Visual Erotica

I don't log in to tumblr very often. Now and then I get an email alert and I try not to let those sit unnoticed for too long, but I don't spend time catching up on my dash or checking my activity or keeping in touch with the people I connected with here as I used to. 

I just don't feel like I am the person I was when I started this blog. 

My mother died, I ended my relationship, I had a bit of a breakdown, things got complicated, and in the midst of therapy and Christmas and antidepressants and heartache and tears letting go of unicorns and rainbows I had so much that I wish I could have shared, that I would have liked to pour out into the ether and hope to get something back, but I couldn't. 

I'm not that person anymore. That person who was a survivor and living and exploring and trusting and feeling and experiencing all of those intense intimate things. That Alli who was playful and spirited and confident and knew herself. She doesn't exist anymore. What's left is all sorts of broken and confused and tangled and alone. I haven't given up. I'm working on it, working on me, trying to understand me. 

See the real truth is that Alli never really existed in the first place. I never really was that confident or content or secure. We are all a collection of selves that we put on and take off like clothing, all depending on the circumstance and the context, all in order to be accepted. That projection of who I was helped me move on after ending an abusive relationship. It was who I needed to be, it was who I thought I would be once I moved on. 

But in focussing so much energy into being who thought I'd be once I moved on, I never really got to put in the work of actually healing and moving on. All smoke and mirrors and I didn't have the resources to keep up the act. 

The man I was with - that wonderful man I called Sir and Master and Daddy and was with for over a year. That man who stood by me no matter how I growled our scratched or pushed him away. The man who still loves me even after I almost begged him to tell me he didn't - he told me a while ago he had been back on this blog reading through old posts and remembering how things were. It hurt to hear him say that - he didn't mean to hurt me, I know - because for me it was a reminder that I can't come back, I can't be this person again or anymore. The spell is broken. 

I'm very thankful for all I did share here and all the connections I did make. I am thankfull for the SCC and the wonderful people who stepped in when I couldn't keep up. I am thankful for everyone who participated. I am thankful it was bigger than me and went beyond me and keeps going because of all of you who participate. 

This will be my last entry here. I'm not going to delete my blog - the words are my memories and I want them to stay safe until I know what to do with them - but I won't be posting anymore. I'll still check in when/if I get alerts, but it won't be frequent. I'm sorry that this means cutting off contact with a lot of the people I've met, but it's been months and time online moves fast - I figure I've already neglected you too much as it is. 

Thank you for giving me an outlet and letting me share my thoughts and my words and my experiences. Thank you for commenting and messaging and having the conversations with me. Thank you for giving me a place to be. 

I know, it's been more than forever since I updated. Things are...complicated...and difficult...and seem so backwards and inside out from when I started this blog a year ago. 

I'm taking an indefinite hiatus. I'm not going to delete anything because there's way too much of my heart and soul on here, but for now I can't keep adding to it. I can't share myself because things are just too tangled and messy to sort through, and writing sexy captions to sexy images just feels impossible.

1. SATURDAY

2. Coffee

3. sexyfuntimes

4. FLUFFY KITTEN

5. facepaints = I AM A KITTY

6. home made marshmellows

I'm sad. Sad in a way that I almost don't feel. It's not an emotion, it's a state of being that I've learned to carry with me. Not depression, not really, and I think one step removed from grief. The sadness is part of moving on, part of accepting reality as it is. 

It's ok to be sad. That's what I'm realizing. It's ok to be sad and still carry on with life. It's ok to be sad and still laugh and smile and even find joy. One doesn't have to cancel out the other. The sadness doesn't keep me prisoner all alone in the dark, it's gentle and comforting in it's own sort of way. 

There are a thousand things I could write about. Actually I thin that's why I haven't written the last week or so. Too many things to say. Too much to sort though. I'm not really going to try and recap what's happened, not right now. I'm sure it will come out in bits and pieces. 

I've been collared for over a year now. The anniversary sort of got swallowed up between the funeral and scattering my mother's ashes. We didn't get to celebrate the way either of us would have liked. It still amazes me that I have Master, that he chose me, keeps choosing me, I'm not sure how I would have gotten through this without him. 

The distance has been hard. It always was, but it was sort of there in the background. Grieving made it tangible - the ache to feel his touch. Throw in grief and stress and it was all a mess. At one point I was so angry - angry because he wasn't there to seem e grieve. There's so much we take for granted, the little bits of non-verbal communication that you just can't make up for through text no matter how hard you try. My moods were up and down so much it was hard for me to keep up with how I was feeling, let alone communicate it with him. 

Even with the distance, Master and I are close to a 24/7 dynamic. Not in terms of protocol - we're playful and relaxed like any other couple - but it's still there. This undercurrent, he is Master, I am submissive. Any moment we can tap into that. Before this turmoil I had read about couples who set D/s roles and expectations aside in times of crisis, and I never understood that. I always thought that having that dynamic would be so helpful and comforting. 

I didn't realize how hard it would be. 

For a time, I couldn't be his submissive at all - there was just too much going on. Too much to sort through. My time has been much more limited. On one hand I felt guilty I couldn't live up to what I was "supposed" to be doing (my expectations, not his), on the other I was just so empty that I couldn't even imagine how I could fill that role. 

Most of our time together I'm full on little mode. I don't want to think about work or responsibilities or stress or my father or anything. I just want to let it all go. He is a wonderful Daddy and lets me. Not just lets me, he enjoys it and savours it and creates a safe place for me where I can do that and not feel guilty or silly or irresponsible. He's taken such good care of my heart through this all, it's amazing. 

It's hard to process through things. Being back at work and back into life like normal feels wrong and unreal and disconnected. Being at home with my dad feels just as strange. Everything feels just a little off and foggy, like those vivid dreams that leave you confused when you wake up. 

It's been hard. Emotional and busy and stressful and hard. Sometimes it hits me like a bullet through my chest and I just sob. Sometimes I'll be laughing and it even hurts to be happy. Sometimes a memory hits me and I'm awed and amazed by what a wonderful person she was. 

The notes I've gotten have been wonderful. You're all so kind and supportive - thank you. It's hard having so many close connections to people but them being so far away. I am a physical person - I touch and hug and cuddle the people who are close to me. I'm so glad I have people in my life I can do that with, but I am missing people now. 

It's been especially hard with Master. Being aware of that distance. I'm glad he's as strong as he is. Strong and wise and patient. Strong enough to not let go of me when I tried to push him away. Missing someone is hard. It leaves an empty spot in your heart and soul and life. The thought of missing two people I love - two holes, two sets of arms I couldn't feel around me - it almost broke me. It did break me, but he helped put me back together again.