Beautiful Fog

It seems I'm quite conscious of my own desire not to let a full calendar month go by without coming back to post here. I kind of like that. Perseverance? Good habits? One way or another, it seems like a positive thing. I work tomorrow, and it is becoming very late. I will get less than six hours of sleep. But I'm okay with that. I'm not worried, even though my scheduled shift is longer than most. It took a while, but I've become quite comfortable with my work, and far less worried that I'm somehow not doing it well enough. My co-workers, by and large, seem to like me and consider me a good worker.

Tonight I went out walking, just to be walking, as I haven't for a while. Along the path just South of the river, a path that is fairly familiar to me, I wandered through banks of deep fog under a full moon, and felt as though I were wandering through myth, a marsh world of old Irish fairy tales. For a moment, a fallen leaf across my path looked like a giant slug. A skunk skittered across my path, and stopped, startled by the presence of this big creature, to look at me, and I think I heard it hiss, though perhaps it was the sound of it stomping against the pavement, before continuing on.

The fog was beautiful... And oddly, I felt no particular need for it to feel unnatural or magical. The whole matter was evocative but felt very down to earth. Happy, peaceful... My life has become like this. Though I am restless, and worry from time to time about when and whether I will end up doing more with my artistic and idealistic ambitions, I am content with my life right now. I work easy hours for low pay, doing something I enjoy with people I have developed a fond working familiarity with, for the most part. I can afford to live simply with a few luxuries, and my life has been such that I can very much appreciate what I have. Bunny boy and I are planning to move into a classy apartment together come this October, which will be no more expensive than our current separate living arrangements, but I have little doubt it will be much richer. He has said that he has a hard time imagining anything short of sudden, tragic death ending our new, flourishing relationship, despite the fact that it has had its own challenges and bumps. This is only one of many marks of the goodness of this match. Even my relations with Pup are not as stressful, if only because I feel I can accept how stressful they sometimes are, which puts me in a position of confidence and calm from which I am much better equipped to comfort him.

If I feel the urge to write again soon, you know I'll be in touch. Until then... Serenity.

To Share The Cup That Runneth Over

Someone on FetLife was asking for peoples' perspectives on the influence of our past parental abuse on those of us who have been abused and how it relates to our own desire to have, or to avoid having, children. Her voice was impassioned and full of a great deal of understandable internal conflict. It's clear she wants the good things that come with having children, and desperately wants to love and care for someone, but realizes that her scars may get in the way, and doesn't want to be a bad parent.

I would like to share my response with you all.

The best way I feel I can answer this is to tell my own stories related to it. 

I was inspired by the subtle, psychological abuses of my childhood to be vehemently vocal about bad parenting when I see it, especially when parents become frustrated with their childrens' natural curiosity and desire to learn, seeing virtually anything other than quiet obedience as disobedience, even when they only the actions of a young, inexperienced human engaged with the world and trying to gain the experience required to be a wise, functional adult.
And then later, I found VHEMT. 

I am not convinced that the human race has no chance of improving and willfully evolving socially and morally to progressively better states, and therefore don't think I actually want us to go extinct, but I definitely would prefer to see a smaller human race, with more quality, and less quantity, of life. The fewer people there are to share resources with, the bigger everyone's fair share can be. 

And this is why I've decided never to give birth, even though the thought is a fetish of mine.
However, it doesn't mean I don't want to be a mother.
I am still scarred and rendered dysfunctional by my own past abuses. In many ways the wisdom and sensitivity gained from my suffering has made me a generally very patient and level-headed person, but I am also prone to fits of anxiety and rage. Furthermore, I am young, and at the very beginning of my career. 

But someday, if I have greater financial stability, and if I have healed further and feel less controlled by my overpowering emotions, I will almost certainly want to participate in the growing and nurturing of children who were not born to me. I may foster-parent, or adopt. Or I may find my way into a nurturing role in my profession, or find my way into a household that accepts me in a role as a supportive carer and guardian to the children of someone else. 

Personally, I find it hard to believe that any child, even in the best and most well-adapted of families, could not benefit from one more loving, supportive adult in their life to encourage them to be the best that they could be; And equally hard to believe that any parent, even with the best luxuries and availability of resources and time, would not benefit from one more loving, supportive adult who could share the stresses of caring for a child when they become taxing, and thus prevent the build-up of frustration that can lead to that frustration being inappropriately taken out on the child. 

But to answer the question that stood out most to me in your post...
"If you feel, like you have love and tender loving care to give, who do you direct that energy to, if it is not kids?" 

Why... To everyone, of course. Neighbors going through hard times. Co-workers. Friends. And definitely lovers, whether they be short or long term. Absolutely everyone, not only children, and to be sure not only our own blood children, can use some Tender-Loving-Care. It is one of the greatest weaknesses of our Western society that we tend to forbid one another from taking responsibility for one another, and in turn, we forbid one another from asking for badly needed help. 

If you have love and Tender-Loving-Care to give, and you find no-one receiving it, if your cup runneth over with no-one to drink... Go to your best friends and congenial workmates, go to your lovers and partners and crushes, and if it is permissible within their circles, then go to theirs... go to those people with whom you can easily empathize, and encourage them to draw from your well of kindness whenever they are thirsty. 

All too frequently the only socially acceptable answer, to create a new life in to nurture and build up, because for some incredibly stupid reason we have been forbidden to nurture and build one another, is the only one that comes to mind. But especially for those of us who are damaged and who runneth over, but sometimes also run dry... We know in our doubts that creating a life for our love and care, and then becoming overwhelmed and filling it up also with our frustrations and tempers, becoming bad parents... Is all too real a possibility. 

Before you forge a new cup that you may not be able to fill all by yourself, then... I encourage you to seek out all of those cups near to your heart that are beginning to run low, and ask gently and patiently for permission to refill them. Break the stupid rules that forbid us from caring, mothering and looking out for one another. It is, of course, a delicate dance, and important not to be overbearing, but simply to be loving and available. But it's a well-known fact that parenting isn't easy. And this holds true whether the people you're parenting are children, or blood family, or not. 

I hope this helped.

To Be Happy

This may be the best night of my life.

The day... was beautiful. I went out and bought a birthday present for my Robby that was both expensive enough it made me reflect on how incredibly much more I can afford to do now that I'm working, and something I'm sure he'll love.

I stopped to play piano again at MSP for the first time in a long time, and got praise showered upon me again for it.

On the way home, there was a sudden, intense cloudburst shower, and I grinned and laughed and giggled at people I passed while walking home.

I cooked a fine meal.

This evening, my mother messaged me. After a string of passive aggressiveness and clumsy attempts to force me to take responsibility for her long abuse of me in my childhood, I told her with extraordinarily satisfying malice that if she kept sending me messages tonight, I would block her, just like I blocked Pup for a month, when he deserved it. I gave her the same three. She only used one more, and logged off. She made it such an awful one that I was tempted to block her anyway, but Robby talked me out of it. I must have finally remembered Dan Savage's words, in that one video... "Your leverage over your parents is your participation in their lives."

Later that night, Damon came for a visit, and I mothered the heck out of him. I made sure he was well fed, and gave him food to take with him, as he has not had enough in his pantry of late. At the bus stop before he left... He kissed me...

I had either forgotten how good his kisses were, or he's gotten better at it since it last happened.

...I guess we still have that old spark glowing strong.

And then I went to see Robby, who after all is now my primary, and after a dramatic romantic moment with someone else, deserves my reaffirmations and attention.

And I found a new and interesting way to completely blow his mind.

...

This may be the best night of my life.

I think I'm in subspace.

Wheeeeeeeeeeee.

Oh, yes. One more thing. Possibly the most important thing of all. Before I fought with my mom, I... While frustrated with my own moodiness because I was getting upset at Robby for something silly, and didn't want to be upset...

I thought to myself, and realized...

I want to be happy.

I actually. Want. To be happy.

Not just to not be feeling this, not just for the misery to go away.

To be happy.

...And here I am...