Cleaning The Pipes

WARNING: THIS HAS SOME VULGAR AND SEXUAL LANGUAGE. SOME OF IT GETS XXX

So in the past four months? My period has been sporadic a bit. Dark (like colour), arriving at will instead of on time and one particular one was extraordinarily painful.

I was worried enough to as a couple sister-friends online. I was blaming it on being on peri-menopausal and not currently under doctor care. They thought ovarian cysts and all kinds of other issues. However, the pain subsided. Because I don’t have a doctor it has gone unchecked.

**SEXY PART**

This month? I took full sexual advantage of my hormones during my PMS.

For the past two days? I have forced my BF to sexually perform every night after he gets home. I mean, he gets greeted with dinner and drinks but when he’s done?

I tell him exactly what to do and how to fuck me. I make him take me in the shower to get the filth of his workday off him. Then we take it to the bed. I’ve been making him fuck me especially hard. Crying out and making noises he’s never heard as I’ve taken every inch of him in ways I haven’t before. Over the top hot love-making.

**BACK TO LADY THINGS**

Two nights in a row of hard fucking and I bled. But this time it doesn’t hurt. It’s not dark. I don’t feel discomfort. It’s bright red and healthy looking menstrual blood.

(Bwaa ha ha, met someone who puts that stuff in their plants? Um, no!)

So, I’m thinking? Sometime a girl just needs to be really opened up. Fully penetrated, deep, hard and almost painful. Because we all need to clean the pipes!

I know I feel better.

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The Landlord

The wonderful woman who owns the property I live on has become a treasure to me. She told me before I signed my lease this is a place people find healing.

Since moving in? I have space in her garden. We’ve shared meals. We visit regularly.

At the same time? I have been struggling with depression. I’m in my ideal situation but can’t find motivation to do things I want to do.

I want to take advantage of the garden space she offered. I want to make my own yard beautiful. I have every tool at my disposal. The weather is perfect. So why can’t I get off my couch?

I go for walks but then I feel exhausted by them. I make minor attempts to clean my home but I am exhausted by them. Self care is on my back-burner. I feel defeated.

But then my 82 yr old landlord comes up the path with her walker. She sits with me on the porch and I tell her I’m sorry I haven’t started ‘doing’ more with the beautiful space.

She reminds me I was chosen to be here so I can heal. She understands things take me longer, even adjusting to a good environment, and she is so glad I am here. She tells me to enjoy the quiet. Rest. Just, BE.

Beyond the perfect home? I have such a kind, caring landlord. Right now there are days she is the one who gets me through.

Shower Sex

WHAT? Yes, a sexy blog.

WARNING XXX: THIS CONTAINS INFO ABOUT MY SEX LIFE. PLEASE DON’T READ FURTHER IF SEXY THINGS OFFEND YOU.

I’ve never been into shower sex. It’s awkward, slippery and rarely satisfying. Movies make it look it easy and sexy but…

I’ve tried it. Varied men at varied heights and varied sorts of ‘shower’ situations. Those things generally mean unsatisfying sexual encounters. I have pretty much avoided shower sex for a long time based on past experiences.

My new home? Has a giant bathtub with a handle around the middle of the tub.  The shower curtain is curved (like a hotel, yes) allowing for a lot of room.

When he wanted to go for a shower the other night? I asked if I could join him. Just to try something different.

He has always fit me perfectly from any angle. Taller than I am but seems to fit in ‘standing’ position. We joked around, soaping each other, before I grabbed the tub surround handle and he took me.

Quick and unexpected.

Hot.

Tonight? I needed that again.

He came home from work (landscaping, so covered in dirt). I knew I wanted him. He’s been jack-hammering cement for two days. His muscles? They are pulsing. They ache for touch.

And I gave him that. Hot water running over him. My hands scrubbing soap over his body. Kissing him. Relaxing him.

Any then? He fucked me so well. My one hand on the shower handle, another on the wall.  He grabbed me and rewarded me so hard for taking care of him.

I think I have a knew feeling about shower sex!

How Do They Not Get It?

Oh my gods the anxiety today!!

I took the chance of trying to dispute something on a receipt. Innocent question and I was okay with a ‘no’. But then mental chaos for me.

How am I stronger for it? I wrote this letter to the store management:

I’m writing to tell you about an unfortunate experience I had at the Qualicum Beach Quality Foods store this morning.

On April 4 I purchased paper towels. I had secured the ‘Buy 1 Get 1 Free’ deal on my Rewards Card because I saw the picture of the paper towels I use. I picked them up according to the picture.  Econo paper towels.

When I reviewed my bill after I got home? I discovered the discount had not been applied. I looked on the website to make sure I had picked up the right item and discovered a discrepancy. The picture was Econo towels and the description was for Ultra towels.

Today, April 5, I came back to the store with my receipt and my laptop with a visual of the ad and I approached the cashier, Lisa.

As Lisa looked into it I pointed out the ad discrepancy and told her the fault might be mine. However I thought it was misleading. She seemed to think I was correct about being overcharged (based on the picture of the ad and my receipt) but could not work it out in the computer. I told her I just want to make sure any mistake on the website was corrected.

She could not work things out at the till so she asked for a supervisor to come over.

Ken.

I barely had my concern out of my mouth before he told me I purchased the wrong product. The one on the deal is single roll and I purchased double. I tried to tell him I was aware I that might be the problem (purchasing the wrong item) but tried to point out the ad issue. He ignored my concern about the ad and told me again the ad was for single roll, not double roll. He added, “There is a difference”. I pointed out the misleading picture that said nothing about size. He re-iterated for a third time the special was for single roll, not double.

At that point I mentally tried to disengage and thanked him, told him I understood his position. He tried again to explain and I cut him off and told him I understood and he could leave.

At no time did I raise my voice. I wasn’t asking for compensation. If I was wrong in purchase I only wanted the website corrected so it wasn’t so misleading. I only raised a concern. One that Lisa understood and tried to help with.

But Ken? He assumed what I wanted. Assuming I wanted compensation he offered to have me bring in the wrong paper towels for a refund. I explained I usually walk to town and got the deal because I had a ride. And also because I needed paper towel so some had already been opened. Return was not an option. That was one of the points he tried to remind me I bought the wrong ones. I asked him to leave the conversation because he could not stop explaining how I was wrong over and over after I already understood. I was being made to feel stupid.

After he finally walked away I thanked Lisa for her time and help. I went over to the isle where the paper products were and I looked at the paper towels.

Both sizes were mixed. It’s probably because of customers. They looked like they should be separate on the shelf but they weren’t. The product packaging is identical, except for fine print, and easily mixed up. I took out my laptop to compare the ad with the shelf.

It’s as I was examining this and realizing how easily I could have made the mistake? Ken came up behind me. He startled me by reminding me again that I purchased the wrong size. I told him I understood what he said and was looking at it for myself.

It’s when he started to tell me for a fifth time I’d purchased the wrong size that I asked him to stop treating me like I am stupid. He tried to assure me he wasn’t. I asked him how repeating the same thing I already said I understood wasn’t treating me like I was stupid and I asked him again to leave me alone so I go about my shopping.

I have anxiety. I was shaking after that encounter. I felt threatened. I felt harassed and belittled. I felt like ‘the ‘dumb’ woman must need this explained over and over’ even though I told him I understood. When he came up behind me? I was startled. I was only trying to confirm what he said but he took it as an opportunity to harass me further about an issue I had already conceded on. I had to go sit down in the little cafeteria before I could continue my shopping.

I wasn’t doing anything wrong so why was a manager following me around after I asked him to leave me alone?  All I did was try to bring up a concern. Point out a possible web issue and see if I was warranted some money back.

After all of that? I got home to write this concern to you and found that deal has been updated. It no longer says Ultra towels. It’s Econo, single size! I wasn’t wrong. The ad was wrong. And I was belittled, harassed and made to feel stupid by an employee who’d rather prove himself correct than investigate something.

I have written wonderful things about QF before. It’s the only place I can walk to shop. I love the points program. I’ve had other concerns that were addressed professionally and promptly.

However? Going forward I’m re-organizing how I shop to ensure I spend the least amount of money I can in your store. I will be taking my shopping elsewhere for any major purchasing. And wherever I have said good things about Quality Foods I will now be sure to share this story about how your employees harass customers to the point of anxiety even when the customer was at least partially correct!

 

So, yeah, that happened today. I felt crushed as it was happening but sat. I ate eggs in their cafeteria and got out unscathed. Really? The majority of the people there are amazing. But I really never want to see that man again.

Who Are My People?

I watch a lot a of Grey’s Anatomy. Whenever a character says, “They’re my person.”? I get this strange feeling inside. Maybe jealousy?

It had me wondering who my people are. I’ve pushed so many people away. Wronged people who could have been my people. Hell, I barely have family anymore.

So who are my people?

I have my best friend ever, Corey. He has seen me through me through two hard addictions and has been a constant friend without being an enabler for those things. He is an example to me of recovery and living a healthy lifestyle. When I needed a place to stay for an appointment in Winnipeg, after going to Alberta, he let me stay for a week. He doesn’t do overnight guests so that was huge.

When I went to return the key? He told me I always have a place to go as long as that key is on my chain. He writes me letters and sends me postcards from his world travels. He loves me. He is my person.

There is a woman, Val, that I met a few times before she helped me when I needed money and she needed a housekeeper. We’ve been friends in person and online for a long time. Bonded like sisters so much she came out to visit me on my island. And the sisterhood continues. She is another who has told me I always have a place to go with her. She is my person.

I recently reconnected with some friends from Bible College. We have all changed. Adam, Kari, Frank. One is a missionary, one came out of the closet and the other rarely goes to church and is still working out beliefs. One of them told me there is room for me with them if I ever need. I could probably stay with another but he’s in Fiji LOL

The thing is I reconnected with each of them where we left off. They have changed and told me how. I have changed and told them how. What has not changed in any of them is their spirit. They are each the same to me as the day we lost touch for a time. The stories have changed but the hearts and the love have not. They are my people.

It’s pretty comforting to know I have five people! Five people I can talk to (who really know the real me) and at least three who have my back if I ever needed a place to run.

How do I forget sometimes that I am so loved? I have GREAT people!

 

 

Dealing With Responses

Sometimes you get an email from your mom after you sent her two emails that could have offended anything about her Christian and/or parental senses. And you’ve already had a bottle of wine so you are worried you will drunk respond to her email and you’re afraid to open it? That is me right now.
 
I’m sitting here fretting. Over what? I don’t know. I’m scared to read my mom’s email, I guess. I’m never good at responding after wine. I know whatever she has to say will trigger me.
Anger? Sadness? Feelings of shame? I could be in store for anything when I open that email. I could also be in store for kindness and understanding. My mom is not some monster. She loves me.
I mean, her nickname is ‘heart of stone’, but that doesn’t mean she has NO feelings. She has surprised me in the past with epic understanding. So, in fact? It means she is probably suffering from an inability to express her emotions because somewhere she was taught that was wrong and that has been part of why we struggle.
Sitting here afraid to even know what she is going to say is killing me. I want to read it so bad but I’m so scared of what I will read.
She is the most important, but not the only, person I have asked deep questions from lately.
Which begs to question why I would have put questions out there in the first place.  Am I longing so much for familial connection that I will risk all this emotional upset? I’m freaking out. BUT… I sent the initial contact asking questions.
To anyone I have asked the hard questions of lately….
Tell me. Because I am scared you won’t. Tell me. Even if I can’t deal with it. Tell me. I’ll respond badly. I can assure you.  But? Tell me.
And know, please, if you really love me? That as much anxiety as I might feel even before opening the email, no matter what it says, I love you.
I’m gonna go read that email now. I feel like I am going to suffocate.

A Letter To My Mom

I have been struggling a lot emotionally lately. Some of it started around the time of my birthday. I made some great personal changes in my life (pool membership/exercise, back to my counselor, etc).

However I have also been fighting and struggling with something. I haven’t talked about it because it makes me so sad. But I need to let it out. So, this is the email I sent my mom today.

This might be hard to read. Sorry.

I’m sorry I didn’t send you a birthday card this year. I was struggling emotionally and financially. I couldn’t afford card and postage. And I brought myself into enough emotional normalcy to at least send an email.
And I am sorry it was an email, not something more personal.
Is that why you never sent me a birthday card?
You taught me always to send thank you notes, be reciprocal. You complained about how Brandi never sent anything…   so why should you? And I totally understand that attitude. I’ve ditched many a pen pal for lack of reciprocation.
This was the first time I can remember that I never got a birthday card from you. I walked to the office so expectantly for a week before and after. And I have spent weeks crying about it.
I can’t cry anymore. I need to move past this.
I feel like the day I was born isn’t worth your celebration anymore. You’d send a card with your birthday message and often a verse of Scripture that I would meditate on that day.To honour you and the day you gave life to me.
I really missed that this year. i don’t believe the same things as you but it doesn’t mean I don’t want and need you to be in my life in YOUR ways. I missed my birthday Scripture this year.  I looked for it for weeks….. and I am still crying.
I love you. I’m sorry to put this on you.
I feel selfish for being SO sad about it. My parents are having their own health issues. And I missed their birthdays as well. Who am I to judge my mom for whatever reason?
But I have been crying for weeks. And I need to let it go. And writing it is the only way. Hopefully tonight I fall asleep more peacefully.

Chat With An Ex

Nope. Not boyfriend. My meth dealer.

I’m four years clean. I walked away by leaving behind family, friends and everything I was comfortable with to pursue a healthier lifestyle across the country. I wanted desperately to be free from hard drugs but knew if I stayed in Winnipeg I would be plagued by them or dead. Or in jail. Whatever the options were? I wasn’t interested.

I left it behind.

I learned today that shortly after I left Winnipeg my primary meth dealer was arrested. He spent time in jail and cleaned up.

Mikey was a lifetime (since teenage) meth junkie. He was shooting meth with needles when I met him. Same age as I was but he hadn’t gone more than a couple months without his drug since 16. I was new to it. He taught me all kinds of things about smoking. Educated me on venues that sold meth pipes. Sold to me in bulk.

I sold weed, he sold meth. Sometimes we would trade. Other times he cut me a deal because I was roomies with a prostitute he sold to and it was easier to sell to me bulk and have me take care of her (and her gal pals) than deal with their calls however many times they earned a twenty.

He was really good to me as far as drug dealers go. Always gave me extra personal. Gave me deals, gave me customers he didn’t want to deal with which meant I smoked more for free. Excellent dealer.

When I walked away from that life I left behind knowing a lot of people.

But today I talked with Mikey. He’s been clean shortly less than I have. He has a good job and he is doing well. And we still cross a distance of miles but I am so happy we can be friends who talk to each other.

It’s years later but I really feel like I have someone I can talk to about that past. Someone who doesn’t judge. Someone who can tell me about their struggle. Someone who knew me at my absolute worst. And knows the struggle. And still loves me.

I am so glad I got to chat with him.

I’m Not Stupid

I was praised as a child because of my intellectual abilities. If you count standardized testing (I personally don’t put a whole lot of faith in that) I tested in the top 3% of the country as a child. I always passed exams and often received honour awards for grades, etc. without putting in a lot of effort. I never believed I was the smartest cookie in the room but I was confident I was intelligent.

I went to Bible College, not university, but I chose as many electives courses outside of Bible curriculum so I could be versed in things beyond Bible. I’m not ‘educated’ by the worlds standards but I took the time to learn a lot of things on my own.

Making your way in the work force without an education is difficult. However I had worked from the time I was a teenager. My first job after college was as a cashier at a dollar store but I worked my way up. When I couldn’t go further? I found a different job with room for movement. I used my brains to work my way up at every job. I went from retail to office. Grunt work to management in every job. When I got sick and had to leave to work force? I was the Director of Administration for an international software company.

I’m not stupid.

However, I’ve been out of the world of having to really ‘think’ for a long time. And I feel like I am losing some cognitive skills. I question my own brain, get confused and sometimes I am wrong. Even knowing my own issues about myself I still like to feel smart.

I have something weighing heavily on my mind.

More than a week ago my BF and I were looking at the prices of something on Amazon. I pointed out some info about subscription price vs. one-off price, etc. He told me I was wrong. That my price comparison to the same amount of product in the store was wrong. I made an attempt to explain what I meant and he got so angry. He belittled me and called me a moron. Told me I just didn’t understand.

While that was happening? I used my phone to look the information up. I knew I was right. And instead of just fighting it out I shut up and let him say horrible things. I didn’t want to push it right then because I was nervous how he would react.

Instead I gently brought it up the next day to let him know that we could in fact get the better deal from Amazon.

Again he freaked out. He made the entire situation about me ‘being right’ and needing to prove it. He got angry and we didn’t talk for almost a week.

Since then we have talked about other things, gone about life and been our usual selves. But this issue was never resolved. And I don’t know how to bring it up again without creating uncomfortable chaos in my home.

I mean, I don’t give a flying fuck who was right. I pointed it out so he knew we could get the deal and show him how it worked. I don’t care that I was correct.

But his reaction to being shown that reminded me I DO care that I was treated like shit and belittled and made to feel like nothing. Instead of getting angry and ignoring me for days on end? What would have been nice would be an apology for calling me a moron and making me feel stupid.

I’m NOT stupid!

Caught

I was having an argument with him the other night about a week. I took to the couch (not the bed) and I was watching my Netflix addictions. Thinking he was sleeping.

I got so horny. It came over me. Like, SOOOO horny!

We’d argued. So rather than turn to him? I turned to porn. And not just porn. I went taboo. Nothing I would ever do but somehow watching something that off colour strikes something in me. TOTAL taboo. So taboo I won’t even say it in my blog.

He awoke (or just got out of bed) and his only comment upon catching me? “NICE” Then he went for a drive and came back to let me know we are only roommates. He encouraged me to pursue others.

I felt dirty. I always feel dirty about that one fantasy. I’ve never entertained the reality, nor would I. And his reaction was so… well,

I feel ashamed. Like, totally.

But not because I feel I did anything wrong. I feel shame because the person I trusted to accept everything, the one who said all I need to do is tell him truth and he would accept? He made me feel shameful.

What do I do with that?