About Me

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I'm 23 now; In the BDSM lifestyle for four- almost five years now. I am a 24/7 slave with a wonderful Daddy/fiancee: who is artcomet.blogspot.com. But as you will see in this blog are the emotions that I go through each and every day- in and out of the lifestyle. This is to show how much I've grown and bonded with my Daddy, how I've dealt with 'the world", and how I dealt with people in the BDSM lifestyle; Enjoy.

November 7, 2011

Working on my memoir...Interworks of Ashpea,Part one

I have so many memories going through me. And what is scary, is that they are good ones. But, the emotions behind it, are sad, thoughtful kind. wonder where it came from? Ill tell you.

I was an idiot. From time to time, i check up on my family. See if they are truly happy without me, truly hate me, for who i am. Sure, it may be pathetic, but i guess its how i cope with things.
And, i see that my mother is truly happy without me. I see her chatting with someone i don't know, and she is her happy self, once in a blue moon, with me. I also see, that she has replaced me with my god sister and that makes me ponder on some things.
It makes me think, did they love me, just a small fraction of my time with them? Did they really love me, that when i left, they had to replace that void with another person they know? or, am i thinking way too much into it. And that i know how they are. Just dumb asses who never loved me, and that it is true, on what they said. I was just a burden and was grateful my Daddy/fiancee took me instead.

When pondering on those thoughts, my mind whirls around to these memories, i have. I'm glad, that i have good memories. Yes, i know in my heart, i only have a few good memories. And, I'm glad to have them, but what is shaking me so much, is that i feel so sad with these memories. Maybe the reason i feel like this, is i wish and yearn for a family. A real family, that loved me, and actually cared for me. And in these memories, i saw a glimpse of it.And, that is where i yearn for it.

I miss those times, sitting with mom, watching movies with her, and actually not fighting or getting hit. I miss those times, where we would play games and actually be a family. I miss those times, where dad actually says i love you, and mean it. I miss those times, when my family would actually talk to me, like i was an adult, and not a baby. You, see, these are some of the things i want in a family.

When these thoughts come up, i get these feelings like, did i give up a good family? Even though i now its an absurd logic. Did i make a wrong choice in not talking or seeing them ever again? Are a few things i think of, when i see my family so happy without me. It makes me so confused again. It makes my confidence in who i am, shatter into million of pieces, and makes me wonder if who i thought i was, is truly me, or what my family said i was, is true.

I have always dealt with this. Always dealt with knowing who i am. And if being a slave and being this confident person, is truly me. Or what my family thought of me:being a hermit crab, crying my eyes out, cutting all the time, never knowing who i truly was, always quiet, and a puppet basically. And when they do this, act like their life is so perfect without me, this is what happens.

I start thinking and pondering, if i made the right choice. Or that what i thought of them, is just a mere delusional one. That a teenager was being a rebel to her parents, and thought that they are worse than what they are. But, i know in the back of my mind, i hear it screaming to me, "YOU KNOW THE TRUTH. YOU KNOW THEY ARE ABUSIVE, WHY ARE YOU TORMENTING YOURSELF LIKE THIS."And for some reason, i can never make my mind, realise that my subconscious is right.

Why can i listen to it, without my thoughts clouding it. Why cant my heart listen to it, when i feel it breaking so much. Is it because of that, i don't listen to it? or is it the mere fact, that when i feel like this, so many memories surface into my head, and make me replay them, like they are being done to me, in the present.

Like now, my memories are, in order: back when i was three years old, before going in for surgery, i remember my father sitting down on the floor with me,playing with the foamy blocks. I remember the feeling of being excited that my father was actually playing with me, but at the same time, i felt this other emotion, felt like something was going on in the background, but wasn't sure what was going on. I just reveled in that moment. Basking in the so called sunlight, that my father actually paid attention to me.

Maybe that is why it stays with me and makes me feel so sad, is that i yearn for that. I had always hoped my family would be a family. Actually love me, like they did at that time. I love to see that memory when I'm upset, but tonight, i don't. It just makes that yearning for a real family ache so bad inside of me. Like i want to scream, "WHY CANT I HAVE A FAMILY NOW?".

Other memory that sticks clearly, is all the times my mother would sit down, actually sit down and watch movies with me. This would happen a lot through my childhood and teen years. And i loved it. There was no yelling, there was no, disgust in my mother's eyes. I felt like i was bonding with her, and taking the time out, to be with me.
Sure, sometimes, my mother would be upset with me, and tell me to get out of her sight, while watching movies, but that only happened twice in my life. And the more i think about it, I'm glad that she didn't do it anymore than those times.

I like these memories, because i felt like i could be myself while around my mother. I felt like there was no barrier between us, or the tension we always had with one another. And afterwards, she would listen to my critic on the movie, and me with her. And sometimes with Historical fiction movies, if she didn't know what was going on, we would pause the movie, and i would explain it to her.
I felt like i was part of the family, and maybe why it makes me question so much in my life. Make me always think, is this my true family? Or, was i adopted. I know, silly for a person to think, even if she is grown. But i still do that, because my genes and my traits are nothing like my family. Makes me ponder, where did i get my thinking and logic from. Anyways, with that, is another subject, i will get to, in a few.

And the only other memories i have that are good, is that my whole family would take the time out of their lives and play games with us. Actually play games, and have fun.
Or mom painting my finger nails, and trying to make me a girly girl, and have a girls night out, by painting my face up(make-up), hair done, nails done, and take pictures of it, and say, you look like a model, instead of her usual tone and language.

This play a powerful role in my life. These few memories, are why I'm so confused with who i am, and what i think of my family. I know outsiders think my family, is their the perfect family in today's society.
But, in reality, once you get to know my family, really get to know them, by talking with them all the time, you start to see how bad they are.

Sure, you are wondering why i am badmouthing them so much, and clearly you will see through this novel or so, why i clearly don't like my family. Why i don't keep in touch with my family. And the decision i had to battle so hard with, each and every night. Do you think I'm a bitter person for this, well i hope you don't see me as that. Because I'm not bitter about it.
Sure, i yearn for a family, and upset that my family decided to take the family over me and try to change their ways. But, i know God will take care of me and them.

In fact, i actually am grateful for what i went through with them. It has made me a strong person and every other thing that is made up in me. Shocking, right, i know it is for me.

Enough rambling on that, i know I'm getting off the subject of what i was writing, but i felt like i needed to write it down. Another thing that is making me sad, is that i question God in my life.

Every time my family makes me ponder on my "true self" i always see that i question my faith as well. I always think, where did i get my faith from. Where did i ever find God? I always think it was my grandma, who always talked to me about God, but when i ponder on my memories, i see that i have always, in some way, follow God without really realizing it.

I think where did i get this faith from? When my family has always not been with God. so, i think, where did i start actually praying, and trying to get a personal relationship going with God. Surely, it wasn't from my family. So it makes me think, that everything i have hold on to, all my memories and etc, are just fake things that i have deluded myself with.

I go back to thinking, did i do the right thing. Did i make the right decision to leave my family and to have a better life without them? And to have a better relationship with God as well?
At the time, i really thought my grandma told me so much about Him, but now i see, that God had come to me.

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