EEEHU + Scenes From A Hypnotic Skype Call 3/29/20
This is a writing about my weekend. This is a writing about EEEHU, and a writing about a Skype date. They are very different in tone, but inevitably interconnected. This is a writing I debated on doing -- on how to express it, and whether or not I should share it.This is a writing that starts very hard, but gets easier.
I was a part of two classes on Saturday. I thought that would be easy; I had been kicking myself for not submitting more and was very close to deciding to put on an unconference class.
It was not easy.
I didn't sleep well that night, and haven't been sleeping well in general. Since shifting my work, I felt like my sleep should be pretty stable, since I work on my own schedule now. But I've been staying up late and waking up early. It's a bad pattern, and it was the second day in a 5hr sleep cycle.
I was already drained, and I had a lot to juggle to get everything running smoothly Saturday morning. It was taxing and I was exhausted. I was snapping at stupid things, uncharacteristically. I kept saying, with forced glee, "It's just like a real con! I'm sleep deprived and stressed!"
But once we got started, the first class with MrDream went well, and I enjoyed it. The audience was incredibly generous towards both him and me. I was so pleased at how many people were getting information and how many people said that they loved my trance face, although I had to force down a little bit of juvenile bitterness that we couldn’t just monopolize the class with play and go as hard as we usually do. There were 140ish people in the class -- a lot. We did Q&A to wrap up, and then I had to run to do tech testing for the podcast.
What I couldn’t do was give MrDream a hug after the class. What I couldn’t do was walk down the hotel hallway to see him and decompress. What I couldn’t do was hang around and chat with attendees in the lobby and in the con spaces.
I felt that immensely, stinging, but I had to push it down, because I had more to do.
The podcast, despite some inevitable technical issues, went well enough. By that point, I was feeling incredibly drained, and hadn’t been able to eat more than some yogurt for the majority of the day because of feeling crappy from not sleeping. It went for 2 hours -- very long, and we had no breaks. I was on autopilot. I had a good time, but felt almost dissociated, far away from myself.
I turned off the meeting, and I was suddenly in my bed, alone, just with cc, waiting for the audio to save.
I could not go see MrDream. I could not go see my friends. I could not get a hug. I could not text someone to ask where the party was and then stay up until 4am doing hypnosis and talking bullshit.
I started crying -- not weeping, not choking out tears, but wailing, hard crying.
It was the build-up of nearly a month of not processing that life, right now, is different. I cannot see my loved ones. I cannot see my community. EEEHU was a monstrous effort by its organizers which I applaud, and am so dearly happy that so many people enjoyed it, but for me, it was a harsh reminder that it was not a con in the way that I needed, and that I will not get that in the foreseeable future.
And I can’t see MrDream.
Our 2-year dating anniversary was just over a week ago. We would have had a date, riled up from not seeing each other for a month, meeting near the vernal equinox, the change of seasons having become important to us. And then we would have seen each other at NEEHU, a week later.
Now I don’t know when I will see him again.
After keeping that fact so distant from myself, taking one day at a time, I was slapped in the face by it.
I cried. I cried so hard. I have not cried like that in months, maybe a year. It was the rawness of isolation, the feeling of tragedy, of separation.
After a few minutes of it, I stopped, because I didn’t want to dig myself into a hole I couldn’t get out of. I saw myself in a mirror, and saw the mascara running in streaks down my face -- an effect I’ve tried hard to achieve for kink and in scenes for my partners who enjoy tears.
I took out my phone and snapped a picture -- the picture I take for MrDream every day of myself when I feel particularly brainwashed. If this wasn’t such a clear sign of how brainwashed, how dependent, how addicted, how in love I am, then I don’t know what is.
He responded well.
I went to bed early, feeling like I had immensely screwed up in everything the entire day. Again I had trouble sleeping, but I was comforted by the knowledge that I would talk to MrDream on Skype, and woke up feeling still drained, but less raw.
Our call was, of course, what I needed.
It was not the kind of call where we dove headfirst into trance. We spent time decompressing and talking, the sort of relaxed conversation I’ve missed so much since not having long time together.
But when he shifted his tone, when I saw his eyes change so subtly, I felt it all, and I felt everything melt away, helpless to it.
--
This trance is so overwhelming, the lowness of his voice, the feather-light touch of it makes me feel as though this is so much more powerful than aggression, as though I am a fluid which yields so much more softly when given the most gentle pressure, and how weak I feel to that.
He talks about how I can feel myself melting into him and suddenly I feel it, I feel the way his body feels. How much he wants me. How much when even I think about him from far away, he feels it, unconsciously, the force of our connection, we can smell each other, we know the weight of each others’ bodies.
Sinking into him. Filled with him. Empty. Deep.
Going through vivid memories of us together, flashbacks to dates that I suddenly am able to access more effectively.
I weep in trance at how precious that is. I weep while aroused as he controls me, even as I feel myself totally slipping away. The tears stop quickly, leaving me with his control.
He is calling back to the podcast that I know he was there to listen to, using my words, using my ideas, the recognition that he is always paying attention.
When he snaps me up, I am a hypnotized wreck, I can’t talk. He has to snap me up again.
“My shoulders are doing the thing,” I say, smiling, finally. “My brain is doing the thing.”
Loosened, relaxed.
--
We talk about how much we miss each other. He future paces gently about what it will be like when we finally see each other. I cry a little bit again, and it’s the first time I’ve acknowledged this thing with tears in front of him.
We banter Erickson at each other -- our ultimate love language.
--
I’m amazed how quickly I fall away when his flirting shifts intent just slightly. I have been going deeper, I have been going away so much further and faster.
He turns me into a cow, all body, no brain, taking over everything. Dumb cow braincells making me all mouth, all pussy, all tits. Calling back to my fey memories, how holographic they are.
Flashback to his apartment and cumming on top of him.
“Feeling the way the light feels,” he says, and it triggers the exact memory of my thought, in his room, when he took something away from me permanently -- ‘I will never forget the way the light looks in this room at this moment.’
“And then fading away even from this much comprehension into the deepest trance.”
Just hypnosis, just mind control. The absolute feeling of that, the way it drugs me.
I am so close to nothing, he is draining me away… Again I have that sense that if he just pushes a little more, I would go, something would happen, I would be totally gone forever… Again, I flash back to another date, the solstice that I did not share, and how close I was…
“You’ve always been a dumb little girl, wanting this so badly…”
Another flashback…
And he wakes me up, and I just stare at him. He makes a whooshing sound.
“Boy, do I miss this,” he says, all low, so turned on. “Gonna shred you so bad.”
I say his name.
“I’m… somewhere,” I manage, softly.
“Me too,” he says.
I’m so completely focused on his face, so completely keyed into his expression, his eyes, just like I would be if we were together, just like I’ve been learning how to do over Skype after all this time.
“Are we just going to spend 15 minutes staring at each other now?” I whisper, locked onto him.
“If we were alone, do you think we would?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
We fix on each other, silently, and it is just like we are.
He makes another whooshing sound, and it breaks, and we both laugh a little.
“Well,” he says, “that was two minutes.”
--
“As if a candle can tell that it’s melting.”
I become an object, melting itself, lit by him, finally no longer a person, finally even more easy to exist as a vessel for his control.
“As if you are a candle in the dark night, dripping wax into your hand, thinking about spells and magic…”
Flashback to Samhain, and the frustration.
“Who we are when we are alone, when we are together, even if there are people around, no matter where, we are always in this other world where magic is happening to us both. Knowing we are always connected, knowing we always have this thing, and no one can stop it.”
Flashback to DMDW.
Flashback to flashbacks of DMDW.
Weeping, again, in deep, deep trance, feeling the magic bubble in my body and bubble where the air meets my skin, just for this one moment, so long since I’ve felt it and never over distance like this -- the magic that I will always question, the magic that seems unquestionable when I feel it and then dreamlike, it fades...
He counts me up, and I feel a tightness, and before 5, I whisper his name and ask to stay here, at 4.
--
I have looked at the picture of myself ever so often. The enormous emotional outpouring feels more distant now, and more manageable, but I don’t ever want to forget how hard that day was for me. I don’t ever want to take things for granted ever again.
It makes me so happy that I was able to have meaningful conversations and input at EEEHU, and help people learn, and watch people having fun. I wish I could have been more present, but I know I was doing the right thing by being at home, and not “at the con."
The hypnosis community is so incredibly important to me. I dedicated my first book to it, and surely I will do the same with my next. I believe I was meant to be here. If I believed in destiny, which I do not, I would say that it has been my destiny since I was a tiny little girl, confused and barely conscious of myself.
All I have to say is this: Take care of yourselves. Stay strong, but know you will fail sometimes. Cry. Laugh. Keep in touch.
I will be here.
--
@hypnokinkwithmrdream
