From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

The Best day ever!

It’s 8.45pm on a Sunday night, I’m sat stark naked on my bed, with crisp, clean sheet. The window and curtains are open, the is a light breeze coming in through the window, and the sound of birds tweeting in the background. I’m bathed, fed, and ready for my bedtime story and lights out when maîtres come to bed. Tracing my fingers over the bruises on my thighs, my mind can’t help wandering back over the day, for what a day it has been.
It did not look like it was going to be a good day. No not when I woke up at 4 am hungry and thirsty. Going down stairs, I went in to the kitchen to get a glass of milk. That’s when maister came down to check on me. he snuck up behind me, wrapping his around my tummy, and pulling me in to his chest, moving my hair out the way and kissing me. I turned around to give him a proper hug, not in the mood for what his wandering hands wanted. Placing a kiss on my nose, he motioned for me to sit down at the table, he said he had something to show me, and dashed in to the living room, returning with his iPad.
Please not porn, I can’t do porn this early in the morning, was my first thought. it turned out he wanted me to read something he had written. It was entitled ‘’mouse’s handlers manual. Something h had been joking about writing for a while and had actually sat down and written it. He had decided to do it, as he must go away with work for 14 days and has asked one of my bigs to step in and look after me while he is away. I now his still going to be reachable, but when his away working I can’t just call him if I have a silly little problem, so knowing I have someone in charge so to speak makes things so much easier on us both.
So, I sat and read, and I was fine till I got to the part about me and kitten. It read “playmates, lovers, tag teamers, littles, in love and together forever and always.” Well I burst into tears at that, as the is just so much truth in those words. Maitser jokes, that if he was no longer around, that I would just marry kitten. His properly right, I adore kitten and everything about her.
One thing maister hates is me crying, even happy tears. So, he swooped in for a cuddle, pulling me on to his lap and tickling me. Now tickling is one thing I love and hate in equal measure. This time it made me shirk and wiggle in maîtres lap. Well as he puts it, he is merely a man and is not made of stone. A semi naked woman, wearing his collar, wriggling in his lap proved to much for him. Before I knew what was happening, he turned me round in his lap, so I was facing him, kissed the flip out of me. His clever hands had my t-shirt and panties off in a flash, and I only realised when me necked back contacted the cold tiles of my kitchen floor. Those strong finger were inside my pussy, make sure I was ready for him. Then suddenly his hand was gone, he was kneeling up, removing his boxers and looking down a me with what can only be called animal lust. Then he was back on me, inside me, splitting me and fucking me. covering face, neck, and breast in hot little kisses, while his hands cradled my head, so I didn’t get hurt while he fucked me. it’s all I can do to wrap my legs round his hips and bum and hang on for dear life. It’s not gentle sex, no, but it’s tender, controlled and he makes me feel loved and important. While he takes what he wants and uses me for his pleasure, not that he doesn’t bringing me my own realises. Oh no he does, and its beautiful.
After he finish he gets to his feet, pulling me with him. We mount the stairs together, me in front of him, so close I know his hard again, I can fell him at the small of my back. When we make it to are room, the other girls are wide awake, babe smirking in that cocky way, as if to say, “I know what you just did” and they do. I’ve never been known as quiet when it comes to sex, no I’m a very vocal girl. Maitser ask why they are awake, and it’s met by grins. Maitser decides I need to make it up to the girls for waking them up. I of course am more than happy to do so. He gets the girls to lay down and I take it in turn to bring them all to climax using my fingers and tongue. Babe as always holds off coming for a long time, it is only when kitten attacks her breasts and nipples that she cums, but when she does she squirts all over my face. Little bear must be held down by maîtres, as she wriggles so much when she is wet and horny. She cums quickly and sweetly, giving a little sigh as she comes down. I use just my tongue on kitten, holding her hands in mine when she asks for them. I love playing with kitten, you know you’re on the right track by the way she mews and pers. When she chums, its sweet, hard and she is just as vocal as me.
By the time I get through with the girls, its time to get, well for them. Maitser orders me to stay where I am, and he has that glint in his eye again. I stay, as the girls bounce off for yoga and breakfast. Maitser sits in his chair, the one he sits and watches me play with the girls. Just him sitting and looking at me makes my skin flush and I become wet instantly. “I want you to give me a show now little one. I want you use your fingers to fuck yourself and tease your clit. You are to edge yourself 5 times, and then I want you to beg to cum, do you understand?”
I nod a starter out “yes maîtres” as I lay down and part my legs. Running my finger through my sex, then plunging them deep inside my greedy cunt. I fuck my self with one hand, curving my fingers so the hit my G-spot. While I use my finger of the hand holding my lips apart to tease my clit. It does not take long to get to the point I am close to coming, and I back off, then back to the point and back off again, till I’m at the point I need to beg. Oh, dear god do I beg, everything I have goes into it, and then he commands me to cum. Right on que I feel the dam break and my climax hits me like a tidal wave. My walls clamp round my finger tight, I feel spasms over and over, and then I feel myself really let go and I squirt all over my hands. Eyes closed, back arched and panting, I feel a swat to my breast. Looking up I see maîtres smiling down at me. leaning down he, he roughly kisses me and crawls on to the bed next to me.
Dragging me up to straddle his groan and hips, he gives a command that I would normally make me freeze and panic, but I choose not to do today. “Saddle up girl” his way of telling me ride him. I have never been very confident about being on top. But maîtres have been sort of coaching me and getting me more comftable. Taking time to talk me through what he wants me to do and some how getting me to let go. So today I am going to do this and enjoy it, for him and to make him proud.
His cock is ramrod hard already, so I take it and lifting myself up, I position it at my entrance. Then I slowly let myself down, using my inner muscles to clench his cock as I go. When after a few minutes his sheath inside me and I have used to the feeling of being full, I gentle rock my hips and clench those muscles again. I make me gasp and maîtres groan, which makes me lift my eyes to meet his. The look of love and desire in his eyes, spires me on. I start to move my hips and move, using my inner muscles to grip and relies his cock. Keeping the eye contact lean forward and kiss maister. I sit back up, take his hands, and guide them to my breast and urge him to play with them. My riding of his cock is slow steady, but I feel the tension start build low in my tummy. Leaning forward slightly, so misters cock hits my g-spot, and I whimper as it does. I pick my tempo up and I ride harder. Maister wraps one of his strong hands round my throat and find my clit with the other, and commands me to cum, and I do, shattering in to a thousand little pieces. My climax sets misters of, him comes with a roar and jet after jet of cum into my tight cunt. When his finished, he effortlessly flips me on to my back and kisses me, then moves off me, making my cry out and try to follow him, my body missing his. He tells me to stay put, that he’ll be right back, and he leaves me with a kiss.
I curl myself under my blanket, feeling blissfully happy and used. I start to doze off, only to wake seconds later by master’s lips. He has a set a tray with tea and breakfast on the bed. he climbs on the beds and joins me. After we have eaten, he pulls me in to his arms, telling how proud he is and how much I am loved. As I make to go and dress, tells me to stay, and I did. We spend a lazy hour spooning and resting. but then his back, play me with my breast and then rolling on top of my, kissing me till I’m breathless and then just entering me and starts to slowly fuck me again.
That is how we spent most of the day, cuddled up in bed, fucking and just being. Even now, sat her necked on my bed, windows open and the sound of light traffic and the wind rustling the trees outside, I just have think of those kisses and my body starts to respond and need him again. So I give thanks for today, the best day ever.

musings of pixie heart.

Oh babt, what have you done to me!

Do you ever get nights that you can’t sleep, no mater what you try? The is seemingly no reason for your sleepless night. Laying in bed, you toss and turn, sighing and groaning, and Haiphong and puffing. You get yourself tangled up in the blankets, your pillows are full, of rocks and it infernally hot. You can’t decide whether to stay in bed, get up or to go for a walk.

I seem to have a lot of nights like that now. I don’t know why, but this pregnancy seems to of turned me in to a bundle of sleepless, nerves energy and it’s also making extremely horny. I was with the twins, but this time I just have hear maîtres voice and I am begging to be used, and I mean used. Not made love to or fucked. No, I mean thrown on the bed, clothes ripped off and just taken. Not just once, but over and over again. I have even managed to wear maîtres and Steve out.

With the twins if I sneezed I could cum, but not this time. I’m putting it down to maîtres adding edging at least 3 times a day and the fact that when we fuck, well his deliberately backing off when he feels I’m close. Last night he managed to do that 4 times, and when he said on the 5th time “cum for me now, my good girl “. I came for a full 5 minutes, squirting so much the sheets got soaked and I had a blood sugar of 3.2 after. Squirting is something that I don’t do from just penetrate sex, so yes it was a really epic fuck.

For some reason as well, I seem to have gone more submissive than I thought possible. I am pretty much a total service girl and little in daily life. But I have been even more so, and all I want is to make maîtres, more than ever. I have stop swear, I’m not sassing and have stoped putting myself down. But I have also started asking for what I need, from maîtres, babe, Steve, and other people. I mean I even managed to ask to for my popper collar to be but on today, as I was panicking a lot and it is very calming, but it’s not something I would normally do.

My masochist side seems to be coming out to play a lot more as well. I seem to go out of my way to get punishments, I want things like wax play more and I start dripping at the thought of being tied up. This has on the other side, bought out a side of Kitten I love, she has a very well-hidden sadist side, that she seems to leave ear marked just for me.

It has also made maîtres seem to want me more than ever. It’s like he wants people to know I’m pregnant and his. The other day he pretty much tore my panties off to play with me under the table at the pub, and I know damn well people saw what he was doing. But that just made it even more fun!

Well that is to days pixie ramble,

Hugs,

Pixie x

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life

Love is…

Love is supporting, without judgement or criticism.

Love is giving without expecting anything in return.

Love is caring, worrying and want the best for a person, even if that means being without them.

Love is guiding, nurturing, and protecting, without condescension.

Love is giving binderies, respecting limits, and never braking trust.

Loving is not allowing behaviours that will hurt or damage a person, even when they don’t see that harm or damage.

Love is encouraging, whether it’s a tiny step or a life changing goal.

Love is pushing you out of your comfort zone, when you don’t want to, or everything is to scary

Love is trying to not hurt others, even when your hurting or in pain.

Love is standing be someone, and letting them fix themselves, but catching them if they fall.

Love is 3 am chess games, lunch time phone calls and welcome home kisses.

Love is not hurting someone, unless they ask it too.

Love is what ever you need it to be, when you need it to be, where you need it to be.

Love is, simply love, pure and simple.

 

For my Maister, with love

Pixie Heart.

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Sunday morning.

I never thought motherhood was going to be easy or a free ride, no I knew it would be hard as hell at times. But for me it’s been great, for the most part. I love my little girls, they are one of the best things I’ve done with my life. But what nobody warned me about is just how exhausting they can be. It feels like I have been running on empty for years not days. It would seem they are both teething, so are grumpy and snarky in the day time. But at night , or should I say the early am they turn into insomniacs , who seem to think their feet are really funny and need to chat to mummy about it, and when they have told my about their toes, tiny, chubby ankles and how they can fit their sisters toes in their mouths, they doze off , with soft snores. But when I lay them in their cots to sleep and turn to leave them, one farts, waking themselves up, shrieking with fright, and waking their sister up. So it’s back to cuddles, chats and calming them down. Not the sort of all nighter I had in mind.

It’s after one of our early am chats that maîtser found me asleep on a bean bag this morning. I love the fact that I have rules to follow about everything, but if my daughters need me they can be over looked. But as well as that I love that maîtser and I have CNC in place, and not just the sexy kind. No I mean the loving kind. The kind that means I get woken up with a kiss, taken down stairs and made to eat what ever is but in front of me. Then hustled in to a hot shower, then a warm fluffy towel, then clean clothes and then tucked in to bed , with a stuffie and orders to sleep. And because I’m his good girl, and mildly exhausted , I have no problem with that at all.

But when the sexy side of our CNC decides I have slept and rested for long enough, and he gathers me up in to his arms, roughly foundling my breast, and biting down hard on my neck. Well not only do I know it’s time to wake up, but I’m going to get used in the most delightful way. When his hand travel down over my rib cage, the curve of my hip, dipping under the waist band of my yoga pants and roughly caressing them down my legs, with my panties, bunching at my knees. I tense and pretend to struggle a little , so his hand will go round my throat and he growls in my ear to behave, to hold still, that I’m his and he will do as he wants with me, it leaves my with no doubt he loves me.

When his other hand plunges in to My folds, and pulls my leg up and back over his, I know what’s coming, his marking me as his, making sure I know damned well that I’m his. Biting my neck, he pulls his hand from me, and I feel him unbuckle his belt and push open the fly. Then his hand is guiding his cock inside me, and he starts fucking me . It’s deliciously harsh, fast and hard. It’s not the beautiful love making, but it’s what I need. It is pure feeling, want and need.

Gently he flips me on to my tummy, pulling my bum and hips up, still fucking me. His hands move to the small of back and my neck, pushing it firmly in to pillow. He fucks me so fiercely , that it is nearly painful. Then his hand come round and under me, find my clit with his thumb , circling it with a determined ferocity that is startling. His close I can feel, and I know that if I struggle and whimper a little , he will love what he is doing to me even more, so I do. That is all it takes , and he looses his control , and so do I. Cumming so hard I think I must of blacked out a little.

Collapsing on top of me , he pulls himself from me , flopping on to his side, panting . Leaving me laying there , stunned and used. I get a hard swat to my arse and in commanding tone he says ‘up , I want feeding’ and with that he is up and off downstairs . I hurriedly collect myself , pulling my clothes back on and smoothing down my hair. Not bothering to clean myself up, loving the feeling of how utterly used and marked his made me feel. I run down stair to carry on taking care of his needs , the way he has done for me.

And why do I do this, cos I love, trust and adore him , as he does me.

Pixie x

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Phobias I have and how they hold me back.

This is a post that maîtser asked me to write as part of my punishment and I have been dragging my feet on writing it. Not in a bratty way or cos I don’t want to. But phobias are something I hate, don’t understand and feel ashamed about having them. I mean I’m 37 for Christ sake, being frighten of stuff Is stupid, and still I have them! Now I’m also going to point out something here that pees me off a wee bit, and that is what is and isn’t a phobia. Or more like what Is a phobia and what Is a fear. Fears are things we are frightened of , that could hurt as or do us harm, such as snacks or pain. A phobia is something that frightens, but is totally irrational, like clowns or buttons. I have a lot of phobias , so Im going to keep it to the top 5, so here we go…..

Seagulls, pidgins and crows- first up I am going to say it used to be all birds , but I have done a fair bit of work on getting over this one. I guess it stems back to when I was a little kid and got pooped on by a bird on a school trip, and the entire class, teachers and all laughing at me. It kind of escalated from there, ending at me not being able to go to places with loads of birds. I would get paralysed with fear or freak out and have to run away. I got over this slowly with the help of my friend Scott, who was training as a therapist and wanted a willing victim to try dispensation therapy on. Little steps , often was the way we did It. I now love feeding the ducks, or going to bird world or watching the birds on my garden. I only really have a problem with seagulls and pidgins now, as they are big, dirty and fly over my head. (Fear of being pooped on) . Crow are entirely a different thing, I have nightmares about dying and crows picking at my dead body. I think that comes watching csi I when drunk. Now if any of these birds come in the garden I either let the dogs out to bark at them or draw the curtain.

Deep water – ok so this Is not like deep water in a swimming pool. No I mean like in an ocean or lake. Somewhere I can’t see the bottom. I think It’s the not knowing what is down there. I don’t like things that make me go ‘ewwww’ . It kind of led to a little bit of a fear of water for a while and I got fixated on the idea that I was going to drown. But maîtser has work super hard with me on this, by helping to be come more confident in water and teaching me how to swim stronger. But I don’t think I’ll be going on any cursises any time soon.

Being sick in public – again this used to be of being sick at all , but now if Is can get some place discrete I’m ok . Now it’s just the thought of puking In front of people that really freaks me out now. If I can shut a door and get it over and done , we’re good. I don’t know where this comes from or why I have it, but I have for as long as I remember.

Eating in public – I am and pretty much all my life been a plus size lass. But as a kid I was tiny , both In height and weight. I got picked on In nursery school , and one boy called me fat and ugly. I have hated my face for as long as I remember, but I could do nothing to change that. But I could control my weight and when and what I ate. So I refused to eat at nursery or when out with my family. I would only eat fruit and veggies at home, with an occasional yoghurt. This went on for 2 months, till my nana talked me in to eating a little more. But I still could not eat In public places or round people o did not know . It got worse as I got older and I would have to eat at home all the time. It was restrictive and damaging, but the only way I could eat without having a full on panic attack. It got so bad my nana made me speak to the GP about it and I got CBT and therapy for it. I started to get better with my eating. But still to this day I find It really hard. It led in to comfort eating in the safety of my room, to not being able to eat round people I have just met and all sorts of other things. Lol where I sit to eat in public takes me for ever and maîtser says if I do eat in front of you , well that’s how you know I like you. But having babies has strangle help. I don’t want them to have hang ups, so I’m really am working on this. One way round it and something I am super proud of is , that if I know I’m going to be out at lunch time, I pack a sandwich and then get a drink and fries from McDonald’s, sit down and eat lunch. It’s not much but it’s a start.

Germs / unclean places / bins / public toilets – this is by far my worst phobia . I have health problems and I get sick a lot. Germs can kill , and over the years it has got worse. It’s not just a feeling of yucky and blah! But more of a huge panic and freezing up, and freak out and I can’t cope, sort of feeling. I got so bad that being sat near a bin would freak me out, I could not go in the bus station or pee when out. I would have to shower if someone coughed on me and people spitting made me wrench. I would wash my hands all the time and I carried hand sanitiser all the time. But I knew I need to work on It, so I did. It was hard work, and I’m by no means over it, but it’s loads better. I also don’t want It to impact on my girls so Im still working on it. I will get past It.

Well that is a little bit of an Insight into an anxious brain and what happens if Its left unchecked.

Hugs,

Pixie x

musings of pixie heart.

boobs behaving badly ….. for Ben and floss

Boobs behaving badly… for Ben and floss Ok I / we are a family who love boobies! We quit often have little arguments over who has the best boobies. (Does not every family) but sometimes boobs misbehave, with hysterical results. A lot of times things happen on are girl dates. Like the time Kitten and I went to a-trampoline park . I got carried away , was wearing the wrong bra, bounced to hard and my boob flopped out in front of a group of teenage boys. Or the time (when drunk) little bear and babe went to the loo ,but the was a massive cue , so they shared a cubical . Turning backs while the other peed. Little bear then decided to try and open the door with very little room to wiggle . Well she had at the time very big boobs (she had a breast reduction) and the door got wedge between them and her and babe got sort of trapped . After 15 minutes of trying to get free, a lot of giggles and help from some lovely ladies, some one went and got the pub manger and 2 doorman , to help take the door off , so they could get out. Needless to say we never went back to that pub. It’s not just when out boobies behave badly either , no happens at home too! I have always loved wearing skimpy slip style nighties, that make my small boobs look nice in (big head). I have before now woken up to the ups driver banging my front door, run down the 2flights of stairs, open the door , to find said drive turning bright red and avoiding eye contact . After signing for my parcel and saying thank you, I have come inside , looked In a mirror only to find my right boob had popped out. I should add that I have also answered door to the same ups driver in a shirt and panties, holding a very big kitchen knife In one hand and terrible scowl. Being poly and open , we play a lot at home. Cos well we like kinky fun and screwing , a lot . We’ ve had countless times that people have court an eyeful . The worst has to be when babe had kitten tied to a chair and was pouring wax on her tits, and the post man came through the garden gate, seeing what was going on , and tripped over. We now have a sign to remind us to pull the blinds! Naughty boobs or their owners run in my family. My sisters boob nearly came out her dress at her wedding. We have countless pics of family event with nipple showing through dresses. I have a very vivid memory of my nana trying bras on In M&S , and forgetting to pop her bra back on , leaving it hanging in the dressing room. In her defence she had dementia at the time and she was in M&S . But by far the most embarrassing boob gaff goes to aunty May. After mass one Christmas and a lot of sherry , she invited are priest and the younger priest back to dinner . After dinner and more sherry, she decided she needed a little lay down. We heard a lot of grumbling and moans coming from the guest room , followed a ‘sweet baby Jesus , merry, Joseph and all the saints in heaven” and a load thud. We all ran to the guest room , but the young priest made It there first. Opening the door , thinking aunty May had fallen over . Only to find aunty May tangled up in her blouse and bra , boobs out and stuck. She had tried to get her bra off with pout undoing it or taking her blouse of first! The shame off it! I would like to add this is why I don’t drink sherry, it makes even the mildest people into totally idiots. Well that’s us and are boobie tales shame!

family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail, Uncategorized

come back to me when your ready.

It must be one of the most heart-breaking things I have ever had to do, sit back, and watch someone I love, tear themselves to pieces, their heart breaking and their hole world crashing around them. I could run in and try to save them or fight away their demons for them. But that is not what they need or what they want.
I want to say it will be ok, it gets better, and it hurts less, with time. But who am I to know or think I have any idea what it feels like to them. True I know what pain feels like. I have had the emotional pain that was so sharp it took my breath away, that took over my life, aching so bad, and never going away. But telling some one to trust you when they just don’t trust anything, is not what they need. They need to learn to trust again in their own time and at their own pace.
I want to hold them and love them as hard as I can. But that would make them feel suffocated and restricted. They need space and time to heal themselves, to relearn how to be them and find what they need to be. So, I love them as fiercely as I can, from a far. Waiting for them to come to me when they are good and ready.
I remind myself of how I was when me heart was broken in tiny pieces and I thought I would never get my happy or self-back. I need to scream, cry and rage. I needed space, time, and compassion. I needed people to just carry on loving me for me. No judging, not telling me what to do or feel. I did not need someone to pick me up off the floor, but all the piece back in the right place and hold me together. I had to do that myself, I need to do that, and I need some to hold my hand, and to catch me when I fell again. I needed to fight my own demons, with someone stood by my side, encouraging me. it had to come from me.
So, I sit and watch, sitting on my hands. Loving, watching, and waiting for them to need me. but letting them come to me when they need me and asking for what help they need, when they need it.

 

For my Darling Emit, who without his courage and inspiration , I would be lost.

 

Hugs,

Pixie.

Ps –  give you Take me Home, By Jess Glynne.

From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Staging a comeback.

So, I feel like I need to write about this, it feels like the elephant that is in the room, and it is bothering me. I know I seem to be blogging gloomy crap right now. I don’t mean to, I really don’t, I just have stuff in my head that seems to want to make its way out. I would try and stop it, but if I don’t let it out, well it hurts and that hurt gets so bad it is like the worst heartbreak and physical pain all mixed together. What is this elephant that I have running around my head? Well I don’t hide the fact that I tried to kill myself, but I do avoid talking about it and I know how unconfutable it makes people feel when I talk about it. But I need to so, here goes…
First up I want to set a couple of things straight. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I tried to end my life a few times. the were half assed attempts, done when I was backed in to a corner and out of anger. They were never about needing attention or wanting to hurt other people. Nor was I being selfish, wallowing in self-pity and defiantly not about other people. It was very much about me and how bitterly I hate myself. I also Self harmed by cutting myself, again this was not done for attention or as a cry for help. It was a way of dealing with anger and self-loathing that I felt, I chose to turn that back in on me, instead of lashing out on people I loved. However, the last time I tried to kill myself, well I meant that to work.
It happened about 8 weeks after the whole break up shit with my ex happened. Looking back, I can see I was sick, really sick. My body was doing a great job healing from the rape and beating that had been infected on me. But my mind, well that was not doing so good. I was numb, I felt nothing or everything all at once. But I grew up believing that mental illness and suffering with it was a sin, something to be hidden and never spoken about publicly. So, I hid the depression, the panic, the tears, and pain. Over the years I have learnt really well to stamp down on things that hurt and not to get upset in front of people.
The days and weeks that followed, were getting harder and harder to deal with. It was around 2 weeks after this that my brain really shut down. I was barley sleeping, eating, and drinking and maxed out on my meds. So, to cope, my brain decided to switch of, shutting down. I started to lose time, I would look at the clock and then when looked back a few minutes later, 2 hours would have passed. I’m here to say when you lose track of time and space like that, it is almost the most frightening thing in the world.
It got worse and worse, and I got the point of having to do something about it. I could have gone and spoken to someone, no I should have gone and spoken to somebody about it. But I the only thing I came up with was suicided. I knew I had an infection, but instead of getting help with it I hid it from those around me. I told people I needed space and I got it. Had a month’s supply of all my meds. I picked a night when I knew I would be on my own, I sat down with a bottle of vodka, took my pills, walked up the stairs to the bedroom I had nearly died in, lay down and waited for everything to stop.
What I had not counted on was my friends knowing something was not right (Thank the gods for my Darling Kitten), my sisters being very nosy and me forgetting to get my house key back off my Daddy. I was found just in time, but I was in bad shape and very nearly did not pull through. But my body, had other ideas and it decided to keep fighting. I don’t remember much about the first few days in hospital. I remember my sisters and daddy crying, Aunty May turning up and refusing to leave my bedside. I remember kisses on my nose from Kitten, my and being held by a gruff old bear that maitster. I remember my priest coming and saying preys.
When I was out of danger, well that is when things got tough. I want no more than to go home. But that was not going to happen. I was weak as flip, and my head was all over the shop. I was given 2 options by my sisters and doctors either voluntary stay in hospital and coverless and get help from professionals, or they would section me. no brainer really.
I was moved to a pulmonary and cardiac rehab centre, as I had fucked my lungs with the infection I had. so that became my home for the next 2 months. It was in the first few weeks that I put in some very hard work to get my head together. I was speaking to 3 counsels’ and a clinic therapist. I had to see my Cpn twice a week and was reviewed weekly by doctors. I was a mess. It was this time that mistier kind of came back into my life, or in to my life, depending how you look at it.
I have always said, we have been D/s before we even knew it. I was in hospital, angry at been treated like a child, when he came to visit. I ranted about how unfair it all was, and you no what he did?? He listens to what I said and when I finished, he decided to set me straight. He told me that people thought I was going to die, that I had acted foolishly, that I had lost their trust and that I was now acting like a brat. It was the first time anyone had been that open and honest with me in weeks. It made me break down in tears, and boy did I cry!
When I calmed down he asked me what I wanted to do. I said go home, hug my dogs, and get better, and most of all I wanted to be treated like a grown up again. So, he offered to help me. but the were rules and I had to do the hard work of fixing myself, he was not going to do it for me. That was when my ear pricked, everyone had been saying you need to do this or that and he was the first person who asked me what I wanted to do. So, I jumped at his offer. That’s when I got my first 3 rules from maitser . they were, no more lies, no hiding things and I had to keep talking to him.

Well that was 6 years ago, and oh how things have changed. I have gone from stupid, frightened little girl.to a strong woman, who knows her own mind and who will fight her own corner. I went from friend, to lover, to submissive, to girlfriend, to fiancé, to wife and landed at mother. I now have everything I never knew I wanted or needed. I’m finally truly myself.
But it has been tough. The have been times that I have fallen, but it has been me who has myself up off the ground, every time. I have had set backs, blips and melt downs. It has been hard work, putting me back together. I have people who help me and who are routing for me and will hold my hand when I need them to. but I did not do this for them. Nope, I did it for me. it has made me stronger than I ever thought I could be, it has made me, who I needed to be. And it has made me so determined to never ever go back to be a victim, ever again. I always get offend if some one calls me a victim of domestic abuse or rape. I’m no victim, I’m a saviour, and that has turned me in to a warrior.
So that is my ramble about how I made my come back. It has left me feel stronger, calm, and happier than I thought it would. And before you ask, yes, the epic, depressing post will hopefully be ending soon, promise!
Hugs,
Pixie x

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Raw.

Raw.

I sit, numb and bleeding. I feel the tears rolling down my check , on to my t-shirt, but I make no noise. I don’t remember how I got here , or why I’m crying, or what is hurting the must. Is it cut arm my arm or the ache in my heart. I remember picking up the razor and pushing in tonmy skin, the burn I felt as if sliced in to the flesh, and the sense of calm that I felt as I saw the blood running out of me.

I remember the physical pain I felt with him. The pushing , that turned to shoves, that led to kicks, that led to me cowering on the floor. Him towering above me, anger burning in his eyes, fist clenched. I remember the slaps that turned to punches. Never leaving a mark on my face or any place people would guess how I got them. I remember the occasional slaps, turn to daily punches , that led to beatings so bad I could not move properly days.

I remember the mental pain he could inflict. The little put downs that turned to viscous name calling. How his words could maim and injury much more than a fist could any day. I remember the ways he controlled everything, losing friends, contact with my family. I remember the fear, pain and terror I felt, when he lashed out with those vile words. How it felt to believe them and the sense of total worthlessness. I remember the sobs that would rise up through my body , after he told my I was scum, stupid or disgusting.

I remember the fear and disgust I felt from the aggressive coercion to take part in or perform sexual acts that I did not want. I remember the deep feeling of shame , disgust at myself and the hopeless resignation I felt after the sexual violence. The searing pain and the loss of blood after fishing’s went wrong. The look of pure madness on his face when I told him no. The terror of being held down and raped, over and over again. The belief that I was not going to live till the morning. The look in my fathers eye when I had to tell him what he did to me, that will never, ever leave me till my dying breath.

And still , I rose again , to fight on , to live another day.

But some times, like now, all the memories come flooding back. Sitting in my mind and festering. Till they have to come out, some how. Yes they are less painful, not so bright, fading each day. But they are still there and on days like this the still feel raw, jagged and bright. They had to come out, and though I know the cutting is wrong, I chose that , over hurting those I love.

So as I sit, watching the blood and tears dripping to the floor. I remember it may feel raw for awhile. But with time it will fade to a faint scare, never truly leaving me, but becoming a scare, left to remind me, that I too, will rise again.

I wrote this after a meeting with my therapist a couple of years ago. I never thought I would ever think of , let alone hit the publish button on this. It is a real part of me and is as the title says, pixie laid raw at your feet.

Thank you for reading,

Hugs,

Pixie x

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail

From the heart – broken brain update

Hello, hi , hay! So I have not been posting that much or writing much. Normally when that happens , well it’s down to life is busy or I’m working or I have important stuff happening. But not this time people. This time it’s because I don’t or haven’t seen the point. My depression is back and my anxiety levels are through the roof. I’m not coping well, I’m angry, confused and tired. I feel invisible, unliked and ugly. I am hurting , sore and had started hating myself again.

I don’t hide that I have mental health problems, well illness. But I fight it , every bloody day and for the most part I’m winning. But over the last few weeks, not so much. This has largely been bought on by my mum being sick and her death. But the have been other thing at play to. My gp changing my meds with out consulting me or my physiatrist or me, has thrown me off balance. He changed my antidepressant to normal to modified release. Meaning that in the morning I would get a massive high, a huge kick of happy , that by 2.30 pm was leaving and by 5 pm was leaving me flat and on a downward spiral. He cut my main anxiety meds from 5mg 6 times a day, to 1mg 4 times a day. Meaning my anxiety level went from liveable, to through the roof and frightened to level the house. He increased my thyroid meds from 200 mg to 350mg straight away. Meaning I got even more anxious, slept less and felt every so slightly manic. Added to this he stop my anti inflammatory med and took out 2 levels of my pain medication plan. Leaving me trying to cope on less pain medication than I need , not wanting to jump to the really high levels.

Now normally I can cope with a depressive bleep, but I have been dealing with loss and grieve, for people I loved or had very mixed and complex feelings for. Not knowing how to feel or deal with, well it all started to get to much again. I was going through the motions each day, but not feeling anything. I was numb and confused. It’s when this happens that the anxiety and ocd side of my kicks in . I also start to get paranoid and start seeing things in other people’s behaviour towards me that makes me even more paranoid and sad. People not replying to msgs , cos they are busy and stressed , to me is them saying I hate you, get out my life, your a vile bitch and I hate you. It’s not the case , but in my head it was or is. It’s like the worse form of rejection and it hurts. Then the voices start to come back, telling me I’m worthless , hopeless , ugly, vile and a waist of oxygen. Trust me they frighten the fuck out of me.

I got to Thursday last week , and I was dragging my bum out of bed , and just going through the motion of being me. To an outsider I looked like I was doing good. That’s cos I have , over the years got good at putting on a front of being good. I had to, or thought I had too. I don’t like bringing people down or being a pain. I mean I’m the sad sack , why should I bring them down with me, right. I stop a sling things, or for help or for support . I but inside, every time I see someone happy , it twists the knife and kills me a little more.

By Friday , well the pain, hurt and yucky feelings got to much. They left me feeling so sad and anxious, it becomes like a physical pain. So strong it takes you breath away and brings tears to my eyes. I was hurting so bad I started to lash out at people. Not hitting or slapping , but with spiteful words and hurtful actions. I grumped at people on twitter, I thought ill of people and refused cuddles from my darling kitten. Things came to head when uncle Fred ask me how I was doing, and I just broke in to a thousand pieces. Thankfully or sadly , depending how you look at it, he and kitten knew I was not well. The called maîtser, who came home from work. Took all my. Tech away and made me take my meds for anxiety attacks . I was tucked in bed with little bear, I cried and feel asleep in her arms.

Maîtser knew what to do, he always does. He came home from work, checked my tech and meds . (I used to hide things that upset me and I have some times stopped taking my meds when I’m poorly). He phoned my cpn and got him to do a home visit. They looked and saw what had happened with my meds , and my cpn phoned and dealt with my gp and my meds. They got my an appointment to see my head doctor for Monday and agreed on a plan for the weekend. Basically I had to do as I was told, rest and let myself be looked after. I think not having to think about stuff and being looked after was really what so needed. I went to bed on Friday, took my sleep meds and slept for 13 hours straight. I spent Saturday playing with my dogs, watching Disney films and cuddling my babies. Sunday I wrote a little, went out for a roast dinner, played with my babies , cuddled kitten and wrote a little more.

Well Monday morning hot hear, and I was a terrified again. I still had in my head that I was having some sort of phycotic break or something worse and that oil was going to be made to stay in hospital. Aunty May came with me, even coming In with me (I seriously thank the nhs needs great aunties as a way to help look after people with mental Health problems) . After 20 mins of chatting and looking at things, the verdict was in. I’ve not gone mad, or lost the plot or need to stay in hospital. What is wrong with me then? My mother died, my dr changed my meds, triggering a depressive blip and I could not cope with it. Simple! We have made a plan on how to deal with this. It involves medication, therapy , hard work and time. But I have a plan, and when I have a plan , well it sort of makes me see I can and will get better.

But I have also had to realise some pretty hard truths, that really have hurt to come to. The are people who I have hurt, and they may not want me around for a while. That some people may not want me as a friend or in theief lives. That people sometimes only have time for the happy , funny and silly pixie. My behaviour has made me open to critasism and reproach . That some people say one thing and mean another. That I am only human and myself, and that even if they say not , that is not enough or what they want. That others are more their. Up of tea . And even though it should not matter , that my bad mental health, is not something they want to deal with or have in their world. I have to except this and move on but it hurts like hell and it is the thing I’m struggling to except, and will take a long time to deal with or get used to not being enough, but I’ll get their. It is hard to except , it hurts and is going to for a long time. But I guess the is worse things than losing people you thought were friends and liked you. It just hurts and makes me feel invisible.

Well that’s the end to this mental health ramble . Self pity and whining will be kept to a mom I promise and normal pixie is back soon, just not yet.

Hugs,

Pixie