What IF?

I have so many what if’s. What if I never got fat? What if I decided to go to real college? What if I never chose drugs? What if I could have been real when it mattered?

Over the many years I’ve been ‘studied’ I have been diagnosed with depression, manic/depressive disorder, OCD and I’ve been scoped out for schizophrenia regularly…  Doctors test my blood because they think I have worse diseases.

I don’t.  With every problem I have? Nothing is but my own.

I don’t take big pharma meds for any of it. WHY? Because my digestive health issues make me unable. Those meds would kill other parts that are only barely functional.

I know this. So I try, when I am not couchbound, to get my exercise. I take vitamins and eat healthy. I try to find ways to laugh and smile every day. I try.

Today, while feeling couchbound, I watched a new series on Netflix. Atypical. GREAT show.  But is has me questioning.

I have struggled my entire life with my mental health issues. They were treated with meds to no end. I had surgery that made it I can’t take the meds. Now I just try to survive.

But what if the reason meds don’t help are because I have slight autism? NOT OCD. NOT manic/depressive. What if I am just old enough to miss the mark on being diagnosed and all those big pharma meds made me worse before I stopped taking them for other reasons?

I have other issues related to vaccines.  After I was born? I was taken to a reserve north of Churchill, MB. I got shot with ‘reserve’ vaccines with a dirty needle. Scars to prove it.

What if… just if? What if the fact I am so fucked in the head isn’t just my being born a mental defect? Maybe some is from the Agent Orange my father got in the Vietnam war? Maybe some of it is vaccines?

My mom went through German measles with me and was told I would be born without limbs. She was told to abort me. And to be truthful? I don’t think she ever wanted children. I’m glad she allowed me to survive.

I have never been wanted by this world.

Just what if? Because, I have survived all that. Started out not getting aborted. Survived bad vaxxing with battle scars. Made it through so much abuse. I LIVE with my ‘dis’abilities and make it every fucking day!

I’ve been accused of being so many things. Terrorist, Crazy. Slut.

But what IF I am just a survivor?

Advertisements

You Can Call Me….

I’ve always had a thing for role playing. This is similar but with a narcissistic, cunty edge.

I’ve blogged about being back seeing my ex. I don’t make that public on Facebook or to my family, etc. (except I post my blog to Facebook so a few people do catch it) Him and I agreed to keep it quiet. We have our reasons. And for the most part we are keeping our reunion on the down low.

I’m pretty sure he is concerned about his living situation or maybe work if he were to make it known who he is with. Things he said about me when we were apart make it difficult for him to justify coming back to me. My own actions make that difficult. I understand his position.

So he let’s everyone think he is dating a girl he met on a dating site. I’ve seen her pic. It is someone he actually met. I know her name.

It’s all okay with me for the most part. We both dated and met people while apart. Because we want to keep things under the radar for now it seems realistic that he would allow them to believe he is still dating her.

But there is this tiny little bug of jealousy. I’m not jealous of the idea of him being with her. I’m jealous that since he has been seeing me? He gets his laundry done, packed lunches, etc…  and she is getting my fucking credit. LOL

I do that! I make his lunch. I wake up each morning and make him coffee. I make sure his clothes get washed. He does a lot for me in return but that is not the point at the moment. She is being seen as the ‘woman behind the man’ right now. And I guarantee if he was actually with her? She wouldn’t be packing his lunch.

So last night I did something I have never done. It was kind of a role play. In my head I figured if she is getting my credit? Then he can call her name while fucking me. And I made him do that.

Is that twisted?

I won’t lie, I found it a bit hot. He was totally uncomfortable with it which sort of made me more hot about it. I felt in control. I felt like I could at least take back that part that was bugging me by making him face it during sex.

Yes. That’s kinda twisted I suppose.

I felt better about the situation after. I no longer care they think I am her.

But I’m interested to see how long it takes for him to be able to get real with the people around him.

Shopping

I’ve been doing more and more shopping online these days. I don’t like malls. I don’t like crowds. I don’t like shopping.

Unless it is for groceries. There is something about feeding people and being able to sustain my home with food that I find settling.  Psychiatrists may attribute that to my past issues with food. I choose to believe it is because I care that no person goes hungry on my watch.

So why did I go shopping yesterday? Not just shopping, I got on a bus and went to the city to a mall during ‘back to fucking school’ season. What was I thinking?

Once in a while? I want the experience. It’s like going to the theatre instead of watching Netflix. It’s the smell of the food court, the overhearing banter of store clerks who aren’t aware you are listening, trying on things you could never afford but feel so amazing on your skin and going home smelling like your favourite high end department store perfume because you walked past the counter and squirted it on yourself.

I love the experience. However anxiety can be cruel.

I maintained focus and an ability to be pleasant to everyone I encountered while I was getting what I went for. I was in my own head space and having fun. Smiling. Dare I say? Happy.

But, as soon as I was done getting what I wanted? I realized it was hours before the bus was coming and I began to panic. The mall filled with more people. Noise. Bumping n touching me. Kids screaming, parents yelling their chastisements. So much mental clutter.

I sat on a bench to get away from the bumping n touching. I plugged my ears for a moment to regain a sense of composure. And as I was breathing deeply I got a text.

He was done work and if I wanted he could pick me up at the mall.

Like a knight in not so shining, navy Volvo he was there in twenty minutes to get me. He listened patiently while I babbled about being anxious and grateful he came. He listened even more patiently as I detailed my excursions into various stores and what I saw, tried on, bought, left behind….  blah, blah fucking blah.

It was about six months since I was last at a mall. I lasted two and a half hours, got what I wanted but totally skipped Walmart (for things I could have shopped for but didn’t have the patience). I was almost in full blown panic when I got rescued.

I really think I’m gonna stick to shopping online.

But does that mean I am avoiding? Am I running from my issues instead of facing them?

I feel like I tried to do the outside thing and failed. Mentally anyway. I actually did go and get things I couldn’t get online and knew where I could get them. That isn’t a fail.

But I failed in the end. Not even able to wait for a bus. Sitting cross-legged on a mall bench with my ears covered and eyes closed? Doesn’t feel like a win to me.

 

 

Can We Change?

When my relationship ended I was ready to say never again. I can’t tolerate violence against me, in word or action.

However. There are two things that prevented me from saying never.

First? I’ve always taken the widely opposed stance it does not matter if you are male or female, if you act aggressively enough toward someone that their only recourse is to stop you physically? You can and should be stopped.

I know my own actions the day my relationship broke apart. I stand by not deserving to be hit. However, I WAS out of control, in his face and unable to be stopped. I pushed first. His choice of how to subdue me was not the best. And it ended us.

But, secondly? I’ve always believed people change. I don’t believe people are defined by their worst moments. I certainly hope I’m not.

I was alone a while back. I felt desperately alone. The kind that makes me dangerous to myself. I sat there realizing the only people in my contact list are bad dates and people who wouldn’t really care about what I was going through or why.

So I messaged him.

He came. He got me through that moment. Because regardless of what happened? Regardless that I told him never to contact me again (which he was respecting)? He knew I was in crisis so he came to make sure I would be alright.

That was weeks ago now. He’s been around to make sure I am okay. I’ve learned some things.

First? He’s better without me.

I never realized how much our co-dependence was holding him back. He has a great job that he loves with a boss he really appreciates and is appreciated by. He has opportunity to advance. He bought a car. A beater, but it gets him distances his motorized bike won’t. He’s been working on his health and he’s looking so healthy (code: sexy). He has savings and credit. He’s doing just fine without me.

Second? Forgiveness lies within him.

He reads my blog. He’s stumbled across some emails. I’ve been truthful about my escapades while we have been apart. While I thought he would judge me for that? He stuck around to help me and take care of me because he knows the truth and he’s dealing with it. Without making me feel badly about it.

So here’s the kicker. I DO feel badly. When we started spending time together? I had just shut down my POF but I was still seeing some of the guys I met. He knew. He had his own profile and dates set up. We were both cool about it.

As we spent more time together? We decided to make an effort to work on US. That meant we would only be having sex with each other.

I told him I would still be talking to other people but that I wouldn’t have sex with anyone else. And that I would tell him about my chatting.

I took that too far. I was emailing back n forth with someone like I was going to meet them.  I didn’t tell him about them. The emails were seen. Arguments were had.

Seems as though I am the one who can’t change. I always take things too far and fuck up a good thing that would be happening.  All he asked is that I tell him about guys I am chatting with and I didn’t. A fool. That’s me.

Some people can change though. He went for a drive. We texted back n forth. And it ended with him asking if he could come back instead of telling me he is leaving. There was no name calling or shaming.

There was disappointment and he was sad. He knew I didn’t cross that line of meeting, it was just emails. Even still? It hurt him.

He wanted to be here anyway.

THAT is change.

Without him trying to make me feel bad? I still felt awful. He was so hurt that I was dishonest. He came back and told me I was important enough to try and work on this. I feel like such an idiot. He’s been so good to me since we’ve been spending time together. He is taking care of me in every way. He asks nothing in return.

So, can I change? His complete turnabout makes me want to. Any desire to chat up other men drained when he came back here and told me things would be okay. No chastising. He just loved me and tried to make me feel better all weekend.

Why do I want to be a better woman to him? We have ten years of history that have epic tales of adventure and mishap. We’ve been through hellfire and back together. We have a friendship that goes so far beyond our ‘relationship’. We don’t want to let go of that.

But trust needs to be earned now. He can’t trust me. I understand why. I’m okay with having to prove that to him. I will. It only requires me being honest with him about things I have always held back. And the more I am honest? The more he seems so caring and endeared to me.

He is trying to understand me and why I have held back from him before. He is cautious but caring. I think after some time apart where we each grew in our own selves and made changes for our own positive well being? We are in a place where we can grow together. We can change together in a more positive, understanding way.

Some say people can’t/don’t change. I think the best part of life is our ability to change.

 

 

 

Couchbound

Depression rears its ugly head so often in my life these days. I’ve managed to keep it mostly at bay with having bouts that goes for days instead of months.

But it’s been over a week now.

I have done as many things as I can to motivate myself and yet today I find myself watching war movies back to back. It’s my third day in a row on the couch. Yesterday I watched LGBTQ documentaries all day. The day before that was Season 12 of Grey’ Anatomy.

How have I tried to motivate myself?

By doing healthy things. I cleaned my bathroom. I planted some late harvest garden plants (I love bumper crops). I’ve tried to manage some self care like eating right, exercise and showering. Keep in mind these things have been spaced out over a couple of weeks and seem so insignificant to me that they are almost more depressing.

And it’s not entirely true. I went three days without a shower at one point because I was too lethargic to bother.

I’m on Day 4 without alcohol. Not because I quit but because double rent months mean my money is allocated towards living expenses and not wine.

So am I depressed because I don’t have wine? Or is depression one of the side effects of coming off the amount I drink? Perhaps it’s just my usual mental health issues acting up because I’ve been feeling stressed about other things?

I often struggle to figure out what brings this on. I’m not ‘sad’. Not lonely. Just lethargic and unmotivated. Hopeless. Feeling defeated and tired. Exhausted really.

Regardless of the reason? I’ve been couchbound for a few days and I am really struggling to get out of it. It’s why I haven’t ben writing. Or going on webcam. Or changing my PJs.

Ugh.

Lights, Camera, Action

It’s time to get excited. It’s time to light the lights. It’s time to get things started on the Shaunda show tonight. LOL

Yep.

In all my adventures? I came across a very kind man who decided it was time for me to be on camera again. So he ordered me a cam and had it shipped to me. Because? Well, I am a good slut to tell him everything going on in my world and he wants to see some of it.

I’m back to going on webcam. If you wondered why I haven’t been writing? It’s because I am in a constant dance online with men. It’s fun. I show off for them, they feed my ego. It’s my narcissistic wet dream come true.

As an exhibitionist? I value being able to explore that side of my sexuality. I want every man to watch me and get off. I like to be super dirty and sexual without having to be touched. (that’s my anxiety kicking in LOL)

I was on cam before. It took so long to build a following. And I was ten years younger.

In the past week? I had one previous fan recognize me already LOL I’m getting quite a few fans and I am 4.5 out of 5 stars as far as girls on the site (viewers set that rate).

Plus, even though I don’t ask for tips? I get them.  Total bonus. Tips can be collected and cashed out into my bank account. I don’t ask for them because I am really there to be an exhibitionist and do what I want. Asking for tips means you do what THEY want. I’m too selfish for that LOL

Why do I get tips? Well, I don’t really know for sure. I mostly sit around and chat. Often in PJs. I tell guys who get demanding to get the fuck out of my chat. I ban people easily. Don’t I sound like your favourite porn? Maybe if you wanted to watch your wife bitch to get you off LOL

I occasionally get myself off. I have occasionally had a partner join me. I laugh a lot. I have people tell me I am funny and it makes me super happy. They want to see my pudgy belly and surgical scars and they say they are beautiful.

Being on cam is opening yourself up to a lot. Particularly judgement.

To be honest? I was scared to get back into that scene.  But now that I am back? I am seeing this as a healthy outlet for all the things I have been needing. Sexually and emotionally.

I have so much fun chatting with my fans about their day or the weather where they are. Germany, New Brunswick, Italy, Spain. I’ve even gathered a few local fans. One is surprisingly close though he doesn’t know it. Another? Well he’s joined me on cam.

I never thought I would get back on cam. I feel like it is rescuing me from some darkness. I feel like I am coming back into myself again. Other people have noticed as well. I glow.

So? Happy to be back on cam 🙂

 

Full Moon Plans

Full moon is the best time for cleansing. Purge what is plaguing you and focus on making changes to heal.

Tonight I am so excited to have a full moon ceremony. I’ll be going to the river to skinny dip and then dance naked in the moonlight by a riverside fire. Cleansing. It’s time to let go of some things I have been holding on to.

Feelings of animosity. Feelings of shame. Feeling like I am not worth being healthy for. Feeling alone. Feeling incapable.

Tonight I plan to wash all that away by splashing in the river and letting it’s water flow over me. I plan to light the path to healing from those feelings with a cleansing fire at the river’s edge. And I plan to celebrate my change with dancing in the moonlight.

I have sage to burn, candles to light along with the fire and incense to make it all very peaceful. I have some traditional Celtic music to dance to.

And I’m so grateful for my friend who brought me to such a special, secluded place. It’s close enough to walk to and private enough to be myself.

Tonight is going to be magical. I feel it.