The Corona Borealis.

If you rewind back to here [+]  there is an image of me, on my knees, my husband's his boot is pressed into my back - and it really wasn't an erotic experience. During that BDSM phase I partitioned the probability that his version of domination wouldn't reach me, whilst hoping that that could change eventually . A whole universe of catastrophically traumatic memories were locked in my body. I'd experienced the splitting that occurs when one's body reacts in a way that the mind cannot accept, and I wanted to go back there, to re-experience that with someone I trusted; to restore my sense of being able to chose, and to take back control.  So, all this is difficult to unravel, perhaps the most difficult thing for me to pick up on as I recall my experiences, is the role transgression plays. My guess is that the transgression has to break the submissive's rules, to create the altered state known as subspace . Kit calling me a minx, was not exactly the best example o...

Bad therapy intrigues me at the moment.  Because none of us want to be bad therapists, and all of us have written thousands of words describing what good therapy is, and how to provide it. And many trainee therapist have had bad therapy! Bad therapy is a continuum, a lot of what makes it not good might seem trivial, but clients are often in an extremely vulnerable state of mind. For instance one client may love sharing the room with the therapist's dog. But not every client will want that to continue - a person who is in therapy already feeling as if their words and emotions don't count won't, can't speak up. Sensitivity to how others might feel, and being aware of the emotional tone of the other person's response and asking questions in such a way to honour feelings isn't easy. But it is our responsibility - as is challenging, but how to challenge and timing depends on the quality of trust between clients and therapist.  When I was training one colleague had a ...

Not an easy thing to do. And I found myself walking past his house three times, stopping, staring up at the sky, asking myself - is this right? It was hard to do. Tears in my eyes, and the bitter, cold wind. But in the end, just returning to my car would be keeping everything the same - I'd have thought less of myself, to respect myself I have to take action - there seemed no other way. It is the 3rd of January, and I have just returned from walking the dark passageway up to his front door and posting my final broken sound recorder through the letter box, silently - I didn't let it fall.  I really didn't want him to hear me... The envelope was sealed - and I wrote on the back of it: I give you back your words because I do not wish to remember. Inside the envelope, the voice recorder containing three sound files, transcripts - the blog posts - and a hastily written DOC file: 3rd January 2025. After you called me a minx - see end of this document. I decided it was important f...