A moment of hostile zen

I do not open up easily.  When I do and I say something is a need, it’s really important that you listen regardless of how petulant I may seem regarding it.  When I feel like my needs aren’t being acknowledged as important I tend to start closing off tender vulnerable parts of me.  When that happens I become cold and distant.  Great attributes for a Dominatrix, not good ones for friends.  I operate the way I do for very specific reasons.  They may not make sense, but I’ve come to them because in my life I’ve experienced a lot of rough times, more than the average person.  To say that I am guarded would be a horrendous understatement.  You are only privvy to the information I want you to be privvy to, the rest you could only speculate on.  Bottom Line:  I’m having a really rough day, and I need snuggles.

Persona is only skin deep?

In the thinking about potential cancer and what that would mean if I got a confirmed diagnosis.  Treatment would likely lead to me losing several physical traits I’ve come to be very acquainted with and known for as well.  

Breast cancer treatment if it would be what I need to deal with would cause me to lose my chest and my hair at a minimum as well as likely a lot of weight.  I really try to push the looks aren’t everything card, but let’s face it kids.

We are all shallow.

It made me think.  Really ponder.  How much of my persona is tied up in my looks?  How much of my confidence is because I own the quirks of my body?  Would I still be “me” if I wasn’t this buxom force with a flowing mane?


But is there a chance that my whole persona would be altered irreparably?


My contact cards are based on my chest tats.  If I had to have a radical double mastectomy would they be saved?  If I lost all my hair would I still be remembered for all my crazy pinup hairsyles and funky hair colours?  Would it change my passion for costuming?  Would it ruin it?

Would I still be attractive to those who love me?  To those who are attracted to me now?  Would it ruin my modeling?  

So many thoughts.

The fear….

Working in the medical field has its ups and downs.  Positives and negatives.  One positive is that I know a lot about a lot of things.  


It is also a negative.


So, for the past several months I’ve noticed lumpier spots in my breasts.  Yes, breasts are fibrous, and larger breasts tend to be lumpier.  But these are different than my usual lumpiness.

“Why am I concerned?” you may ask.

Well, Back in 2007/2008 I had a lump that was a cause of concern.   I had to have an ultrasound and had several punch biopsies done.  Result:  Abnormal tissue that did not immediately present as malignant.  Plan:  Monitor for any changes.


Except I’ve had run-ins with many types of cancers over my short life.  Cervical, uterine, ovarian, skin multiple times, breast once already.  Sure, I joke about being lungs of liver next with my drinking and smoking habits, but it’s meant to be light and airy, even though it really conceals a fear I have.

I have a limited Family medical history as I am adopted, but I have a maternal aunt who had breast cancer and ovarian cancer, and skin cancer runs in the family.

Back to the present day.

I have several breast lumps that are firm almost hard and will wake me up in the middle of the night with level 8-9/10 stabbing pain that brings me to tears more often than not.  Being in the medical field and with my personal medical history, I know what this points to.

I have appointments this Thursday to get the full once over with PCP and specialists I regularly see.  (I missed an appointment in October with the move and all).  But I’ve started stressing out.

FNG has promised to go with me, which is majorly helpful, and I’m very grateful for.  I still have the fear.



I keep failing.

I can’t support anyone in my life and I keep withdrawing from everyone.  I spend more time in tears than happy.  I try my best to hide it, but you cannot hide forever.

I am trying so hard to keep everything together that I’m fulfilling my fears.  People are distancing themselves from me and as much as I try to keep them around I know I’m pushing them away also.  Frustrations arise with me and my situation; people want nothing to do with it.

I’m breaking down.  I keep trying to pick myself up before I hit bottom, but I keep sliding down.  I know it hurts people who care about me to watch me self-destruct and they cannot do anything about it.  I just want to withdraw from everyone and everything completely so I can hit bottom without the worry of hurting those around me.

I keep going through the motions every day, but all I want to do is curl in a ball and completely give up.  

I want to have plans to do things to move forward but every time I think about it I get so overwhelmed with everything I freeze.  It is a vicious cycle.  I need to unpack my things at the new place, but I worry about having to pack everything back up again when I get kicked out due to my own inaction and issues.

My life is a roller coaster.  Ups and downs, hard turns, and a little bit of thrill and fear.  I just keep waiting for the car to run off the track and just fail catastrophically.  

I just want to disappear.  Forever.

Such an easy phrase…

Such an easy phrase...

So hard to think.


Another Reminder….

Another Reminder....


A reminder

A reminder



I am in pain.

I hurt at a level I have not hurt for a long time.

I am beginning to scare the people who care about me most.

My dog is worried about me.

I am in a dark place.  Darker than I’ve been in a long, LONG time.

I will honor promises I have made to this point, but am hesitant to make plans as I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to follow-through.  

I am a flight risk.  

An odd thing for me this week…

It’s strange when I become part of a support system for others through my infamy…. I hesitate to say famous b/c I still think of fame in grandiose terms, but I do garner a certain level of recognition around this and other communities.

This past week I have been contacted by roughly 18 women who asked for help, guidance, and styling tips after seeing my porn, model sets, and my goof off photos that have been posted to my various profiles here and on other community websites.

A lot of them state that they “struggle” with their confidence because of size, or stigma, or any number of personal hangups. In each and every case, they were allowing themselves to be defined by what others had said about them. If it was negative then they felt bad, if it was positive then it was good.

But if nothing was said then they had no idea how to feel.

That is the key to my confidence. I am the only person who defines how I feel. I take comments into consideration. For example if some random jackoff tells me I’m a fat pig, I put no stock into it. If the same random jackoff says that I’m the most beautiful thing ever, I wonder what he wants, b/c often if I reject the positive advance the negative follows shortly thereafter. Now, if someone I trust and care about says “That outfit looks awful on you,” I’m far more apt to listen and take that into consideration. However, if I still feel like a million bucks in the awful outfit, I’m still gonna rock the hell out of it.

But you have such a pretty face…

Gawd, do I hate that line. I get it mostly from my family. They want to say something nice without being overly down about my weight while still being condescending about it. It sucks. Every time I heard this growing up, I felt like slitting my wrists. (And no, that’s not hyperbole.) A few years back, I actually had it out with my mother. (My father had been long dead.) I told her that she had no right to say such disparaging things to me; that being “family” did not give her carte blanche to treat me like shit. I also told her that if she was any other jack-off in my life, she’d have been left behind long ago.

We didn’t speak for several months, almost a year. Not uncommon.

Now we are at a tenuous place in communication. She continues to be disparaging then apologizes when I ignore her. the periods of contact are longer than the periods of no contact.

I just find it amusing that I can be inspirational for so many, but that I am such a blight for her and my family. It’s hardly surprising, but that’s mostly b/c I’ve become immune to it. Now dealing with the family involves copious amounts of alcohol and frequent smoke breaks.

Really, this post should serve to remind people that the only person who can make you feel bad IS YOU.

Only you can define who you are and how you feel.

Don’t let anyone else tell you differently.


Happy Bunny Egg day!!


A little irreverence for the non- xtians!

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