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

Eroticon, family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life, socail

Where in the world is Pixie Heart?

So, I have been posting and been around, but not really been ‘Around ‘of late. By that I mean I have been a little distant, a little distracted and felt a little bit outside of things. It’s not the nicest of feelings in the world, hell it’s horrid, but it has been kind of unavoidable really.

Why? I hear you cry. Well for one I have been rushed off my feet getting ready for Crufts. I’m not only working and teaching at the event this year, but all my dogs are there too. Don’t get me wrong it will be amazing, it is amazing every year, but it’s a planning and logistical nightmare. My boss has been epicly helpful and said that the babies can work on the stand. Basically, they are going to be strapped to different people in their carries and used to itemise people to come say hello. Which they are going to love as they love having chats and meeting people!

Then we come to the Elephants in the room. The big nasty that is Cancer has struck my family. My Uncle Keith had been struggling with chest infections and breathing difficulties for the last couple of months and his GP finally sent him for a chest x-ray. It sadly showed that he had tumours on his lungs. Well after scans and biopsies, it turns that the is nothing that can be done. It is a very aggressive cancer, it has spread, and he has a matter of months left. Then the is my mother’s cancer. We had thought she was going to beat it, but sadly not. The treatment is not working, the is nothing else that will work, and she has 3 to 6 months left. Now I may seem a little like I don’t really care about the fact they are both going to die. I do, I care very much, but I don’t see the point in sitting round wailing over it. Cancer is a bastered of an illness, it has taken a lot of people I love. It kills people slowly and painful. The best thing I can do is stay strong, keep going and be there when people need me. I have a life and people who need me to keep going, not crumble in to a ball and give up.

I have a lot of good things in pipe line. For all the stress it brings I am looking forward to crufts. I get to see my friends and shop for my dogs! Then the is Eroticon the weekend after. Lol I’m treating it as a holiday. No husband, babies, dogs, or house work for a weekend, in London, on my own! Truthfully, I’m terrified, but I’m going if it kills me. It will be good for me on so many levels, I just have keep moving the worry and doubts I have about myself and my abilities. Lol the Boss man said if I get through it on my own I get 20 reward stickers. The 5 days leading up to Eroticon I am teaching secturely dog handlers. which is always fun!

The changes I made with the help of the boss man at the start of the year have finally started to make them selves know so to speak. I’m happier and less stressed. I’m sleeping better and coping with some of the crap that life throws at me. my health, is getting better and I’ve stopped freaking out if I get a sniffle or cough. My writing schedule is working amazingly well and I’m making time to write more than I thought I would. It is amazing that by giving the boss man more control and having a heap more structure in my day, how much happier it makes me and the more settled I become. I had some say recently that they don’t know how I cope with being in something that is so high protocol and that the rules I have are too restrictive for me to feel truly happy. but it is in fact the other way around for me. Without the protocols, rule, and structure, I feel lost, anxious, and deeply unhappy. What I have would not work for may people, but it does work for me.

Well that turned in to a rant rumble, but hay hum!

Pixie x

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Uncategorized

My #Metoo

My #Metoo.
Warning- this post is going to contain domestic violence, mental and sexual abuse, sexual assault, rape, self-harm, and attempted suicide.
So, I have thought long and hard about writing this, and until a few weeks ago I would have told that I was not strong enough or I was not read. But over the last few weeks I have been reading a lot of #Metoo blog post and they have helped come to terms with what happened to me and changed my way of thinking. I had not realised how much something that I had very little if any control over has been holding me back and how much I let it affect me still. So, with the blessing of Maîtriser and the approval of my therapist I’m going to write it down and then move forward without it weighing me down anymore. I need to let it go and forgive myself, because even now after everything I still feel it was partly my fault for not leaving or speak up about what was happening. So, I’m going to do this and not look back on it anymore. It is going to leave stripped bare and showing all my scares. But I must do this, cos I don’t want to hide it anymore. So here goes.
I meant my ex-husband when I was just 17 and doing my A – levels. I was on a night out with friends and I spilt my drink on his shoes. We go to talking and he bought cocktails. he was 24, in the forces and in a position of power. He was charming, clever, handsome, and confident. Everything I wasn’t. at first he made me feel loved and cared for , but also let me know I was lucky to be with him. He was also from the start very demanding sexually. After a few months he became very possessive and controlling, but I was flattered that he wanted to be with me.
After passing my A- levels I started at university in London. This marked a period of my relationship that I found very hard. Every time he went on a tour of duty we would break up, I would not see or hear from him for months at a time. I would try and move on with my life, only for him to come back and us to make up, and my world got turned upside down, over, and over.
It was this time that I met My Darling Kitten. She was in the year above me and was stunning. She has a very quiet nature, but is also a very loving and passionate lady. When I was broken up with !”$£ we dated and had some of the best sex I had ever had. She was a submissive with a dominate, and it was her who took me to my first ever fetish club. I met her Dom (The boss man) and we became friends and he took me under his wing and looked out for me.
When I was back together with!($£ I came out to him as bi and told him I thought I might be a submissive. He was a little shocked at first, but soon came around to the idea, deciding he was going to be my master and I his whiling Slave (I’m not a slave, I am submissive.) Instead of the caring and loving D/s I had seen in clubs, this wasn’t what we had. I was humiliated, I had no rules, no safe word or the right to say no. He also used this a weapon against me and to get his own way. I guess this also where the physical abuse started really. The odd kick or slap here and there, were in his eyes just punishments. He started coming o clubs with me and Kitten, he even met the Boss Man. He was controlling, but also made very free with offering my body to other people. Letting them touch me without asking and ordering me to do things I was not happy doing. It left me feeling dirty, used degraded and hurting, but I thought I loved him and after all the had to be some suffering as a submissive, right? He also started bringing people in to our sex life, that I was not attracted to nor did I want to be friends with them. Drugs and alcohol were used by him and others. But I refused to take illegal drugs, and I got the beatings for it.
After I finished university and after work in in Paris for 2 years, we moved in together in a house that I had bought from my parents. For a while things were ok and almost stable, almost. But after he left the forces and we got engaged that when things got bad. The odd slap or kick turned in to full on beatings, that left my broken and bleeding. Living together meant that I had no freedom what so ever. I worked long hours in the film industry and when I got home, it was like walking on egg shells. The slightest thing would set him off. He checked my phone, my emails and I was given very little money. He controlled who I saw and when. I became isolated from my friends and most of my family. But I still went through with marring him, as by then I was so ground down I did not see any way out. My sister was worried and thankfully she made sure the money I had inherited from my godmother. He also became extremely sexually aggressive and demanding. My life had become a living hell and it was getting worse by the day.
Then came the final limit. He came home and told me he had another woman pregnant and needed money for her to ‘take care of it’. For so reason red and decided enough was enough. I told him to leave, I scream at him to get out and never come back, and I through cup at his head. But that was just a red rag to a bull and he lost it.
He grabs me by the wrest and dragged me upstairs to are bedroom and slammed the door. He placed his had round my throat and squeezed till I blackout. I came around a little while later, in pain and bleeding. when he noticed I was awake well that was when the nasty stuff happened. For the next 4 hours of was beaten, sexual assaulted, raped, and chocked till I past out. Then a suddenly as it all started it ended. He fell asleep and that is when I got up and made a run for safety. I hide in my offices, locking the door and called my friend Steve. To be honest I don’t remember much after that. The was Steve, police, examinations, and pain. I tried to hide a way and block it out, pretending that I was fine and could cope.
The truth was, I wasn’t, I was fulling apart. I wasn’t sleeping or eating. When I did try to sleep I had flash backs to what had happened. I felt dirty, shammed, and broken. Yes, I had survived, but I was I hell and wished I had died. with the police involved and everyone knowing what had happened just wanted to hide. But I put on a front of being ‘ok’. I then started to lose time and I would find myself in places I did not remember going to.
Now this is the part that I am so ashamed of and hate myself for the most. I could not take the mental pain I was in, leaving in fear or the total lose of control. I was tired mind, body, and soul. I saw no future and that was what made me decided that the world would be better off without me. So, I stopped taking the meds I used to keep myself healthy. I got a months’ worth of my pain killers, antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds and a bottle of vodka. Took them all and laid down and waited for the pain to end. Lully, I was found and got to hospital in time to save my life. But hospital was hell, I was frightened and alone. I text Kitten to say what had happened and that is when she came back in to my life.
Her, Babe and maîtriser swooped in and came to look after me. They offered me love, care and support. The kept me safe and guided me, but gave me the space to put myself back together again. They saw past the adult and rape victim and saw me.
It wasn’t all plan sailing. I spent 3 months in a cardiac rehab centre. I was under the care of a psychiatrist and can. I had to see a therapist and can, and had therapy 3 times a week. I had to deal with the full out with my family and friends. Then the was the whole court and prosaicism thing, but I got through it somehow.
It has take a lot of hard work and dedication for me to take my life back. The have been heralds, set backs and very low points. I’m still not fixed, and I don’t ever think I will be 100% fixed.
But what I have found is that I am the me I need to be. I have a life now that makes me happy and I feel fulfilled for the first time in my life. I am still working on myself, but who isn’t? so for now I’m the me I need to me to be.
The one thing I want to say and ask of who ever reads this, please don’t see me as a victim and feel sorry for me. I am fighting back from what happened to me. It could of beat me, but I have chosen to live, I am a saviour and a warrior, not a victim, don’t treat me like one.

From the heart, socail, Uncategorized

#metoo #ustoo #wehearyou

#metoo #ustoo #ihearyou

So, the #metoo hash tag has been sweeping across the interweb in a show of solidarity to the whole, vile Harvey Weinstein affair. Thousands of Woman and Men sharing their stories of sexual harassment, sexual assault, and rape. I have been impressed by people’s bravery, Saddened, and deeply troubled by some of things I have read, an amazed at the amount of support that I have seen others offer victims. I have also got very angry that still after all this some people think that it’s just hype and some of it is the woman’s fault, still in 2017.
The other thing I have found troubling is a sort of pressure from people for other ‘victims ‘to share their stories, even if they are still processing what happened to them, without care that by doing so could cause the victim even more pain, harm, and distress. I guess that is why I felt I needed and wanted to write about this. I am a survivor of domestic violence, rape and serve mental, physical, and sexual abuse. I have spoken a little about it in the past, I am still dealing with it, every day, and at this point in my life I am not ready to share more. So how can I write anything for this or do more than listen to others?
It was over lunch a few days ago with the girls and my Great Aunt May that we got to talking about it. I said I felt I needed to share, but was not sure if I wanted to talk about it more than I had. Aunty May piped up with ‘well why don’t you share other stories, so they have a voice, but don’t have to share it themselves.’ I think that was a light bulb moment for me, help others share and be their voice! So, we talked about it and aunty may and the girls shared their stories. we got to talking it over dinner and Big Steve (my personal trainer) shared his story, and later that night via skype one of my best male friend shared his story with me. They have all said it is ok to write down what happened to them, in the chance it helps someone else. So here are their stories.
Great Aunty May 82 – Now for any of you that don’t know much about my Aunty May, she is the feisty, vocal, and strong minded and strong-willed head of my daddy’s side of the family. She is also one of the cleverest, most full of life and love and the most spirted people I have ever known. She was born in 1935 in Ballygowan in county down, Northern Ireland. She is a devote catholic, as were all her family. Growing up she saw that the church and the priest ward was that of god and you agreed with it. Girls who did would be sent to the reformatory schools or the Magdalen launderers. May recalled that at the age of 14 she was asked to help at the local presbytery after school. She had heard awful stories of thing going on there and that several of the girls had been sent to the feared launders. A few weeks in to working there, one of the priest offered to help peg out some sheets with her. While caring a heavy basket of wet sheets, he came up behind her and grouped her chest and tried to rub himself against her leg. Terrified and sacked she screamed, dropped the washing and this caused the priest to stop his assault. She left that day and after begging her mother to not send her back. Aunty May said she never spoke to anyone, except her older sister Irene (my nana), who said that they should stay quiet and pray that the priest never touched another girl. Fast forward 6 years and May found herself working as a Nanny to a posh society family in New York City, a very different place than her small village that she grew up in. She loved her job and the freedom it gave her. But she was homesick and sometimes was left tearful. The father of the family seemed very kind and always seemed to have words of comfort. It was on one of her low moments that her boss made her move. Her cornered in the kitchen, kissed her very hard while grabbing her wrists and pinning them to her side. Thankfully she managed to knee him hard in the balls and run and lock herself in the bathroom. She was dismissed the next morning and turned out on the streets with very little money, no job, and a very long way from home. thankfully NYC has a very large Irish community and she was taking in and found a new job within days! Again, she never talked about this till years later, fearing how people would look at her or how they would judge her. She survived, stayed strong and has lived a full and happy life. She says ‘A man or woman has not right to try and take anything be force. I would urge people who anything like this happens to speak up and to not keep it hidden, you have done nothing wrong’
Babe, 40 – Babe is are family little d. She is the sassy, strong and fearless. She is the one who the boss man leaves in charge when he must work away or if we are out and about without him. She recalls in her first job as a junior hair dresser, her 45-year-old male boss would make suggestive comments and lude remarks. He would always brush up against the joiners and made her feel uncommittable with the way he acted. Being only 17 she kept quiet and kept her head down not wanting to rock the boat. A few years later she was when she had just discovered her love for women (she’s bi-sexual), she was hanging out on Brighton’s gay scene a lot. On one night out the was a random drunk straight guy in the club that she was in. he seemed to latch on to babe and babe being a friendly lass and feeling a little sorry for him danced with him. After they danced he started trying to ply her with strong drinks, started to get a little handsy and said, ‘she was too pretty to be a less, he was going to turn her straight’. He started trying to kiss a drunk babe and shoved a hand up her top. The club had some amazing door staff who saw what was going on and pulled him off her. He was frog marched out of the club, in to a waiting police car and later the next day was charged. He pleaded guilty and got 8- hour of community service. Babe said that ‘if you ever end up in this predicament and you want to feel like justice has been dealt? Then go to the police. Yes, it is hard and yes, it’s frightening, but the police are there for this sort of thing. I was treated with respect, compassion and kindness.’
Emit, 43 – Emit is one of my best friends. We meet when I was working in Paris and bounded over are love of all things art nivo . Sweet, fun, and extremely talented. (he made my wedding dress). We were both dating the wrong guy and were being treated like crap. But both loving each and just wanting to be happy, we stayed quiet. Roll on the years and Emit and his partner Kirt got married, I was grooms’ maid. It was at the wedding it became clear to me that something was very wrong with Emit. He was a shadow of himself and had become withdrawn and timid. after 8 months of marriage, on a visit to the uk from Albany, on his own, a wan down Emit told me how bad things were. Kirt had been using emotional and verbal abuse and blackmail, to get Emit in to sexual activity that he was not commutable or happy with taken part in. he said he did not know how much more he could take. I was terrified that when he left to go home, I was going to get a phone call to say that he had taken his own life or something worse. I did get a phone call, but It was Emit to say that he had kick Kirt out. Was very proud of him, knowing how hard it was for him to do that. 6 months on he is still rebuilding himself, but us getting more like his old self every day. Emit added that ‘For so long I have seen Men hit on women or other men, in ways that make the mind boggle as to how their brain is working. Why would grabbing some one’s ass or trying to get handiest on a first date be likely to make the person to want more dates? Just stop being a dick and treat them with respect and dignity’
Kitten, 38 – Both kitten and I have worked on and off as dresser with in the Film and TV industry on and off over the years. The things we have seen at times have been enough to make you sick to your stomach, but the sake of keeping jobs we kept quiet. it is some sort vile unwritten rule that these sorts of things happen. From lude comments, to over friendly touching and to well a lot worse. From a personal level she has had men who she has overseen their wardrobe that have gotten erections form her dressing them. They always say, sorry I can’t help it, or you should be flattered really. But it can be helped, it’s not just a natural thing, and hell no we ‘ant flattered about it! Kitten wanted to make sure I added this last part, as a lot of this #metoo has focused on women and men being victims of men saying and doing stuff. She wanted to make a point that some women do this stuff too. Her ex-girlfriend, used emotional blackmail and abuse, to ware her down to the point that she would let her do stuff to her that she was not happy with. It led to kitten to become extremely depressed and was a big part of why she suffered a relapse of her eating disorder last year.
• Little Bear, 25 – So my sweet little bear has had a rough time for someone of her age. He first proper boyfriend at the age of 14, was in Lb’s words a numpty spunk muppet! He was a couple of years older and was a bit of a bully. He made her feel worthless and like she weird for not wanting to be giving him blow jobs or letting him do things to her. He also wanted her to take topless pic of herself, but being close to her mum, she went to her with his text. she in turn went to the school and they came down hard on the lad, why after an investigation got kicked out of the school. Fast forward a few years and at the age of 18 on a night out she got off with a guy and gave him her number. Waking up the next morning, she soon learned that she had made a huge mistake when she found 5 missed calls, 4 voice mails and 30 texts from this guy. She texts him to say that she did not want to take things any farther and thought nothing more of it. Well he turned out to be a nasty piece of work. the text and calls kept coming, he somehow got hold of her Facebook and twitter id’s, then found out where she works. Basically, her turned in to a stalker and not in a ‘I love you and will do anything for you’. It got to the point that he was threatening her with extrema sexual violence. That was when we as her friends stepped in and made her to go to the police. Who again were brilliant, arrested him, charged him and he plead guilty to all charges. He was sent to prison for 9 months. We later found out he had spent time in jail for hurting his ex-female partner. She wanted to say as well ‘never suffer in silence, talk to someone, anyone, but talk to someone’
Big Steve, 43 – Big Steve is one of the Boss Man’s best friends. He is a doorman and Personal trainer. He is 6 ft. tall, blond, blue eyes, and muscles. He is handsome, and I guess his what you would call ‘Eye candy’. However, he is a very sensitive guy and one of the deepest and must caring people in this world. He is my personal trainer and I have seen how woman can act towards him. The stares, the giggles and flirting. The are also the women who make remarks about his looks, who are very touchy feely and who make him feel like a piece of meat. Sadly, he has also been assaulted by a woman he was training. She flirts openly with him and Steve shut her done. he was at the time in a very committed relationship however carried on with the flirting and became extremely touchy feely. Then on a very early morning training session she decided to move things along, came up behind him and slipped her hands into his shorts. Steve jumped, pushed her hands away and went shout at her, saying ‘what the hell are you playing at’. This was heard by his manager, who had seen what was happening and how the woman had been acting towards Steve. She was escorted from the building, band from the gym and Steve was asked if he wanted to go to the police, he declined. As being a bloke, he felt they would not be taken seriously.
So that is are tales we wanted to share for the #metoo. We also have some advice we wanted to offer some advice, so here we go.
• If you see it happening, then find a way to help and speak out about it.
• If it happens to you speak out if you can and if it is safe to do so.
• If not, find someone to talk to, a friend, someone you work with or family member and ask for help.
• If you need to, go to the police and report what has happened to you. they will take it seriously and will treat you with respect.
• Get help to proses what has happened to you.
• Never feel that you are to blame, you have not done anything wrong.
• Hold your head high and feel proud of yourself for serving and for speak out.
We also wanted to add, if the is anyone out there who needs someone to talk to, we are all here to listen. simply mail any of us at Pixieheartblog@hotmail.com