Miss Scarlet, in the Library, getting fucked with the revolver

Clue, don’t cha know.   I should get a clue by now.  That fantasy is way better than reality.  Always.

Recently here in Massachusetts, the Governor declared a State of Emergency.  Most people lost electricity and heat.  I was one of the fortunate to get restored fairly quickly after a few days.  My ex was on my mind, wondered how he was faring, I called him.   Some people do it and then later blame drunk-dialing, ass-dialing or some such tom foolery.   Not me.   All it takes is for me to listen to  Adele‘s “Someone like me” and my fingers can do the walking, stone cold fucking sober.

I’m not sure if you call it a “slip” or if its total relapse if you actually have full-blown sex with your ex.   I know one thing is for sure.  It feels like shit the day after, when there’s no phone call from him.   Or the day after that.  Or the day after that.  Or the day after that.  It was empty on his end.   It always was.

Like I said, fantasy is always better than reality.   I pretend he loves me and he……..I guess he just fucks me.

Fantasy is just that.  I have this fucked up vision, this man, a white-knight on a steed, that’s going to rescue me from the evil in the world, the monsters under the bed, maybe, maybe from the demons in myself.  Somehow I superimposed that image of the knight in shining armor on my ex.  I wanted it to happen so bad, that I was able to deny what was right under my own fucking nose.  In my case, a sex-addicted partner sleeping with prostitutes, doing gang-bangs,  a swinger fucking other men’s wives as they blew their husbands, casual encounters from Craigslist, and even blew a few men as a cuckold.

His penchant for sadism and misogyny would eventually take its toll on my body, mind, and spirit.  Whippings, Canings, Floggings, til my tits and ass were purple and welted or cherry red.   He never respected my safeword.   He never provided “aftercare”.  He thought of my body as “his canvas“.   I think the most fucked up thing I ever let him do was shove a Colt 45 in my ………

And that was the man who was really existing underneath the veneer I created.  The devil himself.

Maybe I am a masochist after all.   An emotional masochist.  Who would endure getting rejected over and over again.  Replicating the same gut wrenching pain, hoping “this time” will change.  That “this time” he will see that I have worth, beauty.  This time, he won’t scream at the top of his lungs again, if I ask a question he doesn’t want to answer or look at him the wrong way.

I hate myself for picking up that phone and calling him instead of doing something “different”, like other healthier people in recovery that I know are doing.  Instead I fucked up and  reached out for the familiar, knee-jerk jerk, hard-wired reflexive patterns that I know all too well.

Two steps forward and ten-thousand light years back……least that’s how it feels tonight.

Everyone knows Miss Scarlet was a whore and everyone knows Professor Plum was doing her.

6 responses to “Miss Scarlet, in the Library, getting fucked with the revolver

  1. Be gentle on your self girl. You are doing the best that you can. I’ve often thought that I am a sex/love addict. I’m sure I qualify for all fellowships. You have come a long way and never forget what u have learned. Hell if addiction was based on knowledge then then addiction wouldn’t exist. It’s the wisdom I need. Putting all I know into action.. Your in my thoughts.. xo


  2. Don’t worry. It took me almost two months of going to meetings before I finally got sober and started sticking to my bottomlines. I know some people who go to meetings for much longer before they finally stop acting out.

    I have a lot of “slips” on some of my bottomlines. I slip up on the online spying thing from time to time, and the last couple of days I’ve been having some pretty sexually charged phone/text conversations with a former lover. He’s married, and getting involved in a sexual or romantic way (even if it’s just over texting) with a married/attached man is breaking one of my bottomlines. For me, personally, if I had sex with my qualifier, I would consider it more than just a slip. Everyone’s recovery is different, though. Many people would consider my “slips” full-on relapses.

    Btw, I have a good friend who I met in the kink community. A few years ago she was seeing this total douchebag, wannabe dom, piece of trash; whom she let fuck her with a colt 45. She seemed to think it was hot. My response to her, and the only thing I could think was, “OMFG! What if there had been an earthquake?” But I guess you don’t have to worry about that in Massachusetts.


    • I guess I have to just keep working my program. My sponsor just gave me a boatload of reading to do. That should keep me busy. We are in the process of establishing my bottomlines now. It’s pretty clear to me, that one of my bottomlines will end up being no contact with the ex (X). Which is too painful for me to even contemplate; just thinking about it causes withdrawal symptoms, if that’s even possible……..How will I ever make it through?

      As an aside, on Aug. 23, 2011 we had an Earthquake here in Massachusetts, It was a 5.9 on the Richter scale. The epicenter of the quake was near Mineral, Va., some 85 miles from the nation’s capital.

      Thank you soooooo much for your support! : –)


  3. It happens. Don’t beat yourself up. I continued to sleep with my qualifier for 8 months after I started attending SLAA meetings. Each time for me I would say it was a relapse but really, I wasn’t truly even in recovery or ready to end it. I would also go through the weeks and weeks of not hearing from him (but still seeing him at work every day) and having to act like nothing was bothering me. Hang in there! We’re all in this together. 🙂


  4. all I can say is that God I am not alone, not the only one with this thing. I am glad I found you guys.

    I actually had friends making fun of me, for they know not, they understand not…..

    unless you walk a mile in someone’s shoes dare I say, dont be casting stones.


Go ahead, make my day :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s