I think I am.

I want to tell you about my job.  How I lie, cheat and steal.  How I sell my soul almost daily and earn close to nothing for the ethical turmoil.  I want you to feel the distress in my writing. I want you to hate me for what I do and love the fact I'm good at it.  I want to be the antagonist.  I want you to feel no sympathy yet wanting to know more.  I want you to know how I can make money appear and your home disappear in a few clicks of my mouse.  I want you to know I try to be moral.  I don't want you to believe me. I want you to see a piece of humanity in me when I actually do the right things for the right reasons.  I want you see how rare that is.

I want to tell you how how motherhood is for me.  How I love my child yet resent almost weekly.  I want you to identify and scream "ME TOO!" I want to tell you all the things we deal with and how strong I think I am.  I want you to feel sorry we have rough times. I want you to love us and feel a part of our family.  I want to update you on doctor visits and new diagnosis.  I want to tell you funny things my child says and the bad things he does.  I want you laughing at our mishaps and crying over our troubles.

I want you to know I'm sober.  How I wish I wasn't and yet love the life of recovery I live.  I want you to be curious how I got here and why I choose to get clean.  I want to you agree it's for the better but secretly hope to hear a war story.  I want you to hate who I used to be and love me for who I hope to become.


"You look a little thick, that's something a cocaine diet can fix."

Sick thoughts never leave.  They may not come as often now, but they'd always be there.  Today they arrived in full force, actually sounding like a good idea. The most rational thought I've had all day.  Too bad that's not allowed. I'm annoyed. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't use and at that moment I wish I hadn't; I wish I could still do a coke binge and drop a couple of pounds. I can justify it as not using, it's strictly a diet aid.  I promised I wouldn't.  I feel so ungrateful for this body.  When did I begin this sick game with myself?  When did I stop loving what I look like and begin the weight obsession   Nothing fits "fat" correctly, which is the price to be paid for such shameful and unhealthy behavior.  I'm down a lot, down more than I have ever been down, doing it the right way.

Doing it right with hard work and doing it wrong the easy way have the same results.  I'm just enabling my laziness   "Big and Beautiful" is everyone but me as far as the self confidence, the love of one's self.  Oh how I'd be happy if I could love who I've become and be proud of the fat that I shed.   Weight is a number, a size, a lifestyle.  A being that is ok for you but not me.  Why is every mirror in my house a fun-house mirror?  Why can't I see what you see?

Monday, May 16, 2011


I stumbled upon this and found it well written and amazing  ~Mimsey~

WARNING: The following work is intended for readers that are 18+ and may contain material not suitable for everyone. Those readers who might be easily offended or upset by reading sexually deviant works I suggest not read my work.

Rape me, beat me, love me

The dream starts so simply. I open her door and walk in seeing her lying on Amanda bed using her lab top. I lie down on my back next to her and close my eyes instantly feeling completely exhausted from the day’s work. She crawls over and smiles at me, then leans down kissing my lips softly. “Please stay awake” she softly begged him seeing him laying there. “I can barely keep my eyes open let alone kiss you” I reply half awake. Amanda smiles and throwing a leg over my hips pressing down with her body weight has her hips settle on top of mine. She thrust her hips forward grinding against my hips still covered by my shorts and boxers while she wore her usual sweat pants. There was total silence or so it seemed like it. I heard nothing and every attempt to move away was in vain. I was too tired to even try and break free from what she was doing and anything that I wanted to say just wouldn’t escape my lips. I felt like a helpless doll has the silence grew over both of us and her body kept thrusting down on mine. Suddenly she stops and retreats to the side. A sigh of relief escapes my lips and I close my eyes feeling the need to sleep growing heavier. I awake to a tug of my shorts. I’m still tired, but my hand tries to grab them and hold them to me. However, has they get to my hips they’ve already been pulled past my knee. I try the other side and again my tired body moves too slowly to catch them from being pulled down. I open my eyes and tilt my head forward to see what is happening only to find her crawling her way over wearing what appears to be only a shirt. My heart pounds and I tense feeling scared and nervous of what is happening to me, knowing that I’m helpless now. She climbs back on top of me to grind against me yet again only this time not stopping until her obvious objection is completed. Has she starts to grind her hand reaches down to my chest and grips my chest sinking her nails through my shirt to grip my chest. I let out a howl of pain feeling her gripping me and my body shudders has my head falls to the side whimpering. My eyes and hands clench shut and hold tightly has I reluctantly feel myself wanting her to do more. My legs tense and I can’t move away. I’m frozen in place has she slowly is able to get me more and more aroused. I feel her getting wet has she grinds over me. Her grip on my chest getting tighter has she finds more enjoyment in what she is doing. Eventually she lets me slip inside of her suddenly of her. It glides in easily. I open my mouth, but no sound is able to escape my lips. She squeals in delight and quickens her pacing in delight. My mind screams and begs for this to stop or let it be a bad dream, any thing other than the reality it seems. My heart beats fast and heavy and hard. I can feel it pound through my chest. Amanda pulls at my chest feeling herself getting caught in the delight. Her hands let go and clench into fist and start swinging wildly has she moves over me. The fists hit me randomly with surprising force leaving heavy red marks instantly. Grunts and howls of pain find their way out while I’m pelted with her fists. She begins to hit me harder now only hitting my chest her climax starting to peak hearing the sounds escape my lips and feeling me move inside of her. I feel myself instinctively orgasm at the acknowledgement of giving her one. She feels the stream burst inside of her and returns it whimper loudly, her hands pushing down on my chest all the while. She falls forward and I slip out of her. I gasp and cry softly a rush of feelings swimming through me. She catches her breath the lifts her head, cocking it instantly confused. “Whats wrong?” she asks softly. I manage to wrap my arms around her and let them cling to her still crying softly. The tears stroll down my cheeks “Hold me… love me”.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Feelings are funny things

Life is full of pain.  The feelings that are attached to a broken relationship are too horrible to even begin to explain but I'll try. Sometimes you feel like you'll never be happy again.  Smiling is an impossible task, not that you want to anyway.  Your heart feels like it will never love while it's beating a mile a minute in your throat.  It was almost there, I almost said it.  I wanted to feel it.  I wanted you to know that I really wanted to love you.  I couldn't.  I'm sorry.

The part that everyone forgets is that moment when you feel at peace and realize that this is what was supposed to happen.  It doesn't minimize the heart ache.  It shows you it was worth it.  The experiences, the self awareness and amazing moments that happened are always going to be there.  You can't erase the past when a relationship ends.  At the moment when you're in excruciating pain you want to. You want to delete it all from your memory.  But once that lump in the back of your throat is gone and you can sleep again, you smile when  you remember something.  You can tell a cute story without tearing up and you move on with your life.

The pain of a lost partner never goes away.  You just get better and dealing with it.  You slowly stop asking "What if?" and start to respect the fact it didn't work.  You own your part and nothing else.  Do you want that piece of your life back? Yes? No? You might, or might not, it changes on a daily basis.

Would it be better if your heart was never open to it in the first place?  Of course it would.  But it was broken, you had no say in the matter and I had to make decisions to make it as easy on you as possible. It didn't work for a reason, and it doesn't matter what those reasons are.  Just remember the hurting goes away and the peace does come back to your life. I'll let you know when it happens for me...

We Received an Award - YIPPIE

Thank you to the amazing and strong woman from "Chaos, Clutter and Cancer? Oh My!" I received my very first blogging award!

*drum roll*

This award is to recognize and appreciate fellow bloggers and let your readers know about blogs they might not have known about.
Now it's time to pass it on.  Here are the rules:

*Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post.
*Share seven things about yourself.
*Award 15 bloggers you recently discovered.
*Contact these bloggers and let them know they have received this award.

Here are  my 7 things...
1.  I'm a recovering addict with over 4.5 years clean
2.  I'm a horrible cook
3.  I was born on Leap Day ( Feb 29th)
4.  I <3 string cheese
5.  I started blogging to get all the stuff I wrote out of my Journal
6.  I'm 31 and in Menopause
7.  I'm a Narcissist with insecurity issues

Now the hard part, I need come up with 15 Bloggers...

Pam's Inbox

Reece Rants & Raves

I don't know many, obviously, so I'm going to spend a few days clicking "Next Blog" to discover blogs...wish me luck! I'll add them above as I find them.

Sunday, April 17, 2011


Trying to be still and quiet in a sleeping house.  My mind won't settle.  It's flooded with a menagerie of words randomly coming together to form strings of simple complicated thoughts...

"Realistically improbable"
"Emotionally over whelming amazing"
"Romantically utterly exhausting"
"Physically exhilarating"
"Unexpectedly clingy"
"Insecurely minimally strong"
"Fearfully patient"
"Unacceptably appropriately second"
"Breathlessly in awe"