Grief never fades

Splay me open
Crack my chest
There’s little enough left
A heart in tatters
Each new day cut slivers
Stuck in throat
Flowed out with tears come unbidden
Weaving a false tale of hopes realization
Fantasy without root
Just another sliver
An ache that never ends
Take what blood remains
Chest hollowed out
Filled with burnt ash
An endless well

Only blue or black days

I think about it daily
Several times a day
It causes pain in my throat
Tears in my eyes
I feel my heart aching
And I keep getting up
I keep going to work
I keep acting
Like I’m my normal self
If not normal itself
It’s not that I want to die
Or that oblivion is so alluring
I just don’t see the point of this anymore
And I tell myself, of course I won’t do it
It used to be that I thought, don’t set it in motion cause that’s when it will turn around.
Ever the cynic, even the end turns out wrong
But now it’s that I can’t hurt the people I love
Even if they don’t love me like I need them to
I think about it every day
But I don’t do it
I don’t know if that makes me strong
Or a fool
This is a beautiful world
I doubt it would be less so without me in it

Thoughts of a Sir on a Friday morningĀ 

I find the most interesting thing. If I am engaging with a submissive I almost can’t help but assume a Sir role. I’m not doing it deliberately, it’s just that their need immediately changes my behavior. I could be depressed or sad and if they need, I immediately switch to the caregiver/Sir role. It’s like all the bullshit slips away and I’m left with the simple desire to make their world work again. And afterwards, whatever negative feelings I had are gone. Call it a need to be needed or just a slip into the role that feels most right. But if I think of things in those terms, if I’m approached in those terms, the certainty of my place in the world makes me and whomever I engage with, have a better experience.
Just where my thinking goes this morning.

Slipping on a well worn coat

I hate feeling this when I should be elated
crushed and confused and possibly hated
so tired of being vulnerable
when all I want is you
I’m the dreamer and the dream
translucent, falling through my self
screaming in chaos, in silence
spinning my fictions for a heart well broken
waiting to hear

Hello depression, where’ve you been?

Sleep deprivation slowly erodes joy and hope until I’m left with nothing but a thin thread of possible tomorrow. Which, in this state, I see for a game of liars poker. The only desire I have is to hold my love in my arms and sleep. But I’m alone and even dreams betray me. Lost amidst the strewn rubble of could have been. Wandering in a maze built from my own false turnings.

Am I high maintenance?

I am tough to be in a romantic relationship with, I think. If I know where I stand, have affection from my partner, and we have communication every day then I’m OK. Probably even good. On some days great.

But if I don’t know where I stand, then I’m always seeking information to get to that information. Which means weird questions and anxiety.

If we don’t communicate every day for more than a single exchange, I begin to accrue anxiety and eventually spiral into a full blown spinout and possible depression.

Cold language or cold treatment can seem to be lack of affection. And it almost always means there is a problem. Maybe not with the relationship but with life or whatever.
This leads me to believe that I am not trusted. And cue eventual anxiety and depression.

I feel like this makes me high maintenance. Or be perceived as high maintenance.

Anxiety and depression reactions are not ideal consequences but they are things that can be alleviated by my partner just being there. In that state I don’t need solutions, I just need presence.

Those things seem like things things anyone would want?
Am I asking for too much?
Those seem like normal things to want.

People and the horse they rode in on

Post people hangover. It’s a thing any introvert can sympathize with. And it’s what happened yesterday and it is what led me to a short depressive episode. Ugh. I am a role-player and not just the sexy kind.

Nope, I’m also a tabletop role player and that means a bunch of people sitting in a room pretending to be something else while one person spins a world of fantasy. In this case a literal one. Because while the ruleset is Palladium, (for reasons, I know the company is awful), they are in my Split Sky world. Though they don’t know what that means.

But still, spending 6+ hours being the center of attention while spinning essentially a consensual hallucination drains me completely. And some days that means I get depressed and some days that means I listen to that bastard part of my brain that says you are fucking up. That I’m not someone who can be loved let alone someone worth loving. And since so much of my self is bound up in love and beauty, that is the things that the bastard in my brain tries to wrest away from me. Tries to control.

Yes, I’m uncertain. Because I believe that certainty leads people to the blind alleys of always being right and unable to see other perspectives and inability to change. It is when we are our most static that we are our most dangerous. Pure chaos burns itself out. Pure order spreads and destroys.

So it takes this element of uncertainty and it spreads it like cancer through everything good and I can manage it but not stop it. Someone who is mine, can stop it but only if I believe that they are mine. Which generally means someone who has said and I believe that they love me. It can’t be family. I feel too distant from them to believe it when I’m depressed.

So that’s my story of my weekend. Introvert plus center of attention for extended periods equals depression. As I say in real life, generally half sarcastically, good times.

Tired, so tired

When I was without communication, without Facebook, without texting, I think I was happier.

Without this constant potential connection, But no actual connection. Because I’m drowning here. I thought I knew how to swim, but maybe the waters are rising. Each attempt, each failure, breaks me further.
Until, at last, there’s nothing left to give.


When the nightmares begin
I’m your one and only sin
Dream with me, I’m all in

Love is not for the faint of heart
I tell you this from the start
It’s so hard we often fall apart

But I tell you that when the nightmares begin
I’m your one and only sin
Dream with me, I’m all in

I’m not walking away
I’ll be here till my dying day
I’ll be the one who stays

And when the nightmares begin
I’m your one and only sin
Dream with me, I’m all in

Dream with me, I’m all in