A Story for Another Day 1

Back in December 2021 I had some sort of full-on catastrophic, traumatic mental breakdown for me and everyone involved. It was Yulemas, which is a kind of Friendsgiving for Christmas time, at my then-boyfriend’s (now-Master’s) house. We had all spent the night drinking heavily. At one point, I was bent over a kitchen counter and punished with a honing rod as a pervertible. At another point, my then-boyfriend’s then-wife slapped me.

Safe to say it was a crazy night for us all but oh-ho-ho it was about to get so much worse. The Mistress leaves for the night and my then-boyfriend begins wailing on me. He takes one of the wine bottles and with me laying on the floor in front of him, pours wine down my throat. I drink as much as I can, though some got all over my hair and neck.

He proceeds to strangle me by the neck and hit my face over and over again. Blissful. Magical. But then he leaves abruptly with us in his living room and he and his then-wife in their bedroom.

I begin to sob. I’m inconsolable. He left me. He left me for her. Earlier that night, without discussing it with her then-husband, my metamour announced that she and my Master were trying for a baby. I was triggered beyond words thinking about how empty my life would be if he left me because of her. And what do I always do when I’m in emotional distress?

Run away.

Fast-forward to being tucked into bed a drunken mess, I manage to shake my husband and my Master and duck out of the house with no shoes on. It was a blustery, winter night after a day of rain. My socks were soaked in seconds as I rushed along the sidewalk towards…

What I was going towards didn’t matter. It was only going away that mattered. Away from all the hurt. I could go back. I knew it even in the strange, dreamlike feelings I was having. But first I needed to breathe and I couldn’t do that until I hid. I climbed an iron fence into a field of mud. Tiny burrs prickled my frozen feet as I stepped forward into the paddock as a horse trotted up to me.

She was white and gleaming in the moonlight as I stood dumbfounded. I had grown up around horses, so I held my hand out to her nose and slowly began patting her neck. She nuzzled into my back with her large jaw. I looked around for something to get on top of her with, thankfully there were not any stools.

To be continued…?

Challenging Your Negative Thoughts

The other night I was going about my usual routine and stopped to lay down for a few minutes. I had been going going going all day long and just needed a breather. But after a few seconds, my brain went into overdrive. My Master had walked by and seen me laying down.

I felt guilty. Unproductive. Lazy. I thought, “He must think I’m a POS.”

Normally, I would just get up and begin working on whatever again. This time, since starting therapy and actively checking the processes my brain has, I decided to ask. I challenged this idea that I am a lazy person by simply asking what he thought of me.

News flash: He said he thought I was very productive. Never once did it cross his mind that by taking a break I am unproductive or should hate myself. So, I just challenge all of you to do the same. Pay attention to the narrative your brain spins about you and ask questions.