The Blurb

Both ski socks and flip flops are pretty everyday objects (if you are the kind of exciting person who, like me, likes to go to snowy mountains and tropical beaches, not if you are a boring recluse). Most of what I write about will, I suspect, seem slightly crazy to your average 'vanilla'. But, to me, kink is so integrated into my life that I sometimes don't notice that it is a bit odd.

Ski socks and flip flops are also both totally contradictory to each other. This, in part, reflects the fact that I go by the online psuedonym 'Walking Oxymoron'. But it also explains me very well. I do not look like someone who you might imagine to be a sexual deviant. When out and about, I don't act any differently from anyone else. In fact, I like to think that I appear fairly innocent and demure.

This blog is about the other side of me - my dark side. Specifically, the emotional side of it. Behind the whips and canes and other fun things is a variety of very normal 'vanilla' feelings. They just choose to display themselves in some unconventional places...

Saturday 7 April 2012

Kink and Depression

Disclaimer: I do not wish to make a generalised link between BDSM and mental health in this post. Far from it. In my experience, those who engage in BDSM are far healthier than most. I am merely recounting my own experiences.

For the past five or so years (and arguably much longer) I have been suffering with chronic depression. My condition has deteriorated markedly over the past few months, and I have consequently spent four weeks in a psychiatric hospital going through some pretty intense therapy. This therapy has led me to put every aspect of my life story under scrutiny, and, from this, I have identified some major changes that I need to make if I wish to be happy. The first, and by far the easiest, is to withdraw totally from the fetish scene.

There are several reasons for this. Firstly, and most importantly, is that I need to learn to love myself. One of the damaging behavioral patterns that I have identified is that I define my identity by the success of my relationships with others. More specifically, I do not value myself as a person unless I am having a positive influence on another. I quite literally give up my sense of self for those I love. One of the many ways in which I validate this is through sexual submission. I need to recognise that it is not okay for me to put myself through what, in the past, has been significant emotional and physical hurt to make another person slightly happier with their lot. Until I have learnt this lesson, I think that it is wise for me to avoid situations that mimic this pattern.

In return for this giving of myself, I expect others to do similar for me. When I hear the words ‘I love you’, or even ‘I like you’, I hear ‘I will do anything within my power to protect you from the evils of the world.’ In truth, this is what I desperately want. For various reasons, my inner child has not been given the chance to develop and is essentially looking to be ‘re-parented’. However, as an adult, it is unrealistic to expect anyone to do this for me. Therein lies my second lesson: I need to stop putting my inner child into emotionally dangerous situations by allowing others too much access to her vulnerabilities and her desperate need for affection. I often struggle to see the difference between being dominated and being looked after, and I therefore need to unravel my adult’s feelings from my child’s feelings before I continue.

Finally, I have been forced to analyse which things in my life make me feel good and are therefore of high importance. Sexually, this means accepting that I am actually scared of sex. My inner child clings to the sense of being wanted that being fucked brings. However, I am usually left feeling empty and unloved – and I use the excuse of ‘subdrop’ to validate this feeling. I don’t want this any more.

I cannot make all of these changes overnight. It is going to take me a long time, and I have to be prepared to take baby steps. Re-reading this blogpost fills me with a horrible sense of dread. My need for sex as validation of my self worth, in particular, is something that I don’t fully understand and that is going to take a lot of re-wiring. But today, I am taking the first steps by a) writing this post and b) deleting my Twitter account.

Twitter is an engine for the social fetish scene. It is also a place on which a giant popularity contest is played out. It is where the ‘cool kids’ announce which party they are at and how outlandish it is. It is a place that people turn to for support when they are struggling and, for me, it is a place to which I turn for popular validation of my feelings and actions. I should not need this validation to quite the extent that I do. So it is time to kick the habit.

I have some plans for play in place in the coming months which I do not intend to change – baby steps, remember – and I expect that those involved with this will understand my desire to carry them through, but also that I need to put some emotional barriers in place before I do. I do not intend to stop playing with Lilith if I get the chance, since, in terms of both emotional connection and psychological awareness, she represents a very safe space. I may well reinstate my Twitter account and return to the scene within a few weeks. I may disappear for much longer. Those who are important will know where to find me, and will be there whether I am involved in the fetish scene or not.