(no subject)
Dec. 24th, 2009 05:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silentwatersI find it to be a terrible flaw somewhere in my character that the more frustrated I am, the more my sexual mind gravitates to strongly non-consensual scenarios. To further confuse things, I seem to be the dominant and the submissive at the same time, or flip between them so rapidly it's hard to tell the difference. I guess it's no surprise that if I'm in a darker mood, my thoughts overall trend more darkly. But the truth is, in real life, I'd never hurt anyone or take someone by force, nor would I like anyone to rape me, and I don't take rape as a joke. I don't buy into "rape culture" or whatever. I don't use it as a slang term and I never will; I don't have much of a sense of humor about real sexual crime.
But with me and the private world inside my head, I think... it's less about... being made to do something against your will, and more about being made to acknowledge that which you already will, but have had to cover up with layers and layers of resistance and denial for whatever reason.
And the more I need release, I guess, the more I fantasize about the level of difficulty required to obtain that release, as if to try and work out in my mind what it would possibly take now to break me down to that level of pure abandon-- and the bad part is I don't know what in the world could make it happen now. Scenes get harder and darker as I search down... I've noted violence has come into play recently, and I don't know why, and I don't like it. Normal, vanilla, romantic scenes are still just as likely to send shivers down my spine and make me close my eyes in bliss for an imaginary moment, and these darker scenes' orgasms are not more powerful, per se, but why is my mind going there? I feel angry at myself afterwards. Or maybe it is because I feel angry at myself that I am punishing myself in these fantasies.
There is nothing in my day-to-day life that even approaches me with anything that looks like a key, these days. The last good ....not "sex" but mutual partner-present masturbation I had was 8 months ago. Didn't even get any on my wedding night- as Mother Nature paid her monthly call before dinner was over, the bitter bitch. So yeah. This year has not been fun, and last year wasn't much better. After years of trying to keep myself in check, I'm locked down like a secret military base- so much so that some of my friends are surprised at my facility with suddenly flirting (in character) when they've known me almost a year now and I'm sure I must appear as the least sexually aware/sexually attractive being on earth to them. Because I have been downplaying that part of myself for so long. But it's still all there. It's still haunting me. I'm just waiting for a compelling enough reason to let go.
And now that the brain has taken precedence over the body for so long, the gates are high and the locks are all rusted shut.
Sometimes I'm afraid no one will ever let me out of my cage again. So I guess I make up stories where I'm forced out of it instead.
Or something.
It's not how I really want it to be- it's just how it has to be for now. If that makes any sense.
There's still that innocent sweetheart inside me that just wants to be snuggly and playful. But she's practically anorexic. Maybe things on that front will improve after the next surgery. I am really hoping for that small aspect to come back, anyway.
God. I know there are two sides to every story and he must be feeling at least some of what I'm feeling. Maybe not in the exact same way but- I don't mean to imply I'm the only one suffering here. This is only my diary, not his. But for some reason it's not cool to talk about it right now. And I'm kind of going stir crazy I guess, as I face down sucking it up, taking a cold shower, and moving on for the 1,497,621 time.
Goddammit, I'm restless. I actually smoked and masturbated twice tonight (for the first time in... I don't know how long, I can't remember the last time) in desperate hopes that it would help me sleep, but here I am, almost 6 am, and I couldn't shut my eyes if there was a gun to my head.
(well. I was going to run away to a bar and stay there all night; the former vices seemed like a more feasible alternative. Shut the fuck up, I'm not usually this irresponsible.)
Mneh.
Best I just stay up for work now and come home and nap this afternoon.
But with me and the private world inside my head, I think... it's less about... being made to do something against your will, and more about being made to acknowledge that which you already will, but have had to cover up with layers and layers of resistance and denial for whatever reason.
And the more I need release, I guess, the more I fantasize about the level of difficulty required to obtain that release, as if to try and work out in my mind what it would possibly take now to break me down to that level of pure abandon-- and the bad part is I don't know what in the world could make it happen now. Scenes get harder and darker as I search down... I've noted violence has come into play recently, and I don't know why, and I don't like it. Normal, vanilla, romantic scenes are still just as likely to send shivers down my spine and make me close my eyes in bliss for an imaginary moment, and these darker scenes' orgasms are not more powerful, per se, but why is my mind going there? I feel angry at myself afterwards. Or maybe it is because I feel angry at myself that I am punishing myself in these fantasies.
There is nothing in my day-to-day life that even approaches me with anything that looks like a key, these days. The last good ....not "sex" but mutual partner-present masturbation I had was 8 months ago. Didn't even get any on my wedding night- as Mother Nature paid her monthly call before dinner was over, the bitter bitch. So yeah. This year has not been fun, and last year wasn't much better. After years of trying to keep myself in check, I'm locked down like a secret military base- so much so that some of my friends are surprised at my facility with suddenly flirting (in character) when they've known me almost a year now and I'm sure I must appear as the least sexually aware/sexually attractive being on earth to them. Because I have been downplaying that part of myself for so long. But it's still all there. It's still haunting me. I'm just waiting for a compelling enough reason to let go.
And now that the brain has taken precedence over the body for so long, the gates are high and the locks are all rusted shut.
Sometimes I'm afraid no one will ever let me out of my cage again. So I guess I make up stories where I'm forced out of it instead.
Or something.
It's not how I really want it to be- it's just how it has to be for now. If that makes any sense.
There's still that innocent sweetheart inside me that just wants to be snuggly and playful. But she's practically anorexic. Maybe things on that front will improve after the next surgery. I am really hoping for that small aspect to come back, anyway.
God. I know there are two sides to every story and he must be feeling at least some of what I'm feeling. Maybe not in the exact same way but- I don't mean to imply I'm the only one suffering here. This is only my diary, not his. But for some reason it's not cool to talk about it right now. And I'm kind of going stir crazy I guess, as I face down sucking it up, taking a cold shower, and moving on for the 1,497,621 time.
Goddammit, I'm restless. I actually smoked and masturbated twice tonight (for the first time in... I don't know how long, I can't remember the last time) in desperate hopes that it would help me sleep, but here I am, almost 6 am, and I couldn't shut my eyes if there was a gun to my head.
(well. I was going to run away to a bar and stay there all night; the former vices seemed like a more feasible alternative. Shut the fuck up, I'm not usually this irresponsible.)
Mneh.
Best I just stay up for work now and come home and nap this afternoon.
