broken brained, family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart

It’s just how we role around here!

It’s just how we roll around here!

I’ve been sat doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been packing to go away on a business trip with a kitten. But I don’t think we’re normal in this family, and I don’t just mean odd, I mean bat crap crazy and stranger than a jumper in July.

What bought this sudden realization to me? A conversation twitter about how I had pack 4 pairs of unicorn socks and 12 pairs of panties for a 2-night trip! But then I also have pack 20 collars, 3 stuffies and a massive tube of lube. I know I’m not normal, and I’m fine about, no really.

I’ve never been what you call ”normal” and from an early age I was labelled ”special”. As a little kid I thought that was a great thing to be, but as I got older I found out that ’special ’ is not such a great thing to be. I was, in fact, a very scornful thing and meant that you were different. It relegated you to the same place as black sheep, funny uncles and those sent to the sisters of mercy.

As I got older it got changed from special, to special needs and I was know to be challenging. Now I should say that my special needs, were nothing more than being dyslexic and struggling to learn my 3rd alphabet. The challenging part was a form of ADD and the fact I was from a home with 2 abusive parents. But I was seen as the problem and got told to stop making excuses and buckle down. But I simply could not do it, being normal hurt, like I was being squashed into a mould that was too small. It had round edges and I had sharp, jagged points. It led to me acting out, getting kicked out of schools and very nearly getting sent to a youth offenders place.

Luckily my nana and my priest (I know right!) saw that I was different in a good way. My Nana and father Michael went in and batted for me, somehow managing to get me one final chance. I got sent a PRU and got help and guidance. I learnt to embrace my quirks, funny habits and being different. I learned that yes I am strange, odd and special, but that can be good and beautiful things.

So fast forward to today, and sure I’m still that odd, different and quirky girl. But I’m doing good. I am succeeding, living a happy and stable life. Sure I could clean for Ireland, I freak out if I have to sit by a bin and have a break down if bird flys over my head. But every day I get up, I know I make people happy, make them smile and make their lives a little bit better. Maister always says I’m his special girl, and that makes me so happy and proud, and I’m ok with that!

From the heart

For @HisLittleRara

Today’s guest blog post is something a little different, in that it’s a collaboration between to people . Me and my wonderful daddy, Antoine Beaulac! he needs no introduction, so here it is

Do you ever have chats with your friends, that suddenly turn in a direction, that should be awkward, but they aren’t and just seem to naturally flow and become something very different? Something hot, sexy, and dirty as hell. That turn you into a wet, squirming mess in bed, begging two men to come fuck you and let them do god only knows what to you. Right that’s normal right? Ok, so I know that’s not “normal” but hell it’s fun when it does happen, well I thought I would share one of those times with you.
Maîtres: Little one are you sassing me and Alex? I don’t think you want to do that, do you or are trying to get punished? Hmmm, I think that might be the case. What do you think Alex?
Alex: I think someone wants a spanking and is seeing how hard she can push the Doms in the room. Lol
Maîtres: Is that right Miss Mouse? Well?
Mouse: Might be! Neither of you would do it though, it takes too much to get you to bite! FYI that is sassing you.
Maîtres: No shit Sherlock! I’m warning you Mouse, do not push me, or I will hand your punishment over to Alex, do you understand me?
Mouse: Like is that meant to be a threat? He would not know where to start! Sir is a big fluffy pussycat. Lol he would just give me lines or ban me from my stuffies.
Maîtres: Mouse! That is enough, or he gets control. Do not push me girl, do you hear me!
Mouse: You’re both big fluffy pussycats. Na nah na nah!
Alex: Someone is for it now! Lol.
Mouse: Nah ah! You’re both too fluffy and sweet and cute to know what to do to me!
Maîtres: Right that does it little one, Alex what shall we do with the little fool? Hmm?
Alex: So many choices…. Spanking…. Edging…. positions….
Maîtres: Needs to fit the crime brother. Such sass and back chatting. Needs to sting brother.
Alex: 20 on each with the hairbrush, to start. Then edging with hands on the bed for 20 mins. Sound good?
Maîtres: Clothes off little one, in humble on the bed and make sure the iPad is positioned so Alex can watch. Understand?
Mouse: Nope hiding! You won’t find me!
Alex: £20 she’s under her blankets or in the shower?! Lol
Maîtres: Open the camera….
Maîtres: See I found her under her blankets, didn’t I? smile for Alex.
*turns me round roughly to face the camera and starts to strip me of my clothes roughly. Pushes me on the bed so I’m kneeling with my bottom facing the camera. Legs open and showing my pussy to Alex.
Alex: Lol you called it right my friend and that is a very nice smile Mouse
Maîtres: So, what shall Mouse get as a punishment? Any ideas Alex?
Alex: Oh, the possibilities are endless, such sass needs a fitting punishment.
Maîtres: Shall we ask Mouse?
*tosses mouse her phone*
Alex: How about the hairbrush?? Then you eat her out till she is about to cum, then back off, over and over, till she’s crying and begging to cum. She must keep her hands on the bed the whole time!
Mouse: Nah ah! How is sassing you worth that level of punishment? Jeepers! Next you will tell me that Alex must watch!!!!
Maîtres: lol Mouse, you forget, I don’t allow you to negotiate your own punishments. Who is in charge here? I think Alex is right, but I don’t know if he wants to watch? What do you think my friend? How many strokes brother?
Alex: 25 on each should do it and edging 10 times should do it
Mouse: Hey! He doesn’t get to choose about my butt and the blinkin’ hairbrush!
*giggling and sticking tongue out at Maîtres and Alex *
Maîtres: You’re right Mouse, he doesn’t, but I do, and I have decided to ask Alex’s advice.
Alex: Just asking my friend, did she tell you she’s been calling you ‘The Frog?’
Maîtres: No! lol oh little one you’re in so much trouble now. Get in humble now, arse to the camera and show Alex how well you take your punishment for me.
*hairbrush in hands, one strike after another landing on my upturned butt. I’m counting and saying thank you, but reach for my phone*
Mouse: Please Maîtres, please I need you!!!!!
Alex: Does somebody need punishment again, do they little one? What’s the matter, too much for that bum? Lol yeah right.
Maîtres: ROFL! Dude! What’s wrong Miss Mousey? Too much? Or is it making you wet? Come on Princess.
Mouse: No shy! Not telling you, I’m going to hide again.
*Drops hairbrush, grabs hold of me before I can move, plunging a finger into a very wet pussy, making me whimper and hide face in hands.
Maîtres: Oh, look here, someone is horny from a spanking! Oh, dear Mouse, looks like I need to show you how to behave again now. Alex, what shall we try this time?
Alex: Tell us what you’re thinking right now?
Mouse: Nah ah! Not happening?
Maîtres: Oh, come now little one! Tell Maîtres what you’re thinking, and I might let it happen. Or shall we get Alex to guess? 5 more for each wrong answer?
Alex: Ha-ha! Fluffy bunnies? Unicorns and rainbows? McDonald’s?
Mouse: No silly head! Still not telling.
Maîtres: Mouse, you will use your words and tell me and Alex right this minute. Do you understand me?
Mouse: Yes Maîtres. I was thinking about Alex’s pierced nipples.
Alex: Just my nipples? Oh, or do you mean the work out thing we spoke about?
Mouse: Nah ah! Can’t say to shy!
Maîtres: Use those words baby girl!
*turns to stare at Maîtres, first time he has ever called me baby girl. Makes me nearly cum on the spot*
Mouse: Yes, and how they would feel on my back as you fucked me up the arse and how your hands would feel on my boobs and clit.
Maîtres: You want to fuck Alex little one? That’s all?
Alex: I think there is more! Blown away by this little gem though!
Mouse: I want Maîtres to watch, as you fuck me hard from behind, make me cum and for Kitten to go down on him, while he watches.
Maîtres: Well done baby girl. What else?
Alex: Fucking hard as steel here! Lol
Mouse: Nah ah! Can’t!
Alex: Come on little one, use those words? You want to make Maîtres and me, proud, don’t you? Use those words.
Mouse: I want to ride Maîtres cock and I want your cock in my arse, to feel your piercings on my back and I want to be fucked without mercy.
Maîtres: What a lovely idea that is! Good girl, keep going?
Alex: Fuck me! You’re such a dirty little thing, aren’t you?
Mouse: I want Alex’s tongue on my clit, Kittens on mine and I want to make her scream. I want you to tell them what to do to me and I want to be made to beg.
Maîtres: Do you think we should allow that Alex? Do you think my baby girl should be allowed to have some fun with me and you?
Alex: I think your girl would like an empty hotel room and you and me tag teaming her.
Maîtres: Brother I think you’re right! Little One would you like that? What would you like to do?
Mouse: Can’t say, shy and hiding!
Alex: Little one, I want 100 words of what you want to do in that hotel room, right here in messenger, right now.
Maîtres: Do it girl, right now!
Mouse: I want to meet you both at the door on my knees, I want you to put on my lead, to crawl to the bed. I want to be made to serve you both and made to beg. I want to be spanked, flogged, and punished. I want to ride both of your cocks and in the arse. I want to cum over and over again, then made to clean both your cocks. I want pain, I want to be made to submit and to serve.
Alex: Fuck! Good girl!
Maîtres: That’s a girl! So proud of you. Shall I move to edging her a little or should she be allowed to cum?
Alex: Edging! If I was there I would fuck that tight pussy and eat that clit, to the point of cumming and then back off. To keep doing that over and over, until it gets painful and then ruin her.
Maîtres: Shall we try and make that happen soon little one? Would you like that?
Mouse: Yes, please Maîtres, please! Promise!!
Alex: I think I need to look at flights for a long overdue visit, don’t you think Tony?
Maîtres: I think so my friend! She is squealing at the idea. Brother going to sign off for a while, I think a certain baby girl needs some attention!
*spend the next 2 hours sucking, fucking and everything in between*
Maîtres: Brother, she’s sleeping on my chest right now, but THANK YOU! Someone turned into a little hell kitten after that! Jesus, she’s not going to be able to walk in the morning!!!
Alex: Pleasure brother! I enjoyed it a lot, watching her was epic my friend!
Maîtres: We must sort that visit out lol. It’s also the first time she’s let me call her baby girl. Fuck man!
Alex. Defiantly my friend.
Maîtriser: Going to have to leave it here, for now, someone is sucking my cock, again!

Masturbation Monday, Poly life

Afternoon itch….

Afternoon itch….
Do you ever get to a point, say mid afternoon that you’re just plain fucking horny? Well I do, alarmingly often these days. Being pregnant has sent my libido into overdrive lately. I get to nap time and it hits me full force, the tiniest thing makes me horny, to the point I normally have to make a desperate plea Maîtres be allowed to play and cum. It starts as a slight throb of my clit; my pulse picks up a little. I get a hot flush spread through my body, creeping slowly upwards and outwards warming my cheeks, flushing my breast, and turning my nipples to rock hard burning little nubs. The throbbing of my clit gets stronger and stronger, to the point of hurting. My breathing hitches up, I start to shake and feel like I would cum if I sneezed. It leaves me dripping wet and I am having to change my panties 2 or 3 times a day.
Another thing that seems to have happened is that I have gone from extremely submissive, to even more submissive. Not in a bad way, well I don’t think so. In a wanting to serve Maîtres and my other Dominates and big. To be used to bring them pleasure, without any regard for my own wants or needs. I want to be used, fucked, and make them cum.
This is what happened yesterday. I had watched Steve mowing the lawns in just shorts, no top and sweating with the exertion. The throbbing started and was rapidly building, causing a cramping feeling in my tummy. All I wanted to do was sink to my knees and worship his thick cock with my mouth and make him cum, hoping he lets my swallow. The only drawback is I’m not allowed to play without asking Maîtres first. I got up out of my chair, grabbed my iPad, praying that he was online, that he was in a good mood and that I would be allowed to play. He was, he was happy, and he said to go play, please and cum, but only if I wrote about it afterward. Well, that sent a gash to my pussy and my panties were drenched.
Steve was back in the house by this time, and I was needing to submit, and he has a beautiful cock. I stripped my clothes off in record time, ran my fingers through my hair and checked myself in the mirror. Then I crept downstairs to the living room, dropped to my knees and crawled as quietly as I could to where Steve was, relaxing in the leather armchair. Getting to about 6 ft from where he was, I cleared my throat. Steve’s eyes shot open, and I think his jaw hit the ground and his cock got stretch marks with the speed it jumped to attention. I crawled up to him and between his legs, I could feel the damp heat of his sweat as I lay my head on his knees. Looking down at me, I got ‘what girl?’ nuzzling my cheek into his cock and peering slightly, I looked up through lowered lashes ‘please’. That was met with a nod of the head and I swung into action.
Moving to a squatting position, I push Steve up and into a standing position. Pulling his shorts down, letting his cock spring free, not breaking eye contact the whole while. I take his cock in my hands and give it a few slow pumps and kiss the head, licking the pre-cum off it. I know how Steve likes a girl to go down on him, I knew not to go too hard and fast at the start. To take my time, using slow, deli part movements. That he likes his ball massaged, a finger runs around his ass hole, but not in it. He loves a slight corkscrew movement, that he likes to go as far down your throat as he can, even when you gag because of the size of him.
It heats up the minute his hand finds its way into my hair, gripping tightly and taking over full control, as he blissfully fucks my mouth. He grabs my hands in his paw like grip, making sure I don’t ‘cheat ‘. I can feel my juices running down my thighs. I have tears streaming down my face, from the force he is now using to fuck my throat. I know I look like a greedy little slut and I don’t give a flying fuck. Harder, faster and the more turned on I feel myself getting, I swear I’m making puddles on the floor. Then Steve’s grip tightens, his breathing speeds up and his thrust becomes deeper. Then with a roar, he cums, sending his delicious, hot cum down my throat. Squirt after squirt, hot, sweet, and salty. I almost cum there on the spot.
But then Steve is pulling me, bending me at the waist over the arm of an armchair, kicking my feet apart. He shoves three fingers into my pussy, curving them so they roughly hit my g-spot, while his thumb stabs at my clit. His other hand holds my neck down, so I can’t see what is happening, just feel. Then in a commanding tone, I get told ‘Come girl, now, this second.’ Every contract, over and over as I cum, with a scream. It’s so intense that my eyes roll back in my head, and so total that I squirt so hard and so much that I feel it hitting the floor and my feet. If it had not been for his strong arm and the armchair, I would have been in a heap on the floor. I was shaking, sweating and not quite sure what was going on. It was only Steve stroking my back telling me I was a good girl, then I came back down to earth. Standing me up straight and showing his hand covered in my cum. Out of instinct I stuck his fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. Steve collapsed into the chair and we spent the next 15 minutes making out and coming back down to earth, which was almost as lovely as playing with his cock.
Sometimes I need to do things like this. They are not just acts of service and submission, but they are acts of bravery and empowerment. I knew what I needed, I went after it and got my reward. It takes a strong woman to know what she wants and an even stronger one to go after it. So what if I needed to crawl on my knees, ask a guy to let me suck his cock and to use me? I’m happy, loved, and safe. I have my right to live how I want, and that is as a proudly submissive woman, who is a little bad sass with it!

https://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/masturbation-monday-204/

From the heart, musings of pixie heart, social

Bullied

Over the last 72 hours I have been party to some pretty vile bullying on twitter. Why? I replied to a question about collars with a photo of me in a collar , and some vile troll didn’t like it. They went on to throw abuse at me on twitter and in my DM . I blocked and reported to them . But they started on maîtser and publicly saying they hated ‘chubbies’ . This really unsettled, hurt and bought back all my body image problems. But what hurt more than the bulling was people seemed to agree with her and also liked her comments. It felt like she was being validated.

I’m not a skinny mini, never will be. But right now I’m pregnant and a little sensitive about the way I look. I get that people are allowed to have an opinion and free speech, but I also know how damaging it can be. (DonnyJ 🤭) . How many hundreds of teen girls and boys end up with eating disorders, self harming or killing the self because of vile words and taunts?

Thankfully I ranted, cried and reached out this time. But in the past this would meant I would of done something stupid . I’m super blessed to have friends, like my lovely little andronic that I can go ‘ does this look fat to you’ to, and get a ‘No ‘ but other people don’t have the love and support I do.

So I’m asking everyone to do a few things to fight bullies.

  1. If you see someone being bullied, offer help. Whether that’s an ear, stepping in or reporting what you’ve seen.
  2. Call bullies out, most of them are stupid idiots and back straight down
  3. Unfriend, Unfollow, report and block them. Take their spot light away.
  4. Never tell someone who is being bullied to get over it, ignore them or your stronger than them. It’s not helpful and in many cases it will hurt them more .
  5. Lastly if you are being the bully, stop it and think about what you words and actions can actually do.

Hugs,

Pixie

From the heart

A mother’s love.

I’m not entirely sure pixie will thank me for posting this, but I felt the world needed to read this and have this in it! it’s heartbreakingly beautiful, full of a very pure and simply love, and proves how worried pixie was on Saturday night. I’m not going to go in to what is wrong with pixie, why she is in the hospital, what brought this on or what made it a lot worse. that’s not my place , but she is on the mend now and that is what maters the most.

Dearest darlings, Connie, Evie, and Hunter.
I am sat writing this letter to you in hospital, praying with every fiber of my being that you have to read this when you are old and grey. But knowing that it is more likely that you will be reading it when your too young to understand its meaning. I know you will forgive me for not being strong enough to hold on and see you reach the dizzying heights that I know you are going to reach. I’m writing this because I want you to know some things that I can’t tell you as babies, but you need to know.
The first thing is the simplest thing I can tell you, yet the most n thing I have to tell you all. I love you, I always have, and always will. I don’t have to be with you, to know that the is nothing in this world that will or could stop me from loving you. You have so many people around you who love you, but apart from your daddy, nobody loves you as much as I do. I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you, but I do. It will never die and will be with you always.
Now to the man you call ‘Daddy’. He is the most wonderful man to of ever walked the earth. He is strong, caring, loving, sweet, funny, and probably a little crazy. He is the love of my life, my best friend, guide, partner in crime and protector. He came in to my life when I was 19 years old, but it was years before I was brave enough to admit I loved him. He helped my fight when I had given up on myself, refusing to fight my demons for me. No, he did something far more important, he stood by my side, while I battled them myself and held my hand when I needed him to. He taught me what ‘home’, ‘safe’, ‘self-respect’ and ‘belief’ mean. Things I have made him promise you will always know. But the reason I adore him some much, is that he loved me, with scares, broken bits and bruised, even when I couldn’t.
Now to things I want, you to know and you will need to have a good life. You are you, always be yourself, for yourself. No two people are the same, you are all unique, and equal. Take pride in everything you do but be humble in everything you do. Love freely, fiercely and with your heart and soul. Cry when you need to, scream when you need to, break when you have to, and bend when you can. Do not judge others, but never allow yourself to be judge. Be respectful of all people, but expect that respect in return, and never let anyone treat in a manner that makes you ashamed of who you are. Stand up for what you believe in, fight each other’s corner, and use your voices for good. Stand up for those who need you to but know when you need to ask for help. Be kind, gentle and generous. Be strong, brave, and fierce. Never raise a hand in anger, irritation, or frustration. Never raise your voice to talk over others, raise your argument. Above all know you are the closets thing to perfect that I have ever seen.
I’m so sorry I had to leave my darlings, but I had too. I could not stay forever, however much I wanted too. You are my heart and my loves, always and forever.
All my love,
Mummy x

Kitten

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart

High cliffs.

I have a place that I go, in my mind when I become totally overwhelmed by life. Whether its

sadness, anger, pain, anxiety, or fear that send me, it’s the same place, a sort of high cliff

Inside my head. The emotions build gradually, I can see it happening, I try to stop it happening.

But as it grows, it builds faster and faster, till I can’t stop it.

Then I’m on my high cliff, all alone. It high steeply falling ledges, sharp, jagged rocks. On the

top of this high cliff, its open and the is no place to hide. the is either bright, harsh, hot

sunshine. Or Heavy rain and howling winds. Every part of my body hurts. Light and sounds

become physically painful. My tummy is in knots, I can hardly breath, with sweaty palms and

shacking from head to toe. It’s so high, I can’t see the ground or away down. The only way

down seems to be jumping.

So how do I/ we deal with this? Well maîtres would say that to heal and become whole again, is

to first break apart, and for me that is true. I need to shatter and then build myself up again.

But breaking apart is hard to do and can in its self be painful. It sometimes takes a therapy

spanking or kicking the crap out of a punch bag or someone pushing me mentally but sometimes

I need someone to talk me down. But it always ends with shattering and sobbing in whoever

saved me arms.

After breaking apart, I need to rebuild myself. Nobody can do it for me, it must come from me.

I need love, support and understanding If I need help I will ask for it. I need people in my life

that are consistent, open, and gentle. who will approach with care, but more than anything I need

people to stand by my side as I fight my way back up off the floor, and hold my hand while I do it.

family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart, social, 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, social

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