Third Time's the Charm?

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of gender, sex, genitalia, presentation, and other things in regard to being a human.

How do you come out when you've come out already? To be honest, I've done it twice, and I like things in threes.

I'm non-binary, enby baybee! (NB, like non-binary, enby, get it? Whatever, I think it's fucking cute.)

Maybe you guys can relate, but I've always been the type of person to accept all the things, all the people of most of the walks of life... except when it applied to me. I hate most demographics I am, and it's not my fault either. Society has made us feel that we're not enough, no matter what, and the "enough" is an unobtainable standard that everyone talks about, but nobody really realizes how unrealistic it is.

With every modified body, with every picture-perfect view of sexuality and identity and gender and expression, it's so hard to view yourself in an accurate way. There's not a single person who is your twin that you will be able to see portrayed in a big way. You'll get similar things, you'll get representation, and we're working to make sure that we only continue to get more. But comparing yourself to a simple representation can be harmful, also.

You are who you are, and that's perfectly lovely, as long as you're not harming anyone or yourself. There are so many wonderful ways to exist now, there's so many ways to present as a person! And I know that at least the people I choose to surround myself with have been so accepting of everything, even if they don't exactly know what's going on. They're just trying to learn and love as they go.

I know not everyone has the privilege of being surrounded by such acceptance. But the first step is accepting yourself. There's not a person who doesn't deserve to look in the mirror and be able to smile at who they are and who they're becoming. You deserve to take positive influence in the representations you see around you, and use it to mold yourself into the best and most original version of yourself.

Personally, it took me a very long time to become comfy. I'm 25, and I feel like every time I take a step forward, it's four steps back as far as discovering who I am. I try to convince myself of certain things because it makes me feel better and more comfortable. But it's not true comfort if you're conforming because you feel like you have to. Sometimes people can't squeeze themselves into a box, and it's unfair to make them try. But after hearing the people around me, listening and learning, becoming more in tune with my body and what I prefer, and hearing other people ask assertively to be respected in their way, I realized that I was allowed to be respected in my way, too.

I am non-binary. I'm a pansexual binary human being. My preferred pronouns are they/them/theirs. I love my body and what I was born with, I like being effeminate, and honestly that's probably never going to change. But it's "non-binary" for a reason, yeah? I don't fit into SHIT, brother. And that's fine. I like myself most of the time, and I'm working on liking myself a little bit more every single day.

Touch-a Touch-a Touch-a (Don't) Touch Me

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of physical touch and aspects of intimacy.

This is hard for me to write, honestly. Not particularly sure what I'm going through in life right now, but my normal interactions with physical touch have not been what they normally are. Usually, I'm the kitten to crawl on your lap, the one who prefers to experience relationships physically. Recently that hasn't been the case, and I'm taking this week (like I haven't owed you guys a post for more than JUST a week...) to write about interpretation of this, if that makes sense.

My poll for this post was, "When you're feeling low, do you like being touched?" and here's the response I got:

• 4 people said YES
• 3 people said NO
• 18 people said IT DEPENDS

(Full disclosure, I had a friend suggest the "it depends" option to me, I hadn't even thought of it and I'm glad he mentioned it because a) it was MY answer, b) it's kind of the focus of the post at this point.)

Before continuing, I do just want to reiterate the importance of consent. If someone says they don't want to be touched, do not touch them. There is no debate, k? K. 

Everyone is entitled to their own form of physicality. Whether that means being fully enveloped by another human physically, or whether that means being as far away from people as possible. And that's totally fine. I just think it's strange because of how we are *supposed to be* as humans.

There's a chart that many are familiar with, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Basically, it's a pyramid-shaped chart explaining the basic things humans need to survive. The bottom of the pyramid holds the more important things that have to do with survival as opposed to anything else, and you're supposed to obtain them first, before reaching the ones at the top.

The bottom consists of things like food, water, warmth, and rest. Then security and safety. Then begins the psychological needs, starting with intimate relationships and friends, moving on to self-esteem and the need to feel accomplished. And finally the pyramid ends with self-actualization and being who you'd finally like to be. Obviously you can only reach this goal if you have a pulse, so the needs at the bottom are very important.

So, *smack in the middle* of this chart is where the intimacy comes. It's a literal basic human need. I just think it's interesting that something *smack in the middle* of the chart is something that so many humans are iffy on when the other needs fall out of wack. But I guess I can understand a little bit. I feel like when the bottom is okay, and the top isn't, one may get upset at the middle for simply existing the way it is. Then someone may try to manipulate that in one way or another, subconsciously or otherwise. I can totally see an internal conversation being, "I'm upset I don't have the top of the triangle so I need more of the middle for comfort," or even something like, "I'm upset I don't have the top of the triangle so why bother even needing the middle if I can't move past it?"

As scatterbrained as my thoughts are - and thank you guys for sticking through them - I think that no matter what, follow your gut feeling. If you're itching for some cuddles? Get some from a consenting cuddle partner! If you're looking to get railed out because it's therapy to you? Enjoy! If you want everyone to stay as far away from you as possible? Get that space, yo. There's a happy medium of spending to much and too little time with/by yourself. That's why it's in the middle, right? You'll figure it out.

Bad News Bears

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of a mental state that might make some people uncomfortable.

FIRST of all, hello! I haven't written in a little while and I'm happy you guys have stuck around. I'll try to be more constant in my writing, but sometimes life gets in the way. So again, thank you guys for chillin' in the wings!

Second of all, this post - although still standing true by itself - is a little bit of an explanation of some of the mental/physical barriers that have held me back from my creative self.

In my life, if I've spoken with you about some of the people I sleep with, you've probably heard me say that someone may be a  "bad news bears boy" or something similar. I know that it's silly, but it actually comes from a deeper place, I think. This post is going to be more mental health than anything, even though it stems from a sexual place.

There was a boy I was sleeping with. I'll leave his name out, obviously, even though some of you may know the name of who I'm talking about. For a long time, we were pseudo-falling in and out of love with one another. He and I made some awful decisions, and I regret every second of it. But here's the thing: from time to time, we still sleep with one another. Why do we do that? Why the hell are we doing this to ourselves?

Let me explain. Get ready for this.

So, long story short, we ended up having a conversation about where we were in life, what we were both looking for, the dishonesty on his part, the emotional ROLLERCOASTER on mine... You name it, we've talked about it. And we decided that we were too horny and our sex was too good to give up. After that, we've had more issues about his dishonesty, but my emotions actually backed off a little and I was (and am) able to have sex with him without any attachment. Which is what I'd prefer for situations like this. If I'm going to sleep with people freely, I don't want any strings. It's bad for my brain, and it's not fair to anyone.

Then, his dishonesty stopped. He started telling me things. Not everything, but to be honest I couldn't give less of a fuck. Not for me to know, not for me to care about. No worries. And it's actually fine.

Not "fine" in the sense of "it's not at all fine but I'm saying it to end the conversations surrounding it". "Fine" as in "this is actually cool, no worries, no big deal, over, done". It's actually fine. Or rather, it was for a while. But even now, with everything going on, it's still better than it was.

Sometimes I still think about how shitty our relationship was. And is. And sometimes after having sex with him, I feel disgusting. Like I'm the worst person in the entire world for even considering still sleeping with someone like him. I think about it during sex with him, too. And even though he always respects my wishes to stop, it makes me feel even worse that my almost-PTSD with him is ruining what could potentially be a great time.

Sexually, I don't think I've ever been with someone more compatible. I've had amazing sex. I've had sex that I think about and even after how long still makes my mouth water. I've had sex with people of all walks of life. I've been hurt by people, treated well by people, all of that. But something about sex with him really keeps me coming back. (Cue Chingy feat. Tyrese "Pullin' Me Back" please. If you don't know the song, listen. Doesn't really apply, but it's a lit throwback. You're welcome.)

And he's let me explore my kink side, for sure. We've explored things as mellow as just regular domination, to as severe as knife play. The physical trust I have is unmatched, truly. He's one of the only people I've ever felt comfortable switching for and showing my domme side. And because of how physically in sync we are, it's even harder to let go.

Here's how I see it. If we're being honest, and I've tried to be nothing but, I'm way too much of a sexually-driven creature to give up on sex like that. And every time I go to make that choice - whether or not to sleep with him - I run questions by him. I need to make sure he's not cheating on anyone by sleeping with me, that's the biggest one. And if/when he answers them all and he's not being an asshole, then it's perfectly fine. We hang, we smoke, we fuck, we sleep (sometimes), and then we go about our lives. But it's our past interactions that still hover behind each orgasm. And it's something I'm actually choosing to dismiss most of the time.

At the end of the day, what he did was shitty. Who I was, was shitty. But we've both come miles above that. We've been vocal and talked, we've discussed maybe trying to date again, and we've adamantly and unanimously decided that it was a bad fucking idea. That's why I think I can do it. There's no goal other than to have a good night with one another every now and again. And watching him grow as a human as we continue to sleep together is so refreshing. I'm not taking credit for the growth, that's all him. I can only take credit for mine. But I'm happy that the sad feelings are now in the past. It's only the past that makes me uncomfortable. And I hope that the future stays positive.

Whether we continue to do what we're doing, or whether we dead one another, or whether we fall off, every choice that was made has created the people we are today. I quite like myself right now, for the most part. I'm grateful for my experiences. I wouldn't be me without them.

People like him are one of the reasons I haven't been myself. Rather, why I'm trying to find myself. I'll sacrifice a blog post if it means I can focus on myself for a little while. Hopefully my bad news bears boy won't impede my growth anymore. I'm working on myself. I'll get there.

Mini-Me

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of specific kinks and head-spaces that may make some people feel uncomfortable, mentions of pedophilia. But please don't worry, this is not about pedophilia. At all. That's kind of my point in writing this to begin with.

So, this is a topic that I've been kind of letting simmer in my brain for a while. I've been exploring my placement within this kink, and it's been a wild ride doing so. (Not that the label matters, I understand that. However, sometimes labels can be helpful, and for me they happen to be VERY helpful.)

The concept of Bigs and Littles at its core isn't very strange. In the simplest of terms, it falls under the umbrella of a Dominant and Submissive relationship. However, with the title of the Dom(me) in this relationship also comes with the title of Caregiver. The Caregiver, the Dom(me), is the Big. The Little is the Sub.

Now, before going into what this entails, I'd just like to point out that this is not only coming from my own personal knowledge and experience, but also from things I've discussed with people and looked into further. It's a strange area, and there's no way to do (consensual) kink wrong, so don't take this as the only rules you have to follow if this kink sounds in any way familiar to you.

The caretaker side generally has the title of Daddy/Mommy or any variant like that. This terminology is what turns people off most of the time - hearing terms like this that people use on a regular basis being used in a pseudo-sexual nature. Again, this kink is not inherently sexual, but it is connected to a physical attraction and almost reliance on one another, so it's hard for a lot of people to separate the two. In a positive Big/Little dynamic, the Big will usually evolve their care-taking skills so as to make the Little feel as comforted and safe as possible.

On the Little side, it's what I feel to be a much larger spectrum. Sometimes there will be age regression, but this is not what being a Little is dependent upon. Personally, me falling into the kink has to do with my own vulnerability. I allow myself to become comfortable enough with someone to let them be, in a sense, in charge of me.

I personally don't use titles like Daddy/Mommy, but even that took a while to figure out. I prefer things like Mister for my more masculine partners, and I actually do not have experience with a more feminine Caregiver so I never thought what I would ever call one if I had one. But the titles and labels are ALL up to you. The dynamic exists regardless. I feel that most of my interactions with my Bigs happen in silence. What I mean by that is that if there's any instance of me being put into my place, it's with a look or an action, not with words. The words that are necessary are said in the beginning, when discussing what the dynamic actually is. This for me is just because to have the title of Caregiver for me, it's a deep connection that requires a lot of time to develop. So me being able to be silenced with a look, or comforted with a smile, was a long time coming if it's happening at all.

The title of Mommy or Daddy or something similar that might induce a feeling of disgust in the vanilla community, or the BDSM community not in the know, is honestly just used because we can not find any other label that conveys what the relationship is. The feeling similar to the safety and love we feel other than that of the original 'caregivers' - our parents.

I had a conversation with someone about this as I was writing this and they came up with a question I felt the need to answer: "What does having "daddy issues" mean, if this kink is so legitimate?" And here's my answer: it has NOTHING to do with this kink. Your "daddy issues" may mean one thing, or they may mean another. It doesn't mean you're depraved or deprived, it just means that you may have an issue on the "daddy" side of things. That does not mean that this kink is for you. It's a common misconception, and it's honestly inconsiderate in my opinion. I have daddy issues because I don't have one, because he's dead. So like, does that mean I have daddy issues like what you're thinking? No, so shut up. The term is annoying. Just a side thought. Anyways...

In my experience, this dynamic works the best when my Big provides rules. The bratty side of me is what decides to follow or break those rules, but it’s all part of the game. Some people have rules as severe as those put in place in a standard D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationship, and some are very lenient, while some partners have no rules at all and just exist in the dynamic as two normal humans would.

My favorite part about this dynamic? You can fuck with it. I used to say “Daddy”, now it’s “Mister”, as I said before. And my partner at the time was with it. I’ve had some Bigs who disciplined me harshly, and adjusted when requested. I’ve had Bigs not discipline me at ALL, and they also adjusted when requested. And sometimes my Bigs don’t understand my needs, or I don’t understand theirs. At the end of the day, regardless of any age regression, you are all CONSENTING ADULTS who can break out of the game to have an ADULT conversation with your partner.

One of the other big misconception about this kink is one of the major ones that tag along with BDSM in general - No, not all participants are going to be in kink brain all the time. Just as some members of the general BDSM community don’t walk out in public in leather and leashes, and some do, the Big/Little community has the same. Some people will leave their homes with stuffed animals, or pacifiers, or something to discipline their Little with. But some don’t. It is a lifestyle, but it’s the relationship that has priority to take place all the time, not the more intimate acts.

When I’m in public, I choose not to wear my leash or collar (because again, that is part of MY relationship to my big - giving in to the kitten/pet side of my Little-ness). But in my car, as some of you know, I always have a stuffed animal. Falling into what's called "Little Space" is very easy for someone like me to do.

Little Space just means when an adult regresses to a "childlike" state. To me, that means vulnerability, innocence, naivety... Nothing to do with actually feeling like a child. It's not physical. It is completely mental. And most of the time, because the Little is an adult, they can cope with it very easily. This headspace is not to be confused with what we call Sub-Space. While a Little tends to be the Submissive side of things, Sub-Space is a similar mindset, but it's usually triggered by something else. That's for another post, though. (In another 5 years when I actually remember that I set deadlines for my own posts. El Oh El, ya know.)

Being a Little makes the most sense to me. I'm the aggressive, dominant, asking if everything is okay kind of person usually. As I've said in more than one post, I think, the hottest thing to me is when someone can overpower me. And when someone thinks that I'm worth pretty much taking care of me and allowing me to fall into Little Space with them? Yeah, that's the shit I like.

This kink has taught me not to judge, either. Do I stan pedophiles? Fuck no, get the fuck out of my face. I refuse. I absolutely refuse. But this is not pedophilia. At all. And we are not making pretend we are children physically. Acting as a child would, putting oneself into the mindset where a child's would be... That's what we're doing. And to be honest, I've never met a Little, let alone a Sub, that couldn't snap out of it by themselves. Because, as I say for the millionth time, we are all consenting adults. And that is the most important thing.

I hope I opened some eyes and changed some minds with this! As I've said a thousand times, as long as there's consent, there's no way to do things wrong. I hope to hear some questions from the group, see you next time!

I'm Sorry. And I Try To Mean It.

TRIGGER WARNING: I'm not editing any of this. I'm not going through and writing it again. I'm talking about so many ridiculous and sad things, and I'm not listing them because I don't give a fuck about keeping it professional right now. It is, at the end of the day, MY blog. And I just need to empty my chest a little bit.

I'm not happy. I don't know why I'm not happy. I just cannot maintain a level of consistently being okay for long enough to consider me being "happy". I don't know what "happy" means or where "happy" is. I've been there, but I guess I fell asleep on the car ride there and back, and I don't know how to get there again. But the visits don't last long. They are actually physically tiring, and that's why the nap on the way back seems so inviting.

I don't know how to fix anything. I don't know why my anxiety does what it does, or when/if it's going to stop. I try, I do. And it honestly really pisses me off when people think I'm not trying. I try so hard, and honestly sometimes just getting out of bed is the most effort I can exert for the day. Which is why I don't go above and beyond on those days. I just get out of bed and do my best, which is apparently never enough.

I can't fucking write when I'm not okay. This blog is really hard. I have - no joke, I'll screenshot if you'd like - 14 posts that are halfway finished. I love the topics I've chosen and the audience that chooses to read it, it has nothing to do with anything like that. I just can not get my hands to type the things because my brain is telling me that I shouldn't care about it. My brain tells me that it doesn't matter, and my body is weaker than my brain so it just says, "Okay," and does nothing because it's convinced that it doesn't matter.

I'm so sorry to everyone. I've bailed on so many plans, I've started and not finished so many projects. I've not answered texts, I've left events halfway through, I've gotten so drunk or high that I was a ghost of myself in social situations. And I'm so fucking sorry.

But here's the thing: I can't even mean that I'm sorry 100%. The same brain that tells me nothing matters, is the brain that makes my (usually) sincere and heartfelt apologies not as sincere and heartfelt. And honestly, it's hard to try. It is fucking hard to try to be sorry. And to try to do better next time. And to follow through on doing better next time, so that I don't have to apologize again.

But do I need to be sorry? I'm not using depression as an excuse. I'm not using anxiety as a scapegoat. But if it's genuinely not my fault, is an apology necessary? Yes, because you need to be accountable for your actions, right? But what if you are literally not able to be accountable for your actions? Do you still apologize for whatever was done that ended up affecting others? Also, how much of what affected others is something that should be apologized for, anyway? Am I wrong for causing an effect, or is someone wrong for taking something personally? I can't knock someone for being hurt by something that I did, but there's a gray area and it brings me to an even deeper place.

I'm trying. I'm trying to mean everything I say. I'm trying to be whatever the fuck "happy" is. And I do mean when I say I'm sorry, to the best of my ability. And I mean it more when I say that I'm trying. So fucking hard. I'm trying.

I Spy With My Little Eye

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of disorders of a mental, emotional, and physical nature, including anxiety and depression as well as personal image disorders.

I tried counting and researching the number of mental illnesses there are? Yeah, so I stopped counting. There are so many, and they're very real. Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean they're not there. And just because you see something different than someone else does, doesn't mean you're going to be able to fix the problem. It's THEIR problem.

I have a lot of friends in my life who have something called BDD - Body Dismorphic Disorder. The technical definition is "a mental illness involving obsessive focus on  a perceived flaw in appearance". Basically, you have an issue with the way your body looks. However, this can be something very minor, like someone thinking they look bloated when they don't, or it can go to the more extreme, and that's what I'd like to talk about.

I have a friend I was romantically involved with. This friend was one of the first people in my closer circle that ever asked me to use "they/their/them" pronouns, and they identified as agender with an underlying thought of "I may transition in the future but I'm figuring shit out". They're one of the reasons I decided that pansexual was a better label for me. They're not something that fits into the two-gender spectrum that bisexuality represented, so it just made sense. And while I do understand that people who identify a certain way - mainly male or female - should be recognized as such. It was the inbetween and the not-so-much-in-either-direction I was attempting to include in the label I identify with.

So, long story short... With the curse of depression, and the weight of anxiety, and the added burden of BDD, the relationship we had ended. The issue was knowing that in an ideal world, they would have been born in a body that wasn't biologically female. The breasts were the biggest issue (no pun intended), and it was something so prevalent in their head that it distracted them from anything else.

While I'm still sad the relationship ended, think about it like this, with statistics pulled from adaa.org, the webside for the Anxiety and Depression Association of America:

• Anxiety is something we all have as a natural reaction, but anxiety disorders affect over 18% of, or 40 million, adults over 18 in the United States
• Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which affects about 6.8 million adults
• Panic Disorder, which affects about 6 million adults
• Social Anxiety Disorder, which affects about 15 million adults
• (There are others, like Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, as well as specific phobias and things like Bipolar Disorder and eating disorders)
• Major Depressive Disorder affects over 16 million adults in the United States, and it can break down into more than one category as well
• Persistent Depressive Disorder, or Dysthymia
• Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder
• Seasonal Affective Disorder
• And then there are the co-occurring disorders that come with anxiety disorders, such as
• Eating disorders (Anorexia Nervosa, bulimia, etc.)
• Irritable Bowel Syndrome
• Sleeping disorders
• Attention Deficit/Hyperactive Disorder (ADHD)
• Chronic pain
• Headaches
• AND FINALLY, Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD)

Look at how many people have these issues. There are 450 million people worldwide who suffer from mental illness. They are not exempt from one just because they have another, and usually these illnesses tend to pile up onto one another. These are not uncommon things, and things like BDD are just as common as these things are, even on the severe side.

This is difficult to think about, but put yourself into someone else's shoes for just a moment. Imagine waking up and PHYSICALLY not being able to love your body for what it is. It's valid, and I see the pain it brings people. It crushes me. I'm just starting to love my body for what it is, especially because I do have the power to change what I don't like. Imagine what it's like to wake up and know that it's not an easy task to change what you know isn't right for your body.

I don't have a cure. I suffer from a lot of these illnesses myself, including BDD. I look in the mirror and have no idea what I'm looking at half the time. But I do have one thing to say: be fucking kind. You don't know what a person is going through. It feels like a cop-out to say, but it's true. Not all illnesses are visible, so don't assume someone is okay simply because they don't look like a leper and have limbs falling off in front of you.

Do not talk about anyone's body. Just don't do it. Compliment their clothes, hair, eyes, smile, personality, attributes, ANYTHING. But do not talk about someone's body, especially if you know they might not be okay with it. It's not our fault that we can't see who and what we really are in the mirror, and it is not anyone's fault that their outside doesn't reflect their inside. Ever hear someone say something negative and your natural response is, "No, you're beautiful!" or "You look fine!"? Yeah, no. It doesn't work like that.

We won't realize you're not lying to us until we believe it ourselves. We won't be comfortable until we can make positive changes to reflect ourselves. The best you can do is show us, and people transitioning, and anyone not comfortable with themselves - or really, anyone at ALL - that you love us for the inside. Let us deal with the outside, please. Help us do it safely, and show your love in any way you can. But as far as trying to help us view our physicality better? If you don't have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up.

Now I Know My ABC(LGBTQI+A)'s

TRIGGER WARNING: Some friends may feel that the genders and sex references I put do not apply, and may feel uncomfortable. Please understand I'm not trying to exclude anyone, so I'm going by definitions in the dictionary so as not to jumble any words or be misunderstood. But no matter what, love is love, and if you feel truly excluded, please let me know and I WILL edit the post!

I'm taking what a friend wrote in one of their video blogs and making a little post of my own about it! This week, we're talking about the letters of the alphabet! Well, not really, because I'd hope one would know them already.

Nah, we're talking about the letters that make up the acronym for the "not-so-straight" community. This is an educational post, there will be a test after. (Just kidding, I know I'm not funny, moving on.) But just in case you think you may not need this, out of the 22 people who voted, 10 people said they didn't know what all of this meant. So, here we go.

• L: lesbian
• G: gay/genderqueer
• B: bisexual/pansexual
• T: transgender

And there's a few more that people LOVE to forget about. (Disclaimer: there are multiple accepted acronyms for the community. This is just the one I feel is the easiest to understand, and it tends to be the most used acronym after the simple LGBT.)

• Q: queer/questioning
• I: intersex
• A: asexual/aromantic

Just for your references, the video makes the statement that A does NOT stand for "ally", so for those who believe their heterosexual self belongs in the "anything BUT heterosexual" community, please show yourself out. Belittling our cause after "supporting" it just so you can feel included isn't a pretty look. But if you prove yourself a decent human and actually act as an ally, then of course you're welcomed.

So, what I'd like to talk about is what they all mean. Some of them are self-explanatory, but let's just do it for everything so no one gets left out in the cold. (Again, let me reiterate that these are definitions taken from the dictionary, and are not meant to offend anyone as far as gender, sex, or identity!)

• Lesbian: a homosexual woman

• Gay: a homosexual, specifically a man

• Bisexual: sexually attracted to both men and women

• Pansexual: not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity

• Transgender: a person whose sense of personal identity and gender does not correspond with their birth sex

And now these are the ones where the dictionary got iffy. Some of these are just words, so I'm going to do my best to explain for some of those who may not be too sure how they apply to this community.

• Queer: "strange, or odd..." This, in the community, simply means someone who identifies as something other than heterosexual. It can be used as a blanket term for the whole community, but some of us just use it to cover whatever our sexuality may be within that community.

• Questioning: "indicating or implying a question..." In the queer community - actually, in any community, really - a lot of people have no idea what they are and how to label themselves, or even if they'd like to label themselves at all. Simply, they're questioning themselves and figuring themselves out and where they fit in to everything.

• Intersex: "someone whose anatomy or genetics at birth do not correspond to the typical expectations for either sex..." So, this one is an interesting concept. Ever heard the term "hermaphrodite"? An example of someone who is intersex. It's not an offensive term. Rather, it's not meant to be. And it's not always visible, either. Medically, it could be a completely internal thing. I read a great article about why some people feel this does not belong in the original acronym, and how doing so may imply that these intersex individuals are homosexual/bisexual etc., but in that same article, they state that they face similar struggles and erasure as the rest of the community, and an acronym shouldn't stop a cause from working together for acceptance. Good point, in my opinion.

• Asexual: "someone without sexual feelings or associations..." There's only been one source of media that has ever, to my knowledge, portrayed an asexual community properly - BoJack Horseman. It took until Season 4 to do it, but once they did, it was amazing. It doesn't mean you're incapable of finding a partner. It doesn't mean you don't WANT to find a partner. It means you're not interested in sex. Some people don't like vegetables, some people don't like spiders, and some people don't like sex, and that's perfectly fine.

• Aromantic:"someone who doesn't experience romantic attraction..." Which does not mean they don't experience love. This simply means that romantically, they're not with it. Platonic love is absolutely capable for someone aromantic. They just feel that there's no need for an intimate pairing, considering they can actually love. I feel that in my generation, this isn't so common, but the "eligible bachelor(ette)" thing could totally apply. Like, they may have siblings and friends and parents and family and whoever that they love. But anything more than that just isn't their thing.

I hope that I was able to educate you guys! Hopefully, if anyone ever asks about the queer "alphabet", you can give them a little bit of knowledge and prove that labels are sometimes there for a reason. No matter what you may think, you do fit in somewhere. I promise.

Monkey See, Monkey Be

TRIGGER WARNING

This post is going to serve as a reminder that your body is beautiful, and that the way you feel about your body is okay, and the (safe!) changes you'd like to make to your body are okay. This post will also serve as a reminder that your body, although just a body, is never something to be ashamed of. If you feel you do not belong in your body, let this serve as a reminder that you are valid in your feelings, too.

In my poll question, I asked, "What do you think gives people the worst body image?" The results were as follows:

• Media/outside influences: 14
• Other people (not intentionally): 8
• Other people (intentionally): 4
• Themselves: 1

It was interesting to see that people voted the most for the media and outside influences. I genuinely thought it would have been the last one. But I'd like to explore that, I think.

Do you think one influences the other? Do you think that upon seeing the media and outside influences, we then turn inward and start comparing? Even with the other choices, do you think that other people can unintentionally make us turn inward? Do you think that intentional harsh words and sideways from people can also bring us to turn inward? Or do you think that it's completely separate?

I'm not so sure. Some people genuinely are their own worst enemy, but where are those roots?

I think that no matter what, we are the ones that critique us the most. No matter what influences - outside, inside, people, things, ourselves, etc. - it will always be us who has the final emotion. Intentional or otherwise, sometimes we lose the battles over how we feel about ourselves. And it's strange to see what one will do to fix the problem, or try to.

I think that sometimes, seeing influences in media is good. Realizing one body might suit you better. Realizing that you aren't alone in the way you'd prefer your body to be. It's super helpful to see that you're part of a crowd, when your  mind is telling you that you only stand out.

However, sometimes it's hard to be part of a crowd when everything around you is screaming that for some reason or another, you're wrong. I may not be louder than that voice, but just a heads up, I'm pretty loud.

If you don't feel beautiful, you are.
If you don't feel right in your body, you're valid.
If you feel someone is more beautiful, they're not.
If you think you're less beautiful, you're not.

You are absolutely perfect in every way. And if you can safely fix anything that doesn't make you feel perfect, you're valid in wanting to fix that. Safely, anything is possible, and you are capable of that happiness.

Our bodies are the most temporary part of us. Why spend our lives with them trying to emulate someone or something else, just because someone or something else might want it that way? Do what you want to do, for you. I don't think imitation is the highest form of flattery. The only person you can be fully is yourself. You can make yourself the best YOU possible, and there are safe ways to do it! The most dangerous thing is thinking you have to be someone else to be happy.

Be your best YOU to be happy.

Just Keep Swimming

TRIGGER WARNING. And before I continue, please know that my ears are always open, and that if you feel you need to seek professional help, I IMPLORE you to do so. It's not easy, but you can get through things, and you are allowed to have bad days. Please don't feel that giving up is an option. Included at the end are a few resources for those of you who feel they're helpful, but again - you always have an ear, a shoulder, and a friend in me.

I'm going to make a point you probably have seen driven home all over your feeds and timelines. Here's a list of celebrity suicides you're most likely very much so aware of:

• Kurt Cobain
• Robin Williams
• Jonathan Brandis
• Alexander McQueen
• Chester Bennington
• Junior Seau
• Diane Arbus
• Avicii
• Marilyn Monroe (probable)
• Johnny Lewis
• Dana Plato
• Ernest Hemingway
• Vincent Van Gogh
• Sylvia Plath
• Kate Spade
• Anthony Bourdain

Now, as painful as this list is - and yes, this is only a very small portion of the list - can you remember anyone from your school that passed away? Those vague "thoughts and prayers" that nobody ever really hangs on to for too long? If the friend is in your closer circle or had a reason to interact with you, of course it weighs on your mind. But I graduated in a class of around a thousand, and I only found out half of the information about students passing at graduation. After over twelve years with pretty much the same exact people, I still had no idea who was around to graduate, for whatever reason.

I ask for simply this... Pay. Fucking. Attention.

It is nobody's job to fix anyone, and don't feel like you have to. But I think there's something to be said about the person who's just kind of *off* today for no reason, getting an extra smile from you. I think asking, "Hey, you doing okay today?", even though you may not get what you're aware is the truth, helps a lot. Even if the person you're asking cannot answer with "NO" like they'd like to sometimes, because admitting you're not okay is hard. Especially when there's no reason.

I'm not going to try and break down why Kate Spade, my all time favorite designer, decided that suicide was the right path for her. I will, however, shut my office down at my place of work when they fucking decided to talk about the finer details of her suicide. Like, nobody said they give fuck about whether she hung herself from a doorknob or not, just let people grieve and allow her spirit to float for A SECOND before chucking questions at it.

When I say "pay attention", I also don't mean to every random person in the corner you see. I don't mean try and throw your assistance at anyone. But when I was low (and still am), the things that mean the most are just random people seeing my (incredibly vocal) cries for help and just being like, "Hey, I see you!" Like, just being seen makes me feel valid. Just knowing someone is willing to help, even if they don't or don't know how. Showing someone you give a fuck is honestly the biggest gesture.

When I was in 10th grade, on Easter, I attempted suicide. There's been self-harm before that, and there's been self-harm after that. And I'm 23 and still trying to convince myself that if I died, there would be at least one person who didn't shrug it off. It's hard sometimes. And talking about it is harder, too. I've been struggling with loving myself and every aspect of myself, inside and out, so that my wrists don't burn every time my depression takes the wheel in my head. But it's hard. And I need to tell all of you this.

You are important. Period. There is nobody who would be better off without you. Period. Your feelings are valid. You belong here. I pinky promise it's going to get better. Yes, it's a bold promise, but I never break my pinky promises and I'm not about to break this one. Things get worse before they get better. If they're getting worse, please hang on.

Maybe it's selfish. I don't want to lose anyone else. I have a folder full of funeral cards and I don't want any more. But YOU need be selfish, too. To the people who would rather see you gone, be selfish and hope that their heart is full of nothing but YOU. If they're thinking about you that much to wish ill upon you in any way, think of them as your personal fan club. When they start saying, "You can't," loud enough, instead of screaming, "You're right," back at them, start doing your best to start screaming, "I fucking can, and I'm going to, if for nothing other than to shut you up."

Being here is so fucking hard. Being a person is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And I'm sure so many people feel that way. It's hard when you don't know why you feel this way, too. And maybe it's harder when you do know why but you can't do anything about it. When I dissociate - which happens quite frequently - I try to find my hands first, and I've found terminology that kind of helps with everything...

I know it feels like you're drowning. Please try and find your hands and try swimming. When you focus on your hands and swim, then I promise there's air above you. You just have to try to swim, but to swim your need to find your hands. Your hands can't help you if they're holding on to something to end you. Whatever it is, put it down. It's OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY. Let yourself not be okay. Breathe. And please keep swimming. Nothing takes three seconds. No medication in the world can cure this. But PLEASE keep swimming. Just keep swimming. You'll find air. I promise you. Just please keep swimming.


Below are some free resources for those who think they're helpful. I know it's hard to pick up a phone or write or text sometimes, but if you can, please do. And if you have any others (or know of any that are bogus), please let me know.

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE:
1-800-273-8255

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION CHAT:
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

LIST OF INTERNATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINES:
http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines

THE TREVOR PROJECT - SUICIDE PREVENTION FOR LGBTQIA+ TEEN/YA:
https://www.thetrevorproject.org/get-help-now
24/7 HOTLINE: 866-488-7386
M-F 3p-10p TEXT LINE: text "Trevor" to 202-304-1200

OTHER FOUND RESOURCES:
https://www.imalive.org
http://remedylive.com
https://www.chatzy.com/suicide
https://www.healthyplace.com/suicide/suicide-chat-hotline-options

Sun's Out, Buns Out!

TRIGGER WARNING.

I've lived in New York for my whole life. One thing I can say for sure is that the summers are scorching, the winters are frigid, and people are always complaining about both. And these same people are always out, no matter what. Whether 120 or -20, there's going to be traffic on the roads, because New York doesn't sleep for anyone.

What I've noticed with the summer months coming is that people are always ready to call out another person on what they're wearing. And how they're acting. And pretty much anything they're doing. More than they would normally. And I've noticed that certain phrases - "sun's out, buns out!", etc. - are created because society is so clingy and cares so much about our sex appeal, lack thereof, and how much skin people are showing, be it too much or too little.

In my poll, when I asked, "What season do you more associate "promiscuous behavior" with?", it was a clear winner of summer. Understandably, I guess. But let's look at some actual facts and try and look at the situation of a sex-obsessed summer differently.

(Keep in mind, some of these numbers may have changed in the last few years, but within 10 years, I think we can safely assume they didn't go too far in either direction.)

As per the Bureau of Justice Statistics in 2014, 55% of sexual assault happens at or near the victim's home. To me, that doesn't sound seasonally exclusive. However, according to an FBI analysis in 2012,  sexual assault as well as other crimes go up at an average of 6% during the three summer months, so you'd think that maybe promiscuity and amount of skin has something to do with it? Nope, because according to that survey, the amount of sexual assault and other crime goes up 18% than the normal average in the three winter months. There's no excuse for it at any time of the year, and the fact that people automatically think that summer fun has anything to do with our promiscuity is interesting to me.

So, maybe we view the summer as the grounds for more "promiscuous" behavior because it is one of the times of the year when we have more freedom to be ourselves and explore more safely? But maybe it's because sex is always taboo anyway, and when more skin is showing and society keeps victim-blaming, these reports are only jumping when the victim can safely assume nobody is telling them that their exposed skin was instigating someone... in -10 degree weather...

Tea.

The definition of promiscuous says: *derogatory* - "having or characterized by many transient sexual relationships". I don't understand how more promiscuous behavior can't happen all year round. I don't understand why the word "promiscuous" is marked in the dictionary as a derogatory term. I don't understand why the summer eliciting "easier access" clothing (because maybe it's fucking HOT outside) means that automatically someone is going to want to access it. Even though I personally go a little bit crazy in the summer, I have never attributed that to the way I dress. And anything sexual that I have not consented to, I also cannot attribute that to the way that I dress. I can be in the same environment with the same people and dress whatever way to accommodate whatever weather is happening. My libido and sexual experiences is only affected by the people.

And personally, I love winter. I feel I can be my true self. I don't need to worry about any extra sweat, except for what's warranted by that AWFUL promiscuity I thrive on. I don't need to worry about being too close, because the cold makes snuggles an incredible viable option to keep warm. But I mean, nighttime swims in the summer? Intimate as heck, and can get you real horny if you're swimming with the right one. In my humble opinion.

I implore you to do some new thinking as we go into summer: leave humans alone! I'm gonna have sex no matter what season, and we all know a wonderful self-proclaimed slut like me who never lets weather stop her from doing what she wants! But please keep in mind that in the months of the year where more skin is showing, that does NOT give you an excuse to do anything without that sweet sexy consent. And during the months of the year when LESS skin is showing, guess what? You still need consent! Wow!!!

Our generation is obsessed with summertime. Keep it that way. Be who you need to be. Enjoy the weather. And be safe, Pineapple Peeps!

Thinkin' Out Loud, As Always

TRIGGER WARNING.

This is gonna be a weird post. I keep trying to include all aspects of the blog into the posts I write, so some of them might not focus on sex at all. No worries. In my opinion, good mental health is the key to good sex. But whatever.

This is more of like a diary entry, though. I had a revelation not long ago, about the correlation between my love of the horror genre and my anxiety and depression issues. It's a weird and winding kind of thought process, so bear with me. I know I'm relating to at least one person, who I won't name, but I'm guessing that it's a thing and that makes me feel not so alone and strange.

So, I love horror. I think it's a wonderful genre. So easy to be bad, but when it's good it's SO good. I prefer thriller to anything else, partially because of a point I'll make later on. And it's creepier and more believably scary. And I've been scared of monsters and all that jazz for years. I don't remember what my first horror movie was that I saw, but I remember being scared of it for years.

Comparably, I don't remember when I started having things that I could file under "Anxiety" or "Depression". They weren't movies I could watch and replay, but looking back on them that's exactly what they were. Like watching a movie a hundred times.

When I'm the happiest, more things seem to scare me. And it's because I create almost tangible representations of my anxiety. It's much easier to feel fear than it is to understand my own brain sometimes. It's easier to say that there's a monster under the bed, than one in my head.

It's like, when I'm upset, nothing scares me. Like those memes you see: "*hears a creak when home alone* This is fine, I'm dead inside anyway" kind of deal. But when I'm in a better mind state, every little thing scares me. I figured it out, though.

It's like my anxiety creates a scapegoat for itself. It's easier to be afraid of something that I know will definitely not hurt me, rather than something that might. I don't know what my anxiety could drive me to do. But Samara climbing out of the woods, or like a creepy demon from something running down the street? Probably not, to be QUITE honest.

I know this is a weird concept to grasp. But imagine, if you will, it being a metaphor. Freddy stands for the bullshit, but as long as he's not in my dreams, it's kind of okay, right? I can figure it out on the outside. I can figure it out if he's in front of me. But in my head, I have no idea what's going on.

The human brain is so amazing. It does everything in such an insane way, I have no idea how. It finds the best ways to have to do the worst things. Anxiety and depression are some of the WORST things to have to deal with. But we can do this, dude. Like, we GOT this.

Jigglypuff gets JigglyRuff

TRIGGER WARNING.

Hey, guys. I know this started off with full steam, and I know that I'm always super gung-ho and open about my sex life. And about my life in general, really. But there are some things that I can never really explain to anyone. They're in my head, they're felt by me in one way or another, and I could be the best writer in the world and never be able to express how I felt to anyone.

The best thing that I'm trying to almost force myself to do is ignore the negativity. My biggest issue with myself is my depression. From that springs most other issues that I have. I'm not using it as a scapegoat for my problems. But a reason is different than an excuse, and this is most certainly a reason. A chemical reason that changes a quite a lot.

A great quote that was brought to my attention - actually as I was writing this - kind of makes sense in the way that I'm approaching my sex life right now. And my regular life, really. It's from Agatha Christie's "Murder on the Orient Express", and the quote is: "I have learned to save myself useless emotion." What a rad quote. Not save oneself from emotion, period. But save oneself from what does nothing for you.

I refuse to deny myself the right to feel emotion. When I numb myself, it's not healthy. I use sex as a weapon, and I use it viciously. For someone such as myself, it's a strange thing to use. Like Jigglypuff using a machete. I can be sexually aggressive - duh - but when I say that I weaponize my sex appeal, it's dangerous for my own mental health more than anything. And potentially my normal health, should I make choices that aren't good for me.

I know I've already posted about my issues as far as sex and my mental health. But, seeing as I've already made a promise (if only to myself) that if I were going to write a blog - especially one with these topics - I'd be as open as possible. This post is possibly redundant, but it's not an exception. And it is a very big part of my life.

I want to be able to have the sex I want, for the right reasons. I want my sexual partners to know that I'm not using them for sex, and I'm not using sex as an escape from anything. I want to let people know that the rough sex I want to have is not for any reason other than the enjoyment I receive from it. I want those I love and know care about me to be the ones to do what I like, because I know that it's nothing I ever have to worry about.

Jigglypuff might like getting JigglyRUFF, but that does not mean that I deserve that consistently. And that does not meant that I have to distract myself with things I like to be happy. It's like dangling a candy bar in front of a treadmill so that someone will run. It's not fair to me. Useless emotions are, for want of a better word, USELESS. And I will make sure to apply this to my life in all aspects, to promote positivity in everything that I do.

Shiny Things

TRIGGER WARNING.

The BDSM community is so vast. If you can think about it, you can probably do it. And there are some outlandish things that are done more often than one might think. One of these things is knife play.

Now, before you ask, yes. It’s exactly what it sounds like. Knife play is using knives (or other sharp and shiny things similar to a knife) to create sexual/sensual pleasure. Some people use it just for the thrill of having a knife around them, some people use it to create pain, and some people use it in certain scenes they take part in with their partner.

(For those who may not be familiar with certain terminology, I will be making another post about it!)

I've partaken in knife play before. It was so scary, and I loved it. I was with someone I trusted, and they did everything they needed to do prior to doing it. At the end, I felt safe and satisfied, and that’s exactly what I should have felt. If you ever take part in a scene and you don’t feel comfortable, you need to END that scene. Period.

So before I take another step upward on my consent soapbox, I’m going to use some safety tips one of my lovely Twitter friends put up! I learn from other people, and so should you. I decided that she was one of the best sources for something like this, so I’ll be putting up the information at the end of the post!

• KNIVES ARE NOT TOYS! Remember, the original purpose of a knife was to hurt, to kill, to damage.
• Always have a decent first aid kit available. Make sure this includes antibiotic ointment, cotton balls, fabric bandaids, and butterfly bandages.
• Make sure you manage your time in the scene, take your time, and never use a knife on someone that you’ve never used on your own skin.
• CLEAN YOUR KNIVES BEFORE AND AFTER YOU USE THEM!
• Don’t boil the knives to sterilize them. It sometimes warps the blade and may cause it to lose its temper.
• Make sure you’re both clean, and don’t be afraid of being too clean. Rubbing alcohol always does wonders.
• Use a super sharp knife or a dull edge of one. Anything in the middle is incredibly dangerous because you never know what’s going to happen.
• Pull the knife towards you when touching the edge to your partner, never push away.
• If you are scraping the skin, hold blade at 45 degree angle from the skin.
• Never cut above the shoulders, as there are too many sensitive and irreplaceable parts.
• Hold your blade the way an artist would hold and control a paint brush.
• When first exploring knife play, start with a blade no larger than the width of your hand.
• Make sure you account for any flinch or sudden sound that may startle your partner.
• Pay attention to your partner and make sure you know the way they flinch, how much movement per jerk or quiver, etc.
• REMEMBER THIS: Knife play is the ultimate edge play and is legally considered assault with a deadly weapon. Because it is.

You can technically do whatever you want, really. I’ve had situations with partners so rough we decided it would be best to put things in writing first. But there were so many things on that paper that there was no way anything could be misconstrued. At all. But that’s me. I can handle a lot more than other people can. And I’m very much so aware of my limits, and I’m very lucky to have had certain partners who were willing to work with me and push those limits to see what was the best for us.

Knives are, sometimes, a funner concept than a toy. It’s okay to leave some things just a mere fantasy, instead of going forward with actually putting those things into real life. Don’t ever be afraid to NOT do something. There’s a weird thing that I’ve been made aware of where if you don’t partake in something you’re into, you’re not authentically into it. That doesn’t make sense. I’m into having millions of dollars and Donald Trump not being the president, but doesn’t mean that either of those things are the case.

Let me know if there are some other safety/educational posts that you guys want me to write! I’m curious to hear what you guys are interested in! Have fun, Pineapple Peeps!

For those of you who are interested, the Twitter account I mentioned above is @blackBDSM - It's a pansexual kink account... There is something for absolutely everyone, even if it's not your particular cup of tea. If you don't like it, scroll past. But I've found that certain things, such as this thread, have been incredibly helpful. Go give her a look!

...And I'm An Addict

TRIGGER WARNING.

I was going to post something about knife play. I was going to post something educational. I was going to post something totally relevant to the sex-positivity part of this blog. But considering mostly my friends are the ones reading this, I changed my mind for now.

As you guys may know, I enjoy having sex. I love physical touch. I love being close enough to someone to smell them, taste them, feel them. But it's become a problem.

I think I'm addicted to sex.

When I don't orgasm at least once a day, I have panic attacks that I can only really attribute to that. If someone denies me sex, I'm obviously not going to push it because consent. But I shouldn't be so upset that I cry, thinking that someone doesn't want to touch me because of some ridiculous reason. It could be for a million different things; I might not be one of them.

I don't think liking sex is a problem. Obviously, I've made it clear in my pseudo-"missions statement" that having sex or not is OKAY. But why is it, then, when I'm not having sex, it's a problem for me?

I mastubate all the time. It's not like I'm incapable of having the orgasm I clearly so desperately need to get through my day. But it's never enough. I want someone to be doing it for me. And I know who I want the most - I want my boy the most, because he's mine to want - but it really doesn't matter at the time. I just want it.

I've decided to investigate seeking help for it. I like being the horny creature I am, but NOT when it affects my mental health. I'll do anything I want, but as soon at it affects that, I know I have to start thinking about it from a different perspective.

I love you guys, and I think it's important to share with who you love.

I'm an addict. I've been addicted to real drugs, people, feelings, and now sex. I have an addictive personality. If I enjoy something, I'll get hooked to the point of danger. No, I'm not in ANY way comparing my sex addiction with my previous heroin addiction. Because it is NOT the same, at all. But it hurts me the same way. It hurts ME. The same way.

Being educated about sex is important to me. And being open is just as important. I plan on writing a post about this in the future, when I know a little bit more about the issue. Until then, Pineapple Peeps, come on this journey of self-discovery. Maybe, together, we can find the root of the problems we all have, and be more open to helping ourselves fix them.

Case of the Glooms

TRIGGER WARNING.

So, as you all know, I am someone who suffers from anxiety and depression. Some days it’s much worse than others, but it’s something that’s a part of me. And as we probably also all know, I am someone who enjoys sex. These two things have a strange correlation for me.

When I’m sad, I want to have sex. I’m not sure why. It’s just something I want to do. I’m in tune enough with my body to know what endorphins will be released if I orgasm, and I usually want that. And when I’m anxious, I just want to be touched - in an intimate way, not a sexual way. And yes, those two things are different.

But recently, it’s been much different. I’m with a boy who treats me well, and I’m decently happy in my life. Not too much is going on. But the cases of the glooms that I get have been getting can’t be solved by sex. So what happens in that case?

I listen to my body. I’ve denied sex before. I’ve pulled away from an embrace before. I’ve gotten more horny and more clingy and affectionate as well. Whatever is good for my body is what I do for my body.

There are bad times to have sex. If you listen to yourself, you’ll hear what you need to hear. Sex will NOT solve everything, but sometimes you just need that release. Some tension can be fixed that way. Sometimes you just don't want it.

And as far as the boy goes… I’m open with him, and it’s a good situation for us to be in. But there’s big chunks of doubt and paranoia that comes along with it that. What if he does this, what if he finds someone else, what if I’m not his consistent anymore, what if blah blah blah. He reassures me that it is not the case - and I believe him! - but of course you're not going to believe someone unless you believe it yourself.

And in a way, I do believe him. He’s someone I’d like to have around me for a while. And I know he’s not going to say or do anything he doesn’t mean. And the way he fucks me, well damn. I’m confident enough to know he’s not ready to give that up. (Holla!!!)

But sometimes, the cases of the glooms (as I call them) get too loud in my head for me to hear anything above it. So what do you do?

In sex, in life, in everything else - try your best to calm yourself down. If you’re going through a lot, then do the best you can. I’m not saying “Just CALM DOWN!” because we all know that it doesn’t work. Saying “Just get better!” to a cancer patient does absolutely nothing. So why do it to someone who has another kind of issue?

My advice to you, myself, and whoever needs it: sex can solve some bad moods, but it will not solve your problems. Make sure you take care of yourself, before you have someone else take care of you, in any way that might be.

Thank you guys so much for tolerating me during this time of writers block and mental issues. I love all of you guys, and hopefully I can write on a more consistent basis from here on out. Love my Pineapple Peeps!