SwirlingFire: Hanging in the Balance

Hanging in the Balance

June 2019 – That was a bitch of a month.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the strange tummy twirling.  I guess other people call them “butterflies” – it feels more thuddy than the usual ‘excited / nerves’ sensations.  I thought it was possibly hunger but, I think we both know that it’s not.  Ten days ago, I was practising writing with techniques used at a university “creative writing class”.  I thoroughly enjoyed the classes / lectures.

I was inspired to write free verse poetry using photo prompts.  Scrolling Twitter shortly afterwards, a professional writer (@sex blog of sorts) posted about a #365 daily writing challenge.  It piqued my interest as a realistic goal.  I think I produced some very average stuff.  I shared a few with ‘’MyEditor” but not as part of my blog.  I just go with the words thought and feelings to reach my goal word count.  I generally manage 150 to 185 words on first attempt with a blank page on the iPad.  A bit of people watching, drinking a mocha, then a few shorter bursts to hit the 365 word count.  I was quite pleased with myself that I’ve managed a structured approach to writing.

The day in question, was beautifully sunny so I started to write about being ‘in the moment’ – anyone that’s been in therapy knows the key phrases, several of which irritated the hell out of me as I felt “played” all over again. Yet that day, I was enjoying ‘the here and now”.  I was relatively happy, relaxed, enjoying the day and my non-alcoholic cold drink.  I could feel all my surroundings, the heat, my arse on the seat and my feet on the ground.  I could hear others conversations.  In the scheme of my daily existence, I was ‘safe’ .

Something about that piece of writing flowed effortlessly, a subconscious stream, I only realised what I’d written when I felt my eyes burning and I felt nausea rise, my heart was racing, I couldn’t breathe and I felt  faint.  I reached in my bag for tissues as I tasted vomit in the back of my mouth. 

The strangest thing happened next.  I felt as though I were a stringed puppet, being callously dangled.  I was shown a full mental recall of sights sounds and how my body was being assaulted.  Although I knew exactly what I was ‘seeing’, I was still aware of my surroundings.  It was an out of body flashback.  In the past I’ve only been given teeny glimpses into (horrific ) past events.  This was very different.  The last time something similar happened I was able to talk it through with “daddy mindWizard” – I have never felt quite so alone and scared as I did last week.  My first thought was to contact him.  I can’t do that now.  That’s what makes the recall and consequences all the more unbearable.  The only person I trusted in many years, with my life  – his hand around my throat – never cared about me or my safety at all.

In fact, it was due to him that all the buried memories that I’d been made to think were all my fault, were released. 

SwirlingFire: The First Scent of Fear

It hit home, even harder.  With a punch that lasted. 

———–

“…….Maybe this happens as a result of placing so much trust in someone. If you trust someone to tie you up until you have no more physical control, then it makes sense that you trust them to listen and offer sensible advice……” @lovelustlondon

https://londonloveandlust.blogspot.com/2019/07/authority.html?m=1&zx=3b3f643c85672f2b

(Quote used – with permission)

———

This one paragraph reinforces everything I thought was true and later learnt was a handful of well crafted and frequently used lies. I was never safe. 

Now I’m left stranded on the outside of everyone.  Too many memories that I can’t handle and can’t dump them anywhere as its too much for most to process and support.
Therapy journalling two years ago, turned into writing and finally blogging and a way to control my then erratic frustration from “Tw-Idiots”. 

I should’ve immediately told them to PhuqueOrf.  At the time, I was too embedded into a manipulated obedience mindset.  A planted reality.  Non consensual d/s instruction, not to ignore or be rude to others.  To prevent my thoughts and emotions spilling into real life.  Trying not to shred people that may not have (always) deserved my sharp tongue.

Hindsight has shown that most of them, in fact, did need swift dispatch. 

I’m still in two minds to release “that flashback “ piece of writing.  I could describe to readers exactly what it is like to be me.  Whether I should actually throw you into that time and place ?  It may haunt some for a while, my indecision remains.

For someone that has life decisions made for her via Kangaroo Courts  – this time, the irony, I have control.

Swirlingfire: A Posting History

@SwirlingFire 12 July 2019

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