How Do I Love Myself?

It's a little known observation that in the past, I have a food addiction. When I'm anxious, or sad, I usually go for something sweet, something fast foodie and binge.... and when things are really bad? I swing in the complete opposite direction and only eat one meal a day, usually dinner.

I've been running on a cup of coffee in the morning and "dinner" at night for a little while now. This weekend I barely could get myself out of bed. Hell, I wouldn't even be drinking coffee if it wasn't the reason I set up to get myself out of bed.

Why have I let myself get to this place? What great boulder did I place in front of myself to stun me so? Well, simply it has been through self-actualization. Logically, if you dig deeper into your emotional bank of goodies, you will discover the seeds, the points of origin. And once those seeds have been struck, they seem to blossom outwards, vibrating with paralyzing vulnerability. At my core, two tender seeds have been struck:

Self-Love

&

Self-Acceptance

My brain cannot form what is going on, other than healing is taking place. I am cognizant that I need to allow the shifts that are occurring to happen. That I just need to allow my own radiant self-love, my own infinite self-acceptance to occur. That forgiveness is essential and I cannot move forward until I let go. Until I tell that scarred, frightened beyond words little girl inside of me that she is OK. That she is safe and that the adult me has got her back. Because Love is eternal. Because God is the Infinite and cannot ever stop or die or be limited by anything. Because the past is the past and placing fault upon myself or others does me no good now.

Shock

I'm pretty sure the state that I'm in is best described as angry as fuck shock. Hollow, numb panic too. I assume responsibility for some of the things that have occurred but I'm pretty sure that I am dealing with WAY MORE than what any 26 year old should be dealing with all at once. It's not all bad and, trust me, I'm surprised at how well I've been holding it all together. And after I had my cry/ies (oh, and called the church's prayer line like four times this morning -- not including my own mantras and prayers I've been doing) I can already numbly accept how this is can better me. How I've learned to set limits and priorities that are in line with my core beliefs and in harmony with how I want my life to be.

No one can say I'm not a quick study.

There's a saying in my spiritual community that basically says that if you're praying / living in accordance with/for something and pretty much the exact opposite happens or you are confronted with a great deal of unpleasantries... Well, that just means that you're letting go of the fear/ block to receive the thing your soul most wants. And you know, keep the faith and don't lose momentum. Miracles happen and all that.

Here's to miracles and faith, my friends.

TMI Tuesday: Aug 20, 2013

I recently found the TMI blog through (now) unknown general blog hopping. I am so so sorry for not being able to remember / promote the hilarious blog I first read it from. These things happen with me. Aaaanyhoo, I'm a whore for these things and I'm going to start playing along dang nabbit! FORWARD AND SO FORTH!!!

1. I once overheard in a bathroom, “There is nothing as over-rated as sex or under-rated as a good bowel movement.” Discuss.
   Oh that poor soul. Clearly whoever coined this phrase has not experienced good sex and has never been sick or constipated. Taking the body for granted, methinks. 



2. Friendship lasts longer than cumming. Which of your online friends that you’ve never met would you like to meet in real life? Which do you think you could become life-long REAL friends with? Actual friends, like going out to coffee and movies with, gossiping with, kissing on the forehead, hugging, loving?
I would absolutely adore to meet Desi Daasi. If possible, I'd love for her and Swami to "kidnap me" and drag me to India if they visit relatives or something. I can't really describe my level of fan-girl for India (as a complete white girl from So. Cal.), but I have always felt really close to the culture and have had beautiful friendships with Indian transplants in the past. Add M/s to the mix and I'm kind of in Heaven! Bre is most likely the one that I could see having a drink with and meeting for chats, etc. She has got to be one of the sweetest I've err... read about? For someone so young she's got the innocence of her age, yet the wisdom of awesometown. Both ladies rock, either way!



3. In a parallel universe, who out of your blog or Twitter followers would you most like to spend a steamy evening with? What would you do? Why them?
Hahahaha! Oh, that's too funny. None. I'm really bad about fantasizing about things that couldn't come true or are sexually unattainable. The question is kind of a turn-off for me, actually.



4. (multi-part question)
• a. What method of stimulation (intercourse, oral, manual, toy, whatever) gives you the strongest orgasm? 
Intercourse usually does the best, but I can't rely on it alone. Variety is the spice of life and all that. What works best is another human kissing, licking, biting, pinching, etc in all the right ways. I mean, I've orgasmed from a guy going to town on my neck once. When I fantasize about it now I add a few sharp slaps to my cunt for good measure. Because that's just how I roll. 

• b. With what method of stimulation do you get the most orgasms? 
Anything? I always have little mini-ones, but I don't know if I'd classify them as "orgasms" anymore. I mean, after finally figuring out what works for me (being Dominated) and OhemgeeTHAT'Sarealorgasm?!?! I like the everything package. What can I say? I'm playing catch-up for lost pleasure. 
c. If the answer to a is different from the answer to b, what’s wrong with your life? Dude, what? I take umbrage to the phrasing of the question regardless. 



5. Would you rather have a life where you only had sex once a year for 2 minutes or where you have to have sex, every day for a minimum of 2 hours?
I love playing "Would You Rather!" And frankly, this one is disappointing so I'm switching it up a bit! New question: "Would you rather have sex once a year for a minimum of 12 hours or where you have sex everyday, but only for 2 minutes?" I'm taking the everyday sex either way. :P

Bonus: 
Is there anyone on your partner’s side of the family you find hot? If you could hook up with them without anyone finding out (ever!) would you?
I was never attracted to any of my ex's families. When I was younger I was attracted to my 3rd cousin, twice removed (or something like that). That is, until the whole "it's your family thing" kicked in.


If you would like to join in to TMI Tuesday, just go to the TMI Tuesday blog and see who else participated, or participate yourself!

Brain Dump

This is a pretty empty post, I will not lie. This weekend, while eventful in my head, what outwardly very, very sloth-like. Seriously, I looked and felt like a couch potato/ mildly depressed teen staying in bed / pajamas most of the day. And yeah, the mildly depressed part is accurate, I can admit it. Everyone has those kinds of days.... or weeks.... or whatever. To each their own and all that.

Anyway, Mondays are actually one of my favorite days. They give me a sense of new, of opportunity. As paralyzed and stuck as I have made myself over golly knows how long... I detest idleness. When I worked full-time and had a M-F schedule, weekends felt so gross to me because I didn't reach out and create fun, productive days (also, any doctor's, contacts, etc, that I needed to reach were CLOSED. Don't they use the 50 hr work week that I did?). But hey, now is not then and now I can have the attitude of: Today is Monday, today is a blank slate. Today I can be grateful for the mini-recuperation, the opportunity of emotional awareness. I can be super grateful to learn that, "oh, that's why I reacted that way. Oh that's how I forgive myself."

You know, the little things.

It's weird, as I have been changing my thinking and learning to not only acknowledge what I have been doing lately, but I instead use the events before me to my advantage. In my eyes, if it can get me to be more compassionate, to see God in EVERYTHING, I can mostly accept being my own personal guinea pig without grumbling (hey, I'm not perfect). And hey, who cares if right now -- today -- I'm really starting my day at noon? I can't -- I WON'T -- harp on myself. I'm just going to do the best that I can and feel good about myself. Because feeling genuinely good about myself makes me more productive, happy, and a way more helpful person to the world.

Also:

Happy Monday Folks!

Slipping into Old Habits

I haven't handled this week as well as I would like and I have noticed that I have been slipping back into myself, stuffing my feelings as a result. The problem, at its base core, is that I cannot seem to properly express myself and it has led into some fierce negative self-talk, resulting in making myself feeling like pond scum (or at the very least deep sea dweller. Have you seen those crazy fish? They glow!). And you know what? I hate it. Not just the situation(s) that I am learning from, but from this emotional flagellation of myself.

It started early in the week with my increasing inability to, well, successfully orgasm during masturbation. I respond best to physical experiences or memory recall of something that truly happened to make my alone time that much more pleasing. Somehow, in my mind, if I can recall how a hand feels against my skin, or how the air seems to grow blissfully heavy with lust when I am looked at a certain way... I can trick my body to give me the release I need. But we all know my only frame of reference and that just sucks balls. Bonus? I can't run to give me the masochistic release of that sweet pleasure-pain.

While we're on the subject of my fitness level, or more specifically my knee, I'll let you in on a little secret: I've been getting pissed as all fuck because of it. I've been in constant pain since last week. Basically, it's been like a migraine or menstrual cramps -- sure, I can pop Ibuprofen like its candy to dull it, but that's just a cover-up. Result? I feel like I'm being Chinese water tortured to death with this thrumming undercurrent of pain that zaps me of energy pretty quickly. And the anger is fueling me the rest of the way. I might just have gone bonkers from that alone by now. Scratch that, I'm pretty sure a few screws have come loose.

The other thing that's been gnawing at me is this: I'm going back to college. Or at least trying to. And in this minefield of insecurity that I have, confessing to my mother has resulted in her being about as helpful as Gladys Kravitz. I recognize she's trying to check in, but when I have no news to give other than "yes, I did do xyz." or am unable at this time to be all ra ra ra to MYSELF about what's going on (for fear of failure) I don't feel I can be successful in answering her questions. But what happens when I express this to her? I got the guilt trip of the century. "When you're closed off like this it makes me feel like I'm the worst parent in the world. Can't you at least try?" I mention how uncomfortable it makes me. "Well, can't you at least try?" And when I curtly tell her about it being informative, apparently that's her cue to ask 20 questions. 

Conclusion?

*snark*

Private Moments: Flirting with Red

It happened naturally. I had brushed the contact solution from my lashes and on a whim curled them with my mother's discarded device. But when I looked at myself that morning, I felt the urge... my eyes were missing something. My hand rummaged in the carefully placed makeup bag in the bottom dresser drawer. The smooth glide of the zipper sent an electric thrill up my arm. It seemed like nothing, yet felt like my little secret. A light black film coated my lashes with each quick stroke -- one... two.. switch. Top and bottom. I blinked and enhanced my eyebrows; something was still missing. My eyes flicked to the bag. Resting gingerly at the top was my most coveted item: bright red lipstick. 

I'm not a girl who normally wears makeup. Chapstick is about as close as I can get. I'm not opposed to others wearing it, in fact I always associated makeup (done right, not caked on) as a form of self care, a way to be feminine -- to the point of idolizing old Hollywood actresses with the dramatic look. Alas, no matter how much I flirted with it, or what I tried... it never stuck. My face felt too suffocated, or the mascara would bother my contacts, or in the case of the red lipstick ... I never felt that bold. 

My mentality towards myself has obviously been changing, and as a result, my physical appearance has slowly been shifting. My body is gradually leaning out, my hair got a dramatic change (I got BANGS!), and, now, rich accents on my face. I feel sexy, empowered, and I feel naturally drawn to things that will reflect that. Other things, too, are culminating for my success and I am tentatively giddy about those as well. 

I will admit, in this buried corner of the community, a sly smile picks at one side of my face as I think of my wrists restrained behind my back, hair mussed, and red gloss covering my Master's* cock. 

*sorry to get your hopes up, but as of 8/12/13 I still do not have a Master. :P

A Prayer (4)

Oh Lord,

I am so grateful for this moment, this exact second of consciousness to be present. I am so blessed to be as aware of the beauty of the Universe, right here and now. I breathe Your holy nature, letting Your peace flow and expand in my chest. Mmm yes, I am so grateful for this awareness, knowing there is no separation from the Infinite. To know and be seeped in this knowing, this eternal love. I accept this abundant, overflowing presence of God into my life touching all areas of my life, releasing all perceptions of lack in my life. I raise my hands to the heavens and shout, "I am a reflection of God! God is the Infinite! God is good and provides all!" And in this moment I am certain of it. Because I affirm this for myself I know that the Holy love, joy, and prosperity envelopes all souls, all realities, all points in time where there is perception of lack and undoes any unrest. In this knowledge I release my word into the Law, the majestic Infinite, as the Universe says "YES!" and is returned to me multiplied beyond my imagination. 

And so it is. 

Amen.

Personal Growth is a Bitch

I say this with love and, trust me, now that my little freakout is over, I have more respect for the process than ever but all the same...

Personal Growth is a BITCH

When we last left our intrepid vixen, she was facing off a most formidable foe -- her fears actualized before her. She had tools on her side, a training area of sorts, filled with strengthening exercises from multiple senseis and access to some pretty kick-ass weaponry. It was going well out on the battlefield between her and her nega-self. Each slash brought her closer to victory, but ho what is this? A trickery of the eye as her enemy seemed to grow larger with each gaping wound! The beast before her groaned and a deluge of spittle and blackened blood oozing slowly out of its gashes showered our sassy heroine.

She could not help it, a scream ripped out of her throat. Pure terror rang across the field, shaking her very soul. Fueled by instinct and old habits, she ran. Tears flowed freely from her eyes blurring her vision, but that did not stop her momentum. She did not stop to hear if the beast had followed, she felt its old blood seep through her skin, feeding from her fear. It was with her, vibrating out, filling her with dread. At last there was a river and her footsteps slowed. Clothes and all she entered the water, her salty tears escaping into the flowing stream.

The water was clear, the current gentle. It pulsed in time with her heart and soon her breath slowed to match its perfect nature. The tears abated, and her enemy's blood was washed away. The thoughts, the dread that had been gnarled inside her mind, the raw fear that had suffocated her heart began to lessen. With each breath she became more aware of the unity of her and her surroundings, of the Infinite nature of her true being. Reminded of her real kick-assery, she tentatively stepped out from the stream.

She was herself. And she was ready to conquer.

And so, she walked back to the battlefield. Instantly the beast turned to her, eyes large with lust. Although still yards away its rancid breath stung her eyes. As if it were a vase of beautiful flowers, however, she closed her eyes in serenity and breathed deep. Then, her stance broad, arms bent at her sides with hands curled into fists, she smiled.

"You are pure," our vixen said to the beast. "You are a tool to be utilized and mastered and I thank you for your presence. I release the power I have let you have over my life and recognize the truth. I am willing to stand and fight for my well-being."

The beast charged, a lumbering affair that could only be described as comical. Our heroine flexed and relaxed, ready to strike. Each blow she administered was delivered with ease and soon the size of her foe diminished. Before long it was a panting heap on the ground. While it might never be fully defeated our sexy siren walked away from her fears confident and ready to continue her journey, her training for the betterment of her livelihood.

Step by Step

For a little while now, I've been seeing a psychotherapist. For the past month, week after week, I've had surprising sessions. Revealing sessions where I've broken down and shocked myself at my deep emotions. True burning hatred, sorrow, and regret have brought me to tears each week with long-buried fears. It's helped me to be aware of just how frightened I am, dreams I thought I had buried, people I thought I had forgiven and showed me how paralyzed I've made myself. How emotionally I've fixed my life upon my 8-9 year old self and the resulting tragic loop.

The funny thing is, now that it's out... I've been getting pretty good at the "day by day" thing. I've silenced the perfectionist/ "not good enough" voice in my head, for the most part. I've felt... normal. Everyday I have been facing a little bit of these fears, riding out whatever comes up and apparently the Universe thinks I can handle MORE than just what has come up in session. Two events happened over the weekend, one striking deep into my most sensitive insecurity and the second forcing me into a form of action.

I admit it, I checked out this weekend. Hell, I'm fairly certain I manifested a MASSIVE migraine as a way to hide for a number of hours. And even this morning has been bumpy. My insides feel twisted and each simple task forward leaves anxiety in its wake.

But each step is a lesson in mind mastery. It is a boot camp of self-discipline.

And that's all it takes, for now, is a simple step forward. One at a time.