I initially wrote this as a combination of a journal entry and a letter to the sub and the sailor (the sub’s girlfriend and my submissive-esque person – we are still defining it). I am editing it to both redact names and such, as well as adding more information because I think it needs to … Continue reading Through The Ghost
One of my alters is pulling away. My life and how it functions is untenable to who she is and what she needs. I love her, so much. So do a few other people in my life, those she has trusted enough to let in. I don't know what will happen now. I'm afraid. Not … Continue reading Little Girl Gone
Day 17: Something that feeds your soul. It is ironic and serendipitous that this should be the prompt that brings me back, and I slowly trudge my way out of a deep dark pit, crawling my way through the muck. I haven't had internet for months now. I am writing this on a semi functional … Continue reading #LoveMe Challenge Day 17: Something That Feeds Your Soul
Interesting take. I can relate to both sides of this, parent and child.
Summer 1974. I’m 9 years old. By 7:30 am, I’m up and out of the house, or if it’s Saturday I’m up and doing exactly what my father, Big Jerry, has told me to do. Might be raking, mowing, digging holes, or washing cars.
Summer 2016. I’m tiptoeing out of the house, on my way to work, in an effort not to wake my children who will undoubtedly sleep until 11 am. They may complete a couple of the chores I’ve left in a list on the kitchen counter for them, or they may eat stale Cheez-its that were left in their rooms 3 days ago, in order to avoid the kitchen at all costs and “not see” the list.
If you haven’t noticed, we’re getting a raw deal where this parenting gig is concerned. When did adults start caring whether or not their kids were safe, happy, or popular?…
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I am back on an old medication, but now at a higher dosage, and it's a doozy trying to get my body to acclimate to it. So, my sleep/wake cycles are completely fucked up at the moment, and I'm still a bit foggy. Life has also been so non-stop busy that I haven't found the … Continue reading Adjusting
Sometimes having too much to say turns into having nothing to say at all. An Anonymous Outsider