Sick Of The Psychos II

At the moments I suffer from more blackouts and triggering situations than during the past two years. It feels so dull to be in that state again, because I thought I had really made progress. My therapist keeps telling me that’s the case. Because I have made progress, it all comes back. That sucks, friends. I have spent most of the days this week completely out of myself with all coping methods just failing. Great. I sleep only little as I’m afraid of nightmares, and I suffer from pain in my whole body, especially in the back, head- and stomache.

Why? I really try to get to the point, but I don’t know. Perhaps because one year ago we decided to dive deeper into it, when we discovered how much we’re drawn to sissyplay? I really like being Gina/Ginny, but in some way it bothers me. Or moves me. I was used to most things we did, even if they hurt. Now it’s all new and I discover so much about myself and my feelings. I question my sanity, when I think how much I would like my cock to shrink to a clit, just to prevent me from fucking (not that I had fucked anyone in years, even before I met John…I gave it a few attempts 20 years ago, but soon found out I’m not the giving part). I question my identity when I look at my nails, even more when I have my gurl’s clothes on. Who am I? Who do I want to be? I know I’m not transsexual and am grateful for all the opportunities I was able to talk it over with a trans friend. I like being a man, I just don’t need that male physique and would like to have tits and s small clitty cock. It serves my need to be dependent on Alphas and to indulge in my servility.

I guess I have never seen myself as a real man, you know, like a hard-working, self-reliant manly man. I was brought up to serve and to think of myself as a whore who needs what is being done to her. That was not ok, but I have adapted to that. I even crave it. I know I’m insane and a psycho, but having been abused since very young age, I have managed to survive by telling me I like and need it. And that I was made for this. Who would I be without the abuse? I would not be Blaubeermann or Ginny at all, right? I can’t imagine this man I might be. He’s a total stranger to me. I’d like to meet him, but he is not me.

So again, who am I? W suggested I might carry this question on  to Lord Shiva and I did. He showed me a mirror and when I looked into it, I saw myself, but I fell into the mirror and there was so much more. I was afraid, because I guess some things better stay undisturbed. He told me I could return whenever. For the moment, I just took the picture of a happier Blaubeermann with me. It’s good to remember I was not born to suffer forever and that I’m allowed to enjoy myself. I fail treating myself, but John is a real help. I admire his ability to be this strong, strict, yet sweet and tender Dom. He keeps me on track.

This evening, we’re invited over to my brother’s for dinner and a board game. Apparently it’s a good idea to be in their company as they all make me feel more like a human being and less like a freak. I know I’ll enjoy myself, holding John’s hand and feeling normal for just a few moments. Perhaps that enough for today. Tomorrow I can try again, right?


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