Hurt

I hurt inside today. I really hurt. So another train journey into work, another blog to clear my mind. Yes, I must sound like a real whiner as the only time I write at the moment is when something goes wrong. It helps me though so I am not going to apologise for it too much. It lets my thoughts come out and in a way vents some of the pent up frustration, anger, sadness that is otherwise directed inwards.

I had an email last night from a friend. The content, asking how I was. Innocuous. The subject line though felt like an attack. I was instantly defensive. So... I replied asking about it. The reply was clear, passionate, devestating and I have trouble arguing with it. It comes down to the sort of friend I am, and its something I don't score highly at. A statement from a friend that they had tried everything to keep being my friend but that I gave nothing back. That I had vanished. Gone quiet. Wasn't trying. That they had pushed and pushed and pushed to keep it alive but couldn't anymore. They had even stopped crying over it now.

I can't quite describe how I feel at the moment. Useless is a good word. I keep looking back at the past, how I have no long term friends from childhood, school, work. I can't use the excuse of my bad marriage, I am just pretty hopeless at making and keeping friends. I have been told before I seem to have a habit of seeking out new people all the time and pushing others away. I have been told I latch onto people, get deeply involved, that I always seem to want new and don't care about the old. Maybe it's true, maybe I am just an attention whore. I don't know. I look at my relationships, past and present and I hate how I am. I feel so shallow. So selfish. Do I just keep wanting more and more attention? To talk about me and my problems? I think about conversations I have and they seem so trivial. Flirting, horniness, then talking about emotions and feelings and how people are. So so very shallow. Do I never build real foundations? Am I never really a friend? Do I leave a string of hurt people behind me that really genuinely liked me (I don't doubt their sincerity) but get left behind when I freak, close off, or hunt for something new? How can I keep doing this to people I say I care for? What sort of person does that make me? Is that why I am a people pleaser and not a submissive at all?

Please don't try and tell me what a good friend I am, at the moment it just makes it worse as I come up with the "if only you knew what I was really like" voice inside my head.

I know, my posts normally come with some happy turn up at the end where I reveal going through it has made me more determined, but right now, I doubt my ability to give anything of value, so sorry. Out of luck.

First SWAMP

One thing about being angry is there is an excess of energy. That sloshes around and looks for somewhere to go out, and since I won't let it be aimed at others I need to find other outlets. Lots of hard hot frantic sex would be kind of nice at the moment, but since I am on the train I don't think thats going to happen. Well. None of the people around me look like likely candidates so time to find another plan. Writing is the other last great outlet. Not quite as sweaty and frantic as the sex, but still quite as exhausting in the end.

Because of the mood I am in, and the edge of darkness there, that pit of self-loathing, of ridicule of myself, of hopelessness, of feeling like I just pester people... it's easy to identify with other dark times. Times which are hard to write about if you aren't in the moment. Afterwards you heal, move on, can't remember how you could possibly have felt like that. So this is as good a time as any to write of it. I know in the process of doing so this feeling will burn through me, like a fire cleansing and wiping clean the current keen pain. We are funny old things.

A few weekends ago a good friend of mine (kblsb on Alt) and I went off to Bristol to attend SWAMP. The South West Alternative Market Place. It's a small fetish fair and after party held at a club. We thought it would be good to meet up as it was conveniently in the middle of both of us, was a small venue and a good place to start as a "first" for both of us. It was her first time at any sort of fetish/kink gathering. My first time to one in the UK and without the accompanient of experienced kinksters. It was pretty nerve wracking and I think she was really brave in agreeing to go with me. We both agreed at the very least we could have a nice dinner and some company if we hated the place.

Our stress levels were raised by the fact it was a half marathon in Bristol so half the roads we wanted to get to were closed. With much aide from my sat-nav (Jane, I love you, I will never cheat on you) we eventually found a place. Someone was smiling on us... We stopped to get our bearings just after the club and someone pulled out and left us a parking space. Fortune smiles on the righteous, or at least on those with very cute tails. So with this stress built up we went for a walk and a coffee and a chat and eventually made our way back and sneaked through the doorway of the club. I have to say they were pretty friendly at the entrance, saying welcome and hope we enjoyed ourselves. Once inside it was a little harder. There was a a fair percentage dressed up and that didn't bother me a bit, having seen it at Thunder it actually felt nice to be around the denizens again. I think I've always felt more at home around alternative dressers since my love of goth back at University. No matter how *I* may be dressed, I still feel more part of it seeing others be so free... Why was it harder? I guess being around a group of people that seem to know what they are doing, when you don't. I know Kay felt a little out of place to begin with. She was wearing flipflops as they are the most comfortable things to wear for her if she is standing for anytime and she felt she was sneered at by one or two. After the initial "ok we got here, what now" we started browsing round the small collection of vendors, and that got us giggling a lot more. Yes, we are both shopping sluts. Well I am, and I am claiming she is too as its a good excuse. I of course went for the pretty things whereas she liked the looks of the things you hit people with. I swear there is something about me that makes people think my skin colour is wrong and should be much redder...

I saw someone from the Oxford munch so I said "hi". They didn't recognise me, I didn't think they did, but I didn't want to let the opportunity pass. So just a quick "hi", and a quick hi to someone else that it was their first time (must remember to look them up on Alt). We had decided by then we were going to stay to the after party and that I wanted to dress pretty so we went back to the car to get our stuff, came back, paid the extra and then snuck to the loo's to change. It felt good, it felt really good. I had my red/black tartan pleated tartan mini, a black fitted top, fishnets (pvc tops!) and heeled booties. Despite the fact the heels kill me eventually its a very comfortable look and brings out a brattier, sassier, cheekier side of me. Flirty and flouncy. So we went shopping, bought a few nice things and flirted and flounced. I saw another 3 people from the Oxford munch (who didn't remember me either, lol) but said "hi" anyway as maybe next time they will! (I only went twice to the mid-week and I was very quiet, so I am not surprised). One of them, Angie, was completely lovely and fun to be around and I know made Kay feel very relaxed. I was being cheeky, Kay was doing "look what I have to put up with". Angie wanted to know what happened at the top of the stockings so I flashed the PVC bands and got a lovely swat with her crop on both cheeks *purrr*. Yes. I am a tart. I hope kblsb didn't feel put out that I "kinda" knew a couple of people there, it was very hard just to go upto them knowing they wouldn't remember me. I wanted her to meet people though, I don't find it easy in groups and I knew as soon as she settled she would start becoming bouncier and more confident. We also met the house Mistress, Anita, a completely lovely Lady, in one of the jaunts outside for Kay to smoke.

It was on one of those jaunts and chats that Kay mentioned she really liked the look of the violet wands and something she wanted to see more of in the future. It had been really busy by that stall so we hadn't pushed in. Anita grabbed a guy outside too, who happened to be one of the owners of that stall and said we wanted a demo, so we meekly followed in. He started off by showing us it lightly, first on her, then on me, turning up the levels a little. I am jumpy. I am squirmy. I am basically a showoff somewhere inside and wriggle like hell at the least provocation. So I wriggled, squirmed, jumped and got called a wuss. This was cue then to stop trying it on her and demonstrate all the attachments on me. Lots of attachments. We must have been there 20mins. Ozone attachments. Ear attachments. Comb attachments. One up my nose which made my eyes water for about 5 mins (but cleared my sinuses!). The lovely effect of it on my shoulder and then him holding Kay's hand, and her running a pinwheel up and down my arm so I got the pricks through that. *purrrr* that was lovely, as it was on the back of my neck. I am not QUITE so enamoured at the shock I got on my cock head through my skirt *humph* but then again, I didn't exactly complain, just jumped a mile and a half. It was also pretty eeky on my nipples. Probably not helped that he had to feel around on my top both sides to find them, so they may have been a bit happy in the first place. Being groped by a vendor in a strange dungeon so he can electrocute your nipples. What's not to love ;-).

That was fun, and we giggled a lot over that and I think they are amazing toys. Something I never thought I would let get near me but I thought was great. Totally different than I expected.

I don't know now if I was cocky, stupid, a little high, a combination of above or if I was just quite justified but... after the first time we had gone for a cigarette in "normal" clothes, we had gone outside as we were. Kay in smart black, me in my... fishnets and miniskirt. The club is on a quiet backstreet of Bristol, not many people wandering past. My memory of this is pretty vague now as it's kind of twisted against me, but I am sure I remember thinking at the time that there were several people (especially women) in rather exotic outfits so i didn't feel particularly out of place. I also felt very much that it was me and I was around like-minded people so after the first "what am I doing" I didn't think twice about standing outside with others. I even had a nice discussion regarding boots and high soled trainers with a lady... There was a bit of a heart stopping moment when a police car drove past, got to the end of the road and drove back again really slowly looking at us all. At first it was an "oh god" moment, before someone mentioned that Bristol street's are dry so they were checking that we were just drinking tea and soft drinks outside.

That was all very well and good and to be honest I had stopped thinking about it much. If couples or people walked past the other side of the street, they gave us a look, a second glance and that was it. Maybe a whispered comment between themselves, but nothing more. It was a fair way into the afternoon when a bunch of teenagers went past and a very obnoxious boy basically wet himself laughing pointing and screeching at me. The girls joined in, cat-calling and shouting things. I don’t really remember much of what was said to be honest. I just went cold, hard, scared. Someone 10 foot in front of you shouting and over-exaggeratedly laughing. The people with me were wonderful. They shouted out to Kay about her being a “real woman”, one of the other ladies retorted that I was more of a real man than they would ever be… that was really sweet. Others came out of the club, including the House Mistress Anita and she gave them a good dose of their own medicine, following after them, asking to see what they had then. When the boy went to go into a door way to unbuckle his jeans she jeered back saying no, she wanted to see it in plain sight just as we were… The kids went off heckling, as kids do. I was shaken, I just remember crossing my arms tight across my chest. They asked if I wanted to go in, but no, I wanted to stay out while we talked and finished our drinks. I didn’t want to be driven away. I didn’t want to give in to them. I was quiet though, listened to the others, I really did appreciate the solidarity and it made me feel part of something special. About five minutes later, two car’s screeched past. The kids again. They threw coffee at us out of their open windows. The poor guy in front of me was drenched. I was at the back so just got it down my leg, several others also hit. That shook me. I have been kind of used to kids heckling me through life. I am skinny, geeky, suffer with acne. So at school, walking home from work… you get it a lot. I can’t say I can smile and ignore it but you go cold and hard inside and let it slide over you. The wanton maliciousness of that though, it threw me badly. I didn’t really know how to deal with it. When we went back inside I just sat with Kay and held her. I couldn’t speak, I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t want to be me. I just let her hold me. I have to thank her for being there, for not trying to cheer me up but letting me have space just to hurt. It was totally the right thing to do. After that I just couldn’t feel comfortable again, it wasn’t the place or what was going on, it was just being around people and around a group. It was that horrible feeling then of being in a place where everyone knows what to say, what to do, how to be with each other and you just feel disjointed and different. So I ended up following Kay around like a lost puppy so I wasn’t on my own. We stayed for the party, stayed quite late in fact. We just watched, chatted a little, enjoyed the atmosphere and that the things happening didn’t seem strange or alien to us, before finally saying goodbye and leaving. I know Kay made a big hit with them and got invited to munches and even a birthday party! I kind of felt like a hanger-on in the end. It reminded me of when I used to hide behind my ex-wife all the time. It wasn’t her fault, or anything she did, but I just couldn’t get past how I felt.

In hindsight going outside was pretty dumb. I know others were dressed exotically and even provocatively, but that’s not the same as I was… Maybe it was unfair on people walking passed on a Sunday minding their own business to have MY kink thrown in their faces. I don’t think I was doing any harm though… How many stag-do’s have cross-dressed drunks staggering across the street? How much more in your face is that? A private party with fancy dress attire… I hope I wasn’t pushing how I was in the face of those that didn’t consent to seeing it. When a family walked passed I deliberately stepped in the doorway so they wouldn’t face awkward questions from their kid. I didn’t intend it as a radical protest… I was just happy and happy being with the people I was with, and comfortable in my own skin. It may have been asking for trouble though, no matter how quiet the back street... or how others with me were dressed.

There is a feeling lingering behind though. I feel almost split-brained at times. I keep imagining myself as they saw me. Skinny, gawky, dressed in a skirt and stockings. I see myself as they would have seen me and I hate what I see. It looks stupid, it turns my stomach. It makes me go cold and spiteful against myself and hate that part of me. At other times, I remember how I felt and how it was just to be free and I know its part of me. Having both in my head at the same time is to say the least confusing.

Yesterday (as it was yesterday now, this has taken so long to write) at work I was in a meeting and a very simple comment about us adhering to our standards and not their preferences produced unneeded venom from the other team. It sparked it all off again, and I reacted angrily but kept it from getting out. I guess there are still things I need to deal with in how I react to things, especially it coming back to how my ex treated me and how I respond to conflict and how it affects how I see myself.

p.s. i am ok now :) That just took a long long time to write.

Venom

I hate losing my temper at work. Well. Not losing it. I have never lost at work. I internalise it to stop it from exploding out on people. But I hate that. I hate how it leaves me feeling. I hate how it backlashes inside as I push it in so I start tearing myself to shreds rather than lashing out. I hate that people at work can push me into such a corner with a bad meeting.

I am doing that at the moment. Well trying not to do it in fact. Fighting with it. Trying not to hurt myself and finding it hard. The barbs against myself come so easily. The wounds inside open up so easily, old scars asking to be picked, so many words come easily into my mind to dig in with a vitriol and venom I would never use on someone else.

I am not going to do it. I won't... I won't.. I won't do it to them, so why should I do it to me?

Annoyed of Didcot

One thing that does bug me is bad customer service. Maybe its because I am so service-driven myself that it niggles me to see it done so badly. Maybe because we are so rushed nowadays that anything which doesn't happen as its supposed to eats up a big chunk of available time. Maybe because its just plain rude.

Sky were booked to come on Monday to install Sky+. This is a TiVo like satellite service that lets you pause/rewind/record two programmes at once to an internal HD on the satellite receiver. We've had Sky for ages as we don't have a terrestrial ariel, but Sky have just dropped their monthly fee for Sky+ so its just the cost of the upgrade now. I thought what the hell... I know when I first get home from work I tend to veg and watch a little TV to relax, not much... maybe an hour. Because of the time of day it is always endless repeats of Stargate, so if I am going to do that I might as well actually watch something interesting. I tend to miss all the good documentaries, new SF series, etc, as I go to bed pretty early. Ish. Or I forget. Or I have the boy. Of course I will probably still end up watching endless repeats of Stargate, but its a good theory. The boy and I do like a lot of the "how things work" and mechanical series you get on the discovery channels, so it would be nice to sit and cuddle up and see some of those with him if they were recorded.

The installers are supposed to ring by 9am, so I was working from home. They would then confirm a time. Nothing heard. So I rang the call centre. Once I stopped puddling (it's a Scottish call centre *purrrr*) they said they would call the branch and let me know. Nothing. So I called back and they left me on the phone (puddling) while they called then and there. The installer was off sick, they hadn't got round to calling customers to let them know yet. I was pretty mad. If they had called first thing I could have gone into work. It would have just been a simple courtesy... So now I've told them to be there at 9am Friday as I am out after that. The scottish lass at the call centre was nice, said she was working Thurs night and would ring and confirm. That was nice of her, I know she hasn't any power over what they do. Do I think they will be there? Hmmmm not really, but then at least I get to call the call centre again *grin*.

Writers block...

Have you ever really wanted to write but just not been able to? Like, when you sit down at a blank screen (or paper) or even start to think about doing so, your mind just shrinks back from the thought and all those things you want to say seem impossible to start? I don't mean that there is nothing to say, I mean that there is so much going on that you don't know where to begin, that you can't get a handle on things or get things coherent enough to start letting it dribble out so it all backs up inside. Then there is more and more and it gets harder to find the place to begin.

I think that's kind of where I've been the last few weeks. A dozen things happened, where do I start, which do I start with, how do I write about them coherently, passionately, informatively without making it seem like dry lists of I did this...

Writing my blog is incredibly therapeutic for me at times. At times its just bloody frustrating!!