I tried.
I tried to let her have some space…. and even with the 60 seconds of allowance… I can feel how much pent up emotion is there. Deviant does not hate me. In fact, she only wants to protect me. From a lot. But with that protection is great wells of anger and rage… and crushing pain. My friend gave me some ideas about how to let some of that out. How to be curious about the senations happening in my body.. how to release that energy safely. I wanted to try. But first I started how I always do.
I asked her to share a little if she wanted to… and this is what I got back.
***
Do you really want to know? What it is to carry this? I’ll give you a sample. I hate my own skin. I hate this body. The flesh burns and I want to tear it from my bones. I want to claw at the space between my legs and rip out my womb. I want to bleed out onto the floor. I want my organs to spill out and our frame to collapse into a disgusting stinking heap of flesh because that’s all I feel that I am. A hot and warm bloody mess for men to fuck.
It is my truth, it is our truth, that it is all men ever want from us isn’t it? To choke, and grab, and slap, and fuck every available hole on this body. To slide their wet lips over your face like they can’t wait to devour every ounce of whatever innocence was left there. To taste the sweetness of your soul… and like a succubus…. lap it up until you are devoid of anything human.
And it doesn’t matter to them., that you are left scarred and dried out or that you bleed or that you didn’t want it in the first place. None of that matters to the veracious appetite of men. Often, they are worse than animals.
And this is the truth you have forgotten, my dear. It’s a truth you know, but refuse to own because it would mean owning the pain, and oh, it is a deep guttural pain. It is agony. I will hold it for you but don’t expect me to find love in a man’s arms, or in his words, because I have already seen too much.
What I want is suffering — their suffering. I want to choke them, like they have choked me. I want to press my hand into their chest holding them down, while I tower over them impaling them, enforcing my needless desire against their will while I smile devilishly. I want to use my strong hands to muffle their cries while they beg with their eyes for me to stop. I want them to feel weak, like I did.
And I want their throats to just slightly close while I squeeze it… and watch the panic in their eyes that I might go too far… and I won’t stop until the soul drains from their bodies, the muscles going limp in collapse and in acceptance of my total domination. And I want to do it over and over again until they are nothing more than a soulless and burning husk – just, like, me. That’s what I want.
That is the truth you know, but seem to forget, my dear. I have to ask. Is this what you wanted? You want to know this pain? This rage? I have plenty to share but know that once you open this door – you cannot close it. I will make no apologies or provide any more warnings from here on out. You enter at your own peril. Be sure you are ready.
***
As I let her words pass through me. I felt an unbearable rage. I sat up in bed shaking, trembling with anger, pressing my nails into my palms. An anger I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling. In that moment, I wanted to choke someone. Anyone. I don’t… I don’t even know why .. I don’t remember things like she does… and it’s terrifying.
My friend said, that letting it out… is the core of the body work I need to do. If it means punching pillows, choking a stuffed animal, whatever, to safely expel the energy trapped inside.
She’s probably right. Writing … letting Deviant’s words out… It helped a little… but I feel the energy built up in me. I’m too afraid to release it. I can feel myself withdrawing inward atm.. and wanting to hide…. I’m scared. I felt her wanting to claw and scratch at my vulva – wanting to rip at it until I am bloody… if not that.. my arms.. she wants to peel my skin off like it was a costume that’s been dirtied….
I know it’ll pass… I’m proud of myself for enduring it.. even if it was just a little bit. I just wanted to try. Maybe it wasn’t safe but… I also don’t 100% feel safe doing this in front of anyone… And when I have the space and the energy to try, I think it’s important to capitalize. But me going inward like this means I have to be fully relaxed (comfortable and eyes closed)… and I can usually only do that when I’m home. The thought of trying that in the therapy room… Well I could try… Not sure how successful I’d be. Maybe it would help me be less scared. Because right now, I’m scared of myself… Terrified of her… and I feel bad for her…us.
I’ll try and take care of myself this weekend, hot bath sounds nice… but I know this may sit with me, like a cold heavy stone in the pit of my stomach.
I am anxious to continue interacting with Deviant. I hope… I hope I’ll have enough strength…