And we give ourselves away..

I'm a little faded at the moment. Normally, the sound of my raucous laugh, the bounce of my dreadlocks, and my sheer in-your-face enthusiasm for life gets me compared to a cheerful labrador. But right now, I feel more like one of those old and battered bull terriers with grey round their muzzles, struggling to do the things they used to enjoy so much, when they really just want to be at home sleeping and remembering better days.

I've given my heart away twice this year. Both times it's ended badly. The most recent loss has knocked me hard, draining away my joy in life, my energy, and my bounce. Much as it's correct to think that he/she/they weren't right for me anyway, losing loved ones - even if it's your own choice to walk away, because you know you have to - can turn everything into shades of black and white and grey. I'm colourless. I normally treat every situation, be it frivolous or serious, by throwing humour at it (usually grossly inappropriate sexual humour, often with embarassing results..). It's very unlike me to be unsmiling for so long.

Of course there's been a helluva lot of other stuff going on this year. Going from a monogamous, married for 14 years, vanilla existence, to discovering play, realising how much I loved and needed it, then opening up our relationship, a major operation with a long recovery time (me), and a recent serious episode of illness (for my husband) have drained the bottom of my 'coping skills' tank. I'm tired.

I'm very lucky that my husband knows just how to help me. Frequent application of tea, cuddles, listening and occasional supportive comments, are the equivalent of handing me a paintbrush and pallet, letting me begin the process of adding a little glimmer of pigment to the outlines of the future stretching out in front of me. He really is a most amazing man.

BDSM was the key that unlocked the door. I'm just at the very beginning of understanding where that door can take me. I've just begun to touch the edges of what it could mean to be sexually fulfilled, after a lifetime of not being so. I'm a deeply sexual person, the passion and the needs built up in me after neglecting that side of myself for so long can be overwhelming at times, both for me, and for others.

Sometimes I wish the door had never opened. It would certainly be simpler that way. But now that I know what's there, what I could have - I can't live in black and white forever. I need pain. I do not want to give up control, I want it to be taken from me. I need to have the anger beaten out of me. I want to be loved. And I need to know what being fucked feels like. Preferably before I'm dead, thankyou.

But I'll take my time. Because I need to learn to shut some of the doors around my heart, and because it is quite possible to be TOO open, too honest, too loving. I don't think there's much chance I'll ever become jaded or guarded, but I need to grow up very quickly and grow out of the naivety that my inexperience with sexual relationships has burdened me with.

Phoenixes are colourful birds.