Fighting Heart

It’s never just one thing, it it?  I got all my warm fuzzy feelings out, and then not a week later something else came up.  I hardly had time to bask in knowledge of how deep my serving streak runs and how it can make me stronger in difficult situations before I was off to see if I could stir up some difficulty of my own.  Not that I meant to.  If you know what your subconscious is up to, that’s not really your subconscious talking.  Mine snuck up and hit me, and before I had any idea what it was up to the slippery bitch did it again!  But I can talk about it now.  One of the many things that make Sir a better match than anyone else I’ve met is he has this really odd knack of not even knowing what is up with me and fixing it anyway.  Yes, clearly I’m just really good at fixing things myself and need a sounding board, but no, it’s not that.  Hear me out – this isn’t just a friend who talks to you over tea.  Instead, it’s this:  Sanguine’s brain does something unexpected and she acts weird because what is this?  Sir watches the what is this? part and sees that some sort of interaction might be needed.  Sanguine is put in a position to let go of the actual thinking part and instead of what is this? starts letting some really fighty things come out.  Instead of a) Running the fuck away because bitches be crazy or b) Fighting because bitches be crazy (these are the two usual reactions) Sir gets all serious and handles those fighty things like he’s a cowboy breaking in a horse.  Sanguine calms down and it’s all okay.  Simple!  No, it’s STILL not.  The next bit is the hardest.

The next part is where most of us are taught to do the wrong thing.  Next, we have a calmer Sanguine and clearly some weird things just came out of her.  If this is where you “help” by trying to dissect whatever the fuck that just was and offering solutions, there was no point to all the madness of the last couple of hours.  I will get defensive and want to be left alone.  This is why it works with Him:  The odd knack of not knowing what is up but fixing it anyway exists because He trusts me to ask for help ONLY when I have to.  This is a serious level of respect that very few men have ever offered.  This is respect that comes from being able to see a flawed, complex human and knowing that that is exactly what a human is.  Not a thing you can fix to your specifications, but a constant work in progress that will surprise you.  The only way to really love another human is to let all that weirdness and complexity exist, accept it, and work with it as you build a relationship.  Just got warm and fuzzy again.

So, that said in general, I have had two really rough episodes recently that prompted this.  I am so happy to have been handled both times the way I was, because the technique of getting in there and matching my fury with calm control allowed me to come out of them knowing more about how this works, and why.  Leaving me to mull things over and not have to explain my emotional states was what I needed, along with allowing me to ask things and discuss them once I was ready.  There’s some ugly stuff there, but I’m ready to look at it.  Now for some ugliness:

The first one happened after a good long talk over the phone – not about stressful things at all.  By the end, I may have just been tired (okay, I was) but a small misunderstanding turned into the closest thing to a fight I do these days.  It can be summed up as: I was offered something I REALLY wanted.  I took it as a joke, and then got all upset by being teased with something I REALLY wanted.  Turns out, it was not a joke or a test of how much I can be teased. (Like I am with most things, I am very particular about mind games.  Do it right, and I will melt, but do it wrong and I will add you to the DNF list.  It’s a challenge, I admit.)  Well, by the time it was entirely clear that I had just misunderstood, I was so worked up that I just wanted to get off the phone.  Which I did, with a stern warning that nothing like that should EVER happen in a teasing context because I will rage. And then the phone was off and the sternness turned into a lot of crying.  I was so angry with myself for letting my own lust get in the way of my ability to discuss things logically.  That turned into taking a sleeping pill to relax and be able to get some rest, and that turned into an e-mail written in the period where the meds are working but haven’t knocked you out yet.  (Pro Tip:  Do not e-mail anyone during this time.  Do.  Not.)  I was not only ragey, but sounded like I was putting myself at serious risk.  (I was.  No, I’m not suicidal, I just had it in my mind to do something under the influence that should not be done.)

All that brings us to the next morning.  I woke up clear and perfectly all right, but with the deep conviction that I was way too dark at times and should wall all that up before it ever again got the better of me.  Which was fine until Sir turned up at my door.  He was concerned, but I was all, “Look!  Walls!  I’ve got this one!”  Still fine.  I was not about kindness and hand-holding, and finally He decided to leave, having seen I was okay.  I was trying to keep those walls in place, knowing that if He left I would just go about my day but also be stuck with my resolve that the only way to handle the night before would be to build those walls higher.  That is not good relationship material, in general.  Not for anyone.  Something gave me away (fretting Sanguine gets claw-hands), and He decided to kiss me instead.  I tried to warn Him that I wasn’t going to be able to contain myself any more if He didn’t STOP, but that was the moment when He figured out (I know, I should be really awesome at communicating, but not when there are walls to be tended!) that all that gentle approach stuff was not working in any way, so He went on, and then I couldn’t hold those damn walls up any more.

Big Disclaimer!  This is another of those journal-type entries I like to do.  Don’t try this at home unless you’re me, or Him.  I’m not giving relationship advice – if you hit your girlfriend because she’s acting funny you are an abuser.  If you hit your girlfriend because you already know she likes being hit in a very specific way and wants you to, that’s great!  Seriously, I feel like I shouldn’t have to add this bold disclaimer bit, but some people do not know the difference.

So, we ended up in the bedroom.  I was going on (all out of proportion to the original misunderstanding, in retrospect) about things like Stay Away, I Am Too Dark And Weird and You Cannot Possibly Handle My Demons and other such romantic themes.  As always, the big challenge in writing about highly emotional situations after the fact is that emotion makes memory even more unreliable than usual.  All I remember for sure is, whatever I actually said led to hair-pulling and being thrown on the bed and the pulling off of clothing.  Which made some deep part of me laugh at the remnants of my recent walls and get more into fighting.  I know some leftover nastiness from meeting the other girlfriend showed up, and that worked wonders.  I think that’s when the belt came out.  And I did not fall into my usual space and get all calm and floaty.  I started really fighting – not against being punished, but so I could have more.  This won’t make sense to a lot of people.  That’s okay.  I just want to get some notes down before I forget, and all this is relevant to what happened next.  Point is, I like being pushed when I need it for some reason and when the person doing it can be trusted to read what is going on.  This whole time, I was suddenly being read unusually well; having needs met not because I was asking nicely but because I was asking by fighting and being generally nasty was a surprise.  That takes a certain level of trust on both sides – trust on my side that I can let anything at all come out and not have to control it myself because He can, and trust on His side that if something does go wrong and I’m no longer taking this handling in a way that is ultimately good for me I will stop Him. And it worked – oh fucking bloody Christ it worked!  At the end of it, I was bruised and subdued and knew that He wouldn’t ever hurt me by playing games I didn’t like, so I need never fret over a thing like I had the night before, and more importantly that I should never put myself in danger out of the whatever that was feeling I had when I wrote that e-mail.

Everything was all well and good until a few days later when I had a party.  The party itself was wonderful, and hopefully I’ll write about that soon.  But at the end of a long night of drinking and dancing and such, I had this thing come up again.  Not quite like last time, but I ended up giving in to one of those terrible impulses you’d only give in to after a long night of drinking and revelry when there’s still some nasty thing lurking.  The drinking had loosened my inhibitions, and seeing the fun end left a vacuum for this next ugly thing that came out of me.  I lost control again, and in the early, early morning found myself purposely baiting Him over a lie OG had told me.  Granted, I hate being lied to, but that was not a time to discuss it rationally and I knew it.  I was using it to see what would happen.  Maybe I was trying to see if His end-of-the-night mood would allow Him to be angry about me being lied to.  I think He had some warning, since only a few days before I had acted so strangely.  He got me to go to bed, and the next day I got up and made food for the few people who had stayed over.  Once they left, we had the house to ourselves, and it all came to a head.  I think I was sad and disappointed in myself over so obviously lowering myself to being manipulated by a lie.  I should just brush it off and get on with it.  But again, He knew more about me from the last time, so He could get right into what I needed.  In a way, it was more gentle and calm than the earlier incident, but also more raw since there was now a precedent.  This time, He made me see something He’d known all along – a thing that put to rest some of my problems.

See, one thing that made a LOT of OG’s critique of me so hard was this:  I know how I work.  I usually keep things on the positive healthy side (for me) and I gain a lot from it.  I like to think the right partner can appreciate that.  I also have this big nasty side, and tend to hide it.  By the end of that whole fiasco, I was pretty well told that neither of them were any good.  (Waving my arms, saying, “They’re BOTH good – they make me SANGUINE!”  Is not any help when you’re talking to someone who is not a Sanguine Fan.)  So, I was stuck.  My lighter, positive side might be too light and warm-fuzzies for Sir, but my Deep Dark side might be too dark and ugly.  Although I wrote about that whole thing and discussed it with Him, I did not realize how much I had internalized that until these things happened.  But (again, hindsight) how could I not?  Here was a long-term partner explaining all my faults to me in such a casual way that it would take a much stronger woman than I not to worry.  I’ve only been around a couple of months, and how should I know what I need to offer, or even if I can?  Again, I am (still) disappointed that I took the bait, but who can listen to someone with YEARS of history with a partner going at them like that and not let it creep in somewhere that maybe they really are just  a new toy whose shine will soon fade?  I hope you (general you) never have to be put in that place.  I thought I could handle it, and I couldn’t.

Well, as I said I hadn’t realized how much those manipulative comments had stayed with me until I found myself baiting Sir with them.  My tiny mind was going, You are being a bitch to bring this up again!  I hope He beats me!  So there was some inner conflict.  That time alone, when He MADE me see it, rather than tell me?  All sorts of lovely things were being done, or about to be done, and I don’t even know what I was saying (again) but it boiled down to, You are going to punish me for being bad?  But I want it, so it should be a reward for being good!  But You will give me this no matter how bad or how good I am, just because I need it?  You will give me what I need no matter what I am?  Or maybe the punishment/reward, bad/good bit was reversed.  Point is, I said it.  He already knew, but wasn’t going to tell me until I saw it.  I was leaping around, shouting “Testify!  Be Healed!”  inwardly while I got some new bruises and orgasms and such.

Bruises and orgasms are lovely, thank you, but having someone show me that no matter what I am or how it comes out, I will still have the things I need offered to me?  And SHOW me, not tell me.  Some guy saying, “I love you no matter what” is cliche and I think most of us ladies know that when it comes down to it, they’re only words.  On the other hand, a man who can MAKE me know that with no words at all is someone who doesn’t just show up for sex because I have pretty eyes.  That’s something that I can really feel. That’s what I need.

And then, there’s more ugliness.  I was basking in my happiness, tending my bruises and feeling at peace with it all.  Then who should show up but First Husband?  He’s got no place here at all, so that’s unexpected!  He wasn’t literally here, since for all I know he’s dead (and better off for it) but it shouldn’t surprise me that his shadow turns out to have tinted these episodes.  I always think it’s gone, but then I catch it out of the corner of my eye.  I’m happy now, and able to work toward the relationship I need, so why are you bothering me?  Well, readers, hark back to those bad date posts.  And all the other mishaps I’ve touched on in my writing here.  Were you wondering why I didn’t just kick some dudes out of my house/bed/life?  I sure was!  Yes, I’m better at it now, but still not very good at it.  A huge part of that is his influence.  I was taught very thoroughly that if I fought, or disagreed, or brought up things he didn’t want to discuss I would be hurt.  Not in the good way.  Hurt in a way that I hated, not in a way that left me in a giggly endorphin puddle.  Yes, these memories are very much complicated by the fact that all that happened when I was very young and very naive and also in a D/s relationship.  That brings on the shadows.  I’ve mentioned here the fact that my ideal relationship model would involve me having a Master.  The only time that has ever happened it turned bad.  Since then, I’ve had nearly 15 years of unsatisfying play, and looking at what I don’t want, and false leads, and so on.  I’ve learned, slowly, to take care of myself and I’ve learned that what I want may not happen in my actual life.  I’ve gotten to a point where I can be alone, single, and happy, so why now?  Why this?  I just saw why.  Since I know what I want and need, I have that still-present shadow mocking me.  He suggests that if I let myself be too free, I will be hurt.  I will deserve to be hurt.  I should not want anything more or better than him.  I get angry.  I rage that he was never a good man at all, much less a good Master.  I’m raging at a shadow, and since it’s inside me I cannot rage without bringing things up from the depths.  This affects Sir in ways I am ashamed to admit.  I don’t care how new our relationship is, or how it’s going to be in a year.  My demons make me goad Him on, just to see of He can keep His control over me, and them, and Himself.  I want to see if I can use my rage and my lust to drive Him to handle me better, in ways I need, or if all my darkest parts will drive Him away or make Him loose sight of me and really hurt me in a way that is no longer what I want.  That is really fucked-up.  I know better, but I suspect that’s been the ultimate force behind these last two encounters.  I’ve let myself get comfortable enough to turn ugly, and He has taken it all and given me better things back than I could have asked for from years of therapy.  And yet, I don’t feel I’m using Him.  I want Him, but I have to test this.  I have to see if I can show Him all of this and hear Him laugh with His own anger and power, I’m not afraid of your monsters.  And then I have to see what’s next.

What is next?  I will be asking that as I die, since life is fascinating and beautiful.  (All of it!  Really!  I’m not being silly here!)  But THIS, specifically, makes me ask, what is next for us?  Will I prove to be a new toy that tarnishes, or will these surprises that make me more me be a part of this thing that’s between us because He does actually want me?  What happens if I can let go of everything and see what’s next?  Being allowed to explore this side – the side that wants to see what happens next if I trust Him – is thrilling.  And now I see that both chambers of my heart, the desire to serve and the need to fight, are sharing blood and pumping in rhythm and only the one that can listen to the entire cycle can love me.  Maybe they were set in motion and fed by someone who I now hate, but since they beat on I want to see what they could do next, with the right one.  And I can listen to them now, even if I am left alone, since I am not afraid to hear.

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One Response to “Fighting Heart”

  1. That was the best, most intense post I’ve read so far. Ive had a few tumultuous bursts from the unconscious lately. Be careful, but keep evolving.

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