Honesty is the Best Policy.
About two months ago, the pink poppet tagged me in the honest blogger meme and I kept putting it off. Then, Chloe recently tagged everybody, and Housewench tagged me the other day. I’m caving to the peer pressure!
So here I go. The rules are 10 truths and 7 tags.
These are hard for me. Not because I have trouble sharing, but because I think I’ve shared every single dirty detail of my life here at some point or another. There is bound to be repeated information here.
1. I’ve been sitting here for 47 minutes exactly and haven’t written a thing. This list could take hours.
2. I was a cutter before cutting was cool. Like 20-25 years ago. I had a little cutting set consisting of razor blades, kleenex, alcohol and bandages. (First time I saw Secretary and they showed the cutting kit, it was very surreal.) I’d go to the park or somewhere, open my kit and make one short, deep cut on the inside of my wrist. It was not a suicide attempt and any other cutters out there will know this.
My inner wrists are peppered with short, white scars. I haven’t done anything like that in years and years, since I was a teenager, and it’s something I have never admitted to or talked about with my kids. When they were little, too young to even understand anything like this, and they asked about my scars I fed them some b.s. line about putting my arms through a window and I’ve felt trapped in that lie ever since. I’m more ashamed of them knowing I’ve been lying to them for years than of them knowing I was a self-mutilator.
3. I don’t really have a lot of shame over having been a cutter. I used to, way back then, but now, knowing what I know about myself, clearly I was just a trapped masochist trying to scratch an itch. Now that my itches are scratched, I have no reason to carve myself up. Master does plenty of that for me. *beams*
4. I used to be a huge, honking slut. Like, srsly. A slut. I had no standards beyond “penis required”. Pick up men at the bar, go to parties and fuck some stranger, friends hooking me up as “an easy lay”. I just didn’t care. I couldn’t tell you how many men I’ve fucked. Lots. And lots.
And I was NOT safe about it either. That I came out of it with no diseases and no pregnancies is a fucking miracle.
5. Master was the end of my slut-phase. It wasn’t that he did or said anything to make it stop. I stopped because for the first time in my life I felt like I’d found what I was looking for, even though I had no idea I’d been searching for anything. It was instantaneous, too. A week before we met, I was probably in the bar hooking up with someone. A day after we met? Absolutely no desire for anyone but him. And haven’t had that desire (or need) since.
6. When I think back to my pre-Master days, the overall feeling that I have was that it was manic. Frantic, dissatisfied mania. Master is like a big freakin’ dose of Valium. Everything about my life since him is calm and soothing. Calm and soothing, given the nature of our lifestyle and the activities we get up to, only seems to highlight what a fucked-up character I used to be.
7. The severity of my pms (or pmdd, whatever), and the frequency of it, is starting to scare me. I know I need treatment. Master waffles on it. He agrees that it’s bad and getting worse, but he seems to think treatment would be worse than the pms itself. And since it’s his decision… yeah. In my opinion, treatment could not possibly be worse. He doesn’t feel/think the things I do. The worst part? Even after all this time and knowing that I have pmdd, I can. not. recognize. it. Not during. I never, ever make the connection until it’s over. I know how stupid that sounds but, I dunno, even having someone say to me “Tess, it’s just pms.” I would swear on my child’s life that it is NOT pms in the moment. In fact, hearing that will incense me further beyond rational thought than I already am. I can’t connect it. I can’t use that knowledge as a way to curb it. It is utterly beyond my control anymore.
8. I’m ridiculously insecure. I think everyone hates me. I think everyone tolerates me (for reasons I haven’t figured out yet) and they’re just too nice to tell me to bugger off. Sometimes this even extends to Master. Often I convince myself that he’s only with me because he’s a man of his word and he’s trapped himself by telling me that he will never leave me.
9. I’m a petty, vindictive, judgemental bitch. I realize this is not news, but I told you I was bound to repeat something in this list. Knowing this about myself makes it easy for me to indulge in the paranoia of number 8.
10. I like Cheerleader movies. There. I said it. The Bring It On collection, Fired up, Man of the House- they are just about as mind-numbingly stupid as movies can be- and I love them. *sob* I’m so ashamed!
Worse? Master likes them, too. *snicker*
This is the part I hate. Tagging. I’m gonna do a Chloe and tag everyone who wants to take part. Go and be one with the spirit cleansing activity of blog-confession.
Do it. Just do it.
Like
Uncategorized | kaya | 
Monday October 5th, 2009 7:38am
hiya,
“I can. not. recognize. it. Not during. I never, ever make the connection until it’s over. I know how stupid that sounds but, I dunno, even having someone say to me “Tess, it’s just pms.” I would swear on my child’s life that it is NOT pms in the moment. In fact, hearing that will incense me further beyond rational thought than I already am. I can’t connect it. I can’t use that knowledge as a way to curb it. It is utterly beyond my control anymore.”
just thought I’d de-lurk to let you know you aren’t alone in this! I know exactly how you feel and I always think ‘next time I’ll recognize it and get ahold of myself’ but I never do.
It’s so frustrating.
Anyway, I love your blog!
Yar! I have PMDD too! (It apparently calls for pirate noises. Huh.)
I literally turned into a different person that time of the month. Before Antonio, for various reasons, it just didn’t matter as much. (Plus I was on like 30 medications and one was a med that was used to treat PMDD off-label, and I was on it for being a nutcase in general, so I was self-medicating without realizing.)
But a slave who is an irrational, depressed, furious, insane bitch THAT often? Not cool, apparently. (Yeah, I know. I was shocked too.)
And SO SO SO many times he’s either just left me alone or said I’m being irrational and… In that moment? NO I DAMN WELL AM NOT! I’m hurt or upset and I have VALID reasons. In those moments I would swear on my life, and the lives of everyone around me, that I DO have rock-solid-and-would-stand-up-in-a-court-of-law reasons.
Primrose oil helped a bit. Ish. And it wasn’t a medication, just an herbal remedy. But going vegan? It dropped me from PMDD to normal-people PMS. It was un-fucking-real. I get crampy, bloaty, and teary. I get moments of anger, hostility, irrational thoughts, sadness, loneliness, etc. But that’s the difference. They are MOMENTS. They PASS. And, for the first time EVER, I’m able to recognize (yanno, sometimes) IN the moment that I’m just PMSing, and I can go sulk without becoming utterly convinced everyone hates me and nothing will ever be right ever ever ever again and I hate the world, ARGH, DEATH TO ALL.
It’s indescribably cool. I have been known to have those moments and then say, in a tone most people would reserve for announcing they won the lottery, “I have PMS! PEE EMM ESS! YAYAYAYAYAYAY!”
#8. Me too. Only I think I made it #10.
Also, the phrase “do a Chloe” is genius.
~Chloe, who is NOT biased. At all.
[rq=805453,0,blog][/rq]Viral
I know exactly what you mean with the PMS. I don’t even realize how hormonal I am until my husband makes a comment. Then I rip the poor guy’s head off and insist that “I really am this angry/depressed/upset, and to suggest that it’s just my hormones talking and that I don’t have a legitimate reason is extremely insulting, you insensitive fuck!”. Then I start crying and apologizing when I realize he was right all along.
Remember that cat macro you posted a really long time ago that had a lioness screaming a scared male, “I not haz PMS!”? I showed that to my husband, and now he’ll go, “I’m not a lion!!!” when I start to hormone rage.
I don’t know how he puts up with me. Seriously.
I think your Master is correct, though, and the treatments are worse than the PMS. I tried birth control and it just made the PMS worse (amazingly, that’s possible). I tried antidepressants and that was an awful experience. It killed my sex drive and will to live, plus it gave me a ton of horrible side effects. It’s been “easier” for the both of us just to let the PMS go untreated.
Ugh, I wish you both the best of luck in dealing with that issue.
It amazed…no *a.m.a.z.e.s.* me that you think no one likes you, Tess! OMG! I LOVE you! Srsly…even tho I’m a nilla, you, YOU, Tess, gave me the first names, inklings of what has lurked inside me for…well, hell,my whole life, I guess. And I’m hella older than you, woman! As to the pms…pmdd thing…I reacted in just that same way…total angry denial that it was happening. My cure? A hysterectomy, at 33. Turns out I had horrible destructive endometriosis, which explained why I bled 3 weeks out of the month, the pmdd, the overload of hormones…ugh. So, no easy answers for that one, just…hug. Know that you are truly liked, m’dear. Truth.
It’s not just “out there”…it’s here, too (Nilla thumps her chest, nods)
Nilla
ps off topic but…hell i’m on a roll here…saw a GIANT stack of Nilla Vanilla wafers at the grocery store on Saturday and laughed, out loud. Even the grocery store is callin’my name now, snicker! People were lookin; at me like i was weird, and er, maybe…naw!
[rq=807191,0,blog][/rq]Chains
I’m a meme whore, I’ll admit it. I went ahead and did it! Don’t know if you are interested, but here’s the link:
http://perfectviolet.livejournal.com/2889.html
I haft’a share! http://lolpics.se/?id=1185
Thank you so much for doing this and even more so for your honesty and sincerity…not to mention your humor. First, congrats on being honest enough to ‘put things out there’…many cannot do that. Also congrats on finally finding that thing you had been searching for without even knowing what it was, your Master who can scratch that insistent itch. I am happy that you have him in your life. I know you are also, duh! One of our daughters was also a teenage cutter for a while, and like you said, it was not in any attempt at suicide, was that she needed something else. As for PMS and being a, what did you call it..”a petty, vindictive,judgmental bitch”? Honey, in case you have not realized it yet, most every woman can be that at one point or another in her life. You are just one of the lucky ones that gets to demonstrate your talent more often. HAHA. Personally, I find your openness and honesty and unfiltered opinion refreshing and I like it. (Of course, I retain the right to take that shit back at a later date if you come after me-LOL). Last but not least, the movies…I am probably gonna get in trouble about this one, but I like and even my Sir likes some of those, like “Man of the House”. And if that is not bad enough (& I know I am gonna get it over THIS one)..one of his FAVORITE movies is a chick flick, “A Walk in the Clouds”.
And girl, regardless of what you might think, you are liked a lot by a great many people. Big hugs.
[rq=808815,0,blog][/rq]Microfantasy Monday-The Male Technician.
Also, just a (NON)creepy P.S.
I like you so much I’ve totally had dreams about you.
You can go mull that over while you attempt to block my email address. It’s cool.
~Chloe, super-honest and super-(non)creepy.
[rq=809061,0,blog][/rq]2012: It’s a Disaster!
*does it!*
[rq=809232,0,blog][/rq]The Mist
This is a thought I had when I read your scrap about PMS/PMDD… have you considered the idea that you might be going into premenopause? Maybe that’s why your symptoms are getting worse.
Ohhhhh and cheerleader movies… have you ever seen But I’m a Cheerleader? It’s HILARIOUS.
[rq=809626,0,blog][/rq]Microfantasy Monday – Breasts
I loved the original Bring it On. My favorite movie of that genre is “Stick it” which which is about gymnasts.
[rq=809964,0,blog][/rq]It’s The Little Things
There are many many diet changes and natural remedies that can help your pmdd without the need for chemical treatments. Everyone’s different, they work differently for everyone. Sometimes it’s just a matter of trial and error.
my daddy was the end of my sluthood, too. i don’t even have the swinger/poly urge with him, unless he somehow sparks it in me with ideas or suggestions.
also: i don’t realise i have PMS until it’s over either. and blaming my feelings on hormones just INFURIATES me, and then afterwards it makes me ashamed. i’m trying to figure out something someone could say that told me “it’s just pms” without actually saying “it’s just pms.” kind of like “gosh, i’m tired!” means “i’m ready to go home now.”
Kaya,
Since you tagged everyone, and I don’t know any other bloggers, I guess I’ll just do the truths. And since I don’t have my own blog, I’ll just hog some of your blog space. hehe
1: When I heard my dad died, I wasn’t upset or sad. It’s haed to feel grief for a man who was an abusive bastard. I am thankful I came to terms with it and made several attempts at reconciliation before it happened.
2: In spite of losing my virginity a year ago, I still haven’t completed an act of intercourse. I just can’t stay hard once the fucking starts. My doctor and I will be having a talk soon…
3: I think being kinky is making me less conservative. Certain stands I’ve taken in the past (anti-gay marriage for example) have gone by the way side.
4: While I love a well written erotic story, one with a good plot and such, when I’m horny, I just want a hot sex scene and to hell with the plot.
5: On my recent trip, I actually experienced a brief bout of curiosity about sex with another man. it squiked me out, but not as much as I expected.
6: While I love to teach, especially math, some days I just don’t want to face my students and try to get through to them because so many just don’t try.
7: I love to read children’s books for on my own; mostly because I know they’ll have a happy ending.
8: I find I hate being Mr. Nice Guy more and more. I’m increasingly upset at looking like I’m being taken advantage of.
9: I hate having diabetes and would love to go back to the way I was eating before.
10: I don’t because I’m afraid, not of dying from it, or losing a leg to infection; but from losing my eyesight. Blindness is the single most terrifying thing I can imagine living with.
Well, there you go, more truths about me, probably more than you needed to know.
Dave
Dave…
how come you don’t have a blog? You have interesting insights, and are funny! I’d love reading a blog from you!
Nilla
[rq=824655,0,blog][/rq]Cover me..
Nilla,
Honestly, I haven’t thought that anyone would be interested in anjything I had to say; along with worrying about how much time it would take. I certainly don’t know anything about html or creating a web page. But, if I thought there’d be enough interest, I’d considder it.
Dave
First, kaya, please excuse Dave and I as we usurp your blog!
Dave, truly, if *I* can create a blog, anyone can. I am just not that computer savvy. WordPress is the format I chose because it is easy (although I have do havea vanilla blog on Google, I don’t ever want my wife to find out about my…er…chocolate desires–we use google for a lot of our things and I didn’t want to take a chance.)Google’s blogger is very easy to use as well, but I have been amazed at how easy wordpress is to set up. Go ahead, give it a shot! (is it appropriate for a sub-wannabe to double-dog-dare you?!)
Nilla
[rq=828015,0,blog][/rq]Trreasure