Words

There are times when I need to just write about things in my life, not just the kinky fun.  Don't get my wrong, those aspects certainly are fun and I love trying to write about them but there are times when I get a little neurotic or feel like I'm acting like a psycho lesbian and I have to get it out there, banish the words from my body, so to speak.  Recently, I have begun writing an actual journal again, although in my Moleskine that is also my take everywhere notebook.  There's something therapeutic about seeing the pages fill up with lines of my writing, even if it is rambling, illegible waffle.  A private space for my thoughts, without burdening the people around me.  Sometimes the words will flow so easily that, when I glance down properly, I'm surprised to see pages full of my train of thought.  Other times, I almost have to force every single word out onto the page but it generally feels a lot better afterwards.

 

There are other places I like to write too.  I have a vanilla blog, which is sadly a little neglected right now.  It's usually filled with talk of my domestic achievements, like baking or knitting and, since I've not been knitting much and my baking seems to have been eaten up before I can even find the camera, it's remained rather devoid of words recently.  I'm hoping that I might be able to kick start that again if I can just kick start that Stepford housewife part of me again!  Maybe my idea of re-forming the crafty munch will have some effect on my knitting productivity at least. 

 

I tweet a reasonable amount too.  I, again, have two accounts.  One you can clearly see if linked on this blog and I often use it to flirt with S or interact with other kinky/poly people.  My other twitter is used a lot less and is full of my vanilla, quite often knitting friends (there does seem to be a pattern to this).  I have been known to use it as a way to help me get through my anxiety attacks, that 140 character limit being quite helpful for the tiny bursts of writing that I feel I can do when even taking a couple of steps down the road is making me feel like I'm going to panic and freak out.  It's an incredibly hard feeling to describe when I feel I cannot leave a place.  When the seemingly easy task of opening the front door takes the amount of courage that I'd expect to need to jump out of a plane when I'm well (there are days when I think a parachute jump would be easier than the journey to work), I need some way of coping.  I've found that twitter helps me.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe it's the idea that I know someone has shared my angst just by reading my comment or just the idea of admitting to the world that I'm finding it hard somehow makes it a little more bearable.  On the other side of twitter, I do enjoy reading other people's tweets and can keep in touch with my distant friends' lives.

 

That's my reason for enjoying Facebook too.  Again, two accounts.  One is my 'real' me account, full of people from school and linked to my husband.  Due to the lack of the ability of being able to add multiple people to the 'in a relationship' section, plus the fact that I have my mother as a 'friend' on Facebook, I also have a profile for my pin-up alter ego.  Here I can be in a relationship with S and not have to hide.  I have a lot of duplicate friends on here.  Those that already know the full story and those that I'm more than happy to tell when they ask (I find going out my way to explain poly as a bit odd, although I have done it).  It's nice to have somewhere I can shout about S from the highest hills.

 

And this is where the neurotic, psycho lesbian behaviour of the day comes in; I'm fed up of having this multiple set up.  I wish I could be one person, not split between multiple personae.  Although Alyss, Ava and the rest are all the same person at the end of the day, sometimes I wish I could be open and honest with everyone around me, without the fear that I'm going to upset and offend people.  Unfortunately the world is not an accepting place and, although I shouldn't care what others thing of me, I do, especially when it's my parents involved.  I love two people and I can't see my life without either of them (there, I've said it!) and I want to tell the world.  I don't want to keep on hiding things from people.  I've been with S for 5 months and B just shy of 10.  I feel very strongly for both of them.  I shouldn't have to pretend otherwise.  I know that what's important is how I feel and it doesn't really matter than I can't live entirely openly but there is a little part of me that wishes I didn't have to be grown up and sensible: I want to be in the playground holding both S and B's hands.