Noah is going to wait till September then start looking around for folks to see solo. Because neither of us really want him going through another period of intense depression if I stop wanting sex.

I’m really scared of this. I deal with Noah dating by hiding in a small space and crying and cutting. Because it is so existentially terrifying to me. No, this isn’t responsible or adult. But it is how I have been coping since I was a small child and it is only fairly recently I have admitted that this is the long-term pattern so I’m not open to being shamed as a “manipulator” because this is how I handle my feelings.

I’m broken. But that doesn’t mean I’m trying to manipulate people. I’m just trying to get through the best I can. I wish my best was better.

I am very grateful that at least three people have already specifically said that if Noah dates they can be Krissy-sitters. Which could help. I have not traditionally had the umph to schedule such things. I’d rather stay home, feel rejected, and hurt myself. Why ask other people to make me feel good when my expectation of life is that I will be rejected and I should be hurt because I am unworthy of being alive.

This isn’t about Noah or the people he dates. Not really. This is about me. This is about my mom. This is about intrinsic worth problems.

I’m thinking a lot about sex vs attention. I think I have mostly always treated sex as attention. The kind I could get.

I was shocked when Deity told me he would be ok with non-sex dates. Aren’t you dating me because you want to get laid? It is weird for me.

Know what I’m noticing? Mostly my folks are people who I pursue. I initiate contact. I ask for dates. I ask for time. I’m the one makes sure we have a relationship.

Someone is pursuing me. And not really for sex. Ok, sex might be nice at some point. But sex isn’t the goal here. Clearly.

You know how you aren’t supposed to compare people? I’m noticing what it feels like to have someone initiate contact with me the way I usually do with other people. oh goodness that’s nice.

I am not sure I have ever been pursued like this in my life. This is by someone who isn’t demanding/pushing for sex. I think there was one person who would have been like if I let him but he had already abandoned children in multiple countries so I told him to fuck all the way off. And he wanted to do it because of sex. He wanted to be having sex for 2-4 hours/day and I could keep up so he wanted to keep me. But no. You abandoned your kids. I don’t want you.

Noah was really distracted at the beginning of when we first dated. He pursued me hard, but he didn’t have a lot of time free. It wasn’t daily. And it was always sex focused. Then I dumped him. Then he showed up and asked me to marry him. Which is a lot of pursuing, and not all of it about sex.

Ok, I know that asexuality exists. But I don’t grok it. I know that you can have romantic but not sexual feelings… but I don’t grok it. I know that someone can theoretically get to a point where they are having “enough sex” and they still want companionship… but I don’t grok it.

Do you know when I don’t want sex? When I’m having hormone problems, my children are present, or I am too torn up to manage.

Otherwise I want sex. I don’t understand this not wanting sex.

Ok, so like I don’t want to frantically bang all the folks I’m friends with from the homeschool group. No. That’s not how it works. I do have blinders where there are non-sexualized people. But I don’t have romantic feelings for them. I have intense affection. I want their company. I think they are lovely people to model off of.

It’s romantic/companionship sans sex I don’t get.

It’s kind of funny. I see Eldest Child manage this. She has romantic feelings without any hint of sexuality. I watch what that looks like. It is….

Whoa.

At her age casual like meant I should have sex with someone let alone intense romantic feelings.

Every day I wonder who I could have been if I would have had a different life.

I’ll never know. Just keep walking.

Last night at bed time all of a sudden I got really giddy. We are going on a cruise! And I will feel beautiful! And people will be there just because they love us and want to support us because otherwise they sure as shit wouldn’t do something like that. Ha!

I know that going on this cruise doesn’t mean that these people love me more than anyone else. It means they have the disposable income and time available. It isn’t about how much other people love me. This is a big big big big big big hurdle.

You don’t have to jump this hurdle to love me. I don’t believe that even a little bit. I’m loved by a lot of people. I know that.

But I’m really excited that there are people who think that the Krissy & Noah Show is worth this much effort. We will try to make it a fun experience. My trip to Florida last year is going to seriously pay off. I know exactly where to go in the Keys. I want to take everyone. We will need to rent two minivans.

Let me show you some of the most beautiful parts of this country before it disappears. Miami just might disappear in our lifetime. At the very least it is going to be damaged worse than New Orleans at some point. Come see it now. It is beautiful.

Thank you for coming with us. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

No. This cruise isn’t a necessary part of proving you love me. But it’s a pretty dramatic showing from a few special people. Jenny is my oldest friend. My Bonus Family is coming. And one unexpected delightful additional family. I didn’t know you were going to be so important to me when I met you. Gosh I’m glad Noah met you at work. That was serendipity.

I look fucking hot in the bikini I bought for the trip. The kids are looking forward to wearing their Miami bikini’s.

Noah should get a full body modesty suit and he hasn’t yet. Ha.

I have uhm done clothes shopping. I do shopping for and on trips. Most of my clothing I bought for the trip to Scotland. I don’t need a lot for this trip so I’m probably done. Maybe I can find my way to Santa Cruz and find some new bloomers though. Mine died an ignoble death.

What a blow out. Sigh.

I even got some miniskirts for Noah’s sake. Eek. My preference is ankle length (or at least cover the knee). Clearly I am a giving and loving wife. Even though I’m not real big on the trophy wife thing…. heh… once in a while I’ll be generous and wear a damn miniskirt.

It’s the little things that make a marriage happy.

I don’t really like it when Noah is depressed because I’m physically incapacitated and I have nothing to give. Which kinda makes it sound like I need to get over resisting what we know combats his depression.

I don’t like reality very much. Reality is a shitty place with horrible things that burst the bubble of my feeling of safety that my glittery hoo haw will make it all come out ok.

Nope. I failed. LIke I fail at so many things. That’s life. I am inadequate. Yup. That’s true. Will I be able to find the courage to ask for help dealing with my resulting bouncing feelings this time? Every other time I have retreated alone to hurt myself.

It’s not because I am trying to manipulate anyone. It is because that is what I think I should do when I have let someone down by not being enough. I don’t know that I have enough ask in me to deal with this. That’s the problem. Because people are busy. Because I’ll suck up my courage and ask that one person and…. they can’t. So I will sit home and cry and hurt myself.

Because I am a terrible burden that no one deserves to have thrust upon them. Because I have never been anything but a terrible burden. I have really already received far more than my fair share of help in this life. Whatever help that exists should go to someone better.

I should just shut the fuck up.

I never seem to manage that part, do I?

I wish I could. I wish I could just hurt myself and shut up about it. But this is part of the record so that my kids will be able to look back some day and go “You were weird around (dates/ages) what was going on?” and I will be able to honestly tell them. But I won’t tell them now. As children all of this has to happen off screen. But someday they will want answers and I don’t want to rewrite history. It is what it is.

I want to be as honest as I can be. Besides, the more honest about it I am with myself the more I can treat it like a fungible problem. I like that word. Fungible. It means replace it with another. That’s kinda what I do with myself. I play games and I move around the goals. I try to figure out how to replace bits and pieces of the game with other bits or pieces.

Can I find a way to replace terror with security?

Fuck if I know. I got turned down for yet another PTSD study. I’ve already done too much work. I’ve tried too many therapies. I’m too motivated.

We have some couples therapy time coming up. It is a long and inconvenient drive and location. So whee. It’ll work out. There’s some stuff we need some outside help with. We can’t listen without shutting down and being defensive. We can’t be open to what the other is really saying we are locked into our fear. We need some help. I’m scared it won’t be enough but it is the next step in trying. We aren’t close to divorce or anything like that. But we aren’t being nice to each other and we want to be. I’m not hearing what the most important pieces are to him and I’m running rough shod over some of the things he cares about and pussy footing around things I don’t need to and I don’t really understand which is which. I need some help breaking this down.

I am not always the best listener. Sometimes I’m sorta a self involved asshole. A little bit.

We need to make this work. We need to find a way or make a way. There is no way out but death and I’d rather not commit suicide right as he finally let me meet the third child I’ve been longing to meet for half my life.

Breakfast time.

I like having lots of friends with benefits and lovers. So many that I really kinda have to be a comet. I can’t be regular or consistent. It works when it works.

I think bdsm stuff is going to go closer to back to that box. I just don’t have the drive when I’m pregnant. (Although I just had the most intense mental picture of pegging my submissive while pregnant. That was quite a thing to just jump into my head. Well hello there.)

I don’t want to break up with people, not really. But I do want to… loosen the expectations of frequency. Maybe you won’t beat me again for a few years but it’ll happen again.

There is this one friend/occasional play partner. She was the third person I ever played with and the first person I played with in the munch/party crowd I spent years in intensively. We have never played often. But we do sometimes. Not every year. Just when it works. And that’s been happening since I was 18 years old. In August I asked her if we could do a 16th anniversary scene. She said yes. I’m thrilled.

But that kind of occasional is important to me. I like the trailing end of love that comes with it. “Ok I know it’s annoying that I’m not up for play more… but when I am it’s great!”

In some of my interactions the breaks come mostly from me and in others it comes from the other side. I can cope.

My Sarah has a phrase she likes for an important person in her life: “Once and Future Sweetie” and I love it. (I also love the man she attaches it to–he’s good people.) But I feel like that with folks. I don’t actually get done done done with people that much. But I may run out of drive to force a relationship and if you don’t ensure it is ongoing it just won’t exist.

So much of my life is about me pushing relationships on folks. I’m an asker. But it takes a toll. I run out of ask sometimes. I feel too ashamed.

I feel ashamed of wanting so much more than other people. More intensity. More conversation. More sex. I feel like I’m always trying to tone it down so I don’t bother people too much. More time spent. More work done. More more more. More attention. More stimulation.

I really wanted to go to Friday Night Waltz tonight. It sounds fun. But I’m so tired and I need to spend my energy on painting. We have house guests arriving on Sunday. They stay for 19 days. I need to have the work done in the house more than I need bonus exercise at bedtime.

fuuuuuuuuuck remodeling.

I am going to ask them if they want to go to the 4th of July party we would like to go to. I have friends visiting one Wednesday. Hopefully my Bonus Kids will come over, even though it’ll be a zoo. It will be a joyful zoo. And the Bonus Mama would really like my friend. So I’m crossing my fingers.

Beyond that… I have no dates or socializing planned for the 19 days. I need to pay attention to my friend.

It hurts me very much that I have traveled all the way across the country and people who profess to love me a lot paid no attention to me whatsoever. My goal is for my friend and her two sons to leave glowing with love and attention. I need to not spread out what I have to other people. I need to keep it home. They need the infusion pretty badly. I mean, don’t we all. But this mama needs to feel love a little more than average. I want to fill her bucket.

And they are used to a very quiet retreating life with very little socializing. They don’t travel like this. This is all my initiation. Ha. Come visit me. I miss you. I want to pay attention to you.

But everyone else can wait. I’m not going to do what that dude in NYC did to me. I flew across the country to see him and he had a first date with someone else while I sat in the room and waited for him to be done beating and fucking her.

I sure know how to follow around folks who aren’t that into me. I’m over it. I’d like to be worthy of better fucking treatment.

Noah acts like I am.

Or my other friend in New York who declined to put pants on and walk three blocks to see us because that was too much trouble. You know what? I find visiting people in New York to be horrifyingly awful and I’ll never do it again. I find that visiting people in New York means I go from liking someone a lot to not liking them as much because they treat me like shit.

I’m not bringing New York habits home. Fuck. That. Shit.

I’m not sure why I’m feeling pissy about that just now.

I’m thinking about how I want to be treated. I both want someone who is comfortable saying “I would like to see you, scheduling?” and comfortable hearing “Good god not this week/month.” Which is hard.

I want someone who wants to kiss me so badly that they don’t walk past opportunities but they have excellent boundaries about keeping their hands and lips to themselves when my kids are around. Well, even keeping hands to oneself isn’t really the same. I hold hands with my friends in front of my kids. Always have. I hug my friends in front of my kids and I don’t want that to change. My kids see me climb into fully dressed piles of adults and snuggle lots of people.

I’m comfortable with that.

Because in their head there is a difference between sex (what they know I do with their dad) and snuggling/dating.

They don’t understand what the difference is yet, but they have a fuzzy perception.

I like that my kids are comfortable with physical boundaries with people. They are comfortable asking for and giving hugs when they want to and when they aren’t in the mood they are clear about that. They have no baggage around owing anyone anything. When someone tries to wheedle affection all of us are harsh. “What part of setting a boundary is hard for you to hear?”

I feel good about how this part is going.

Do you know what I did for the first six months of having a baby? I sit in a chair and nurse and play with my computer. Because I didn’t have anyone but Noah to talk to and he’s busy a lot.

It was ok once. It was hard a second time. I can’t do it a third time. I can’t. I have to be too emotionally consistent with the big kids this time. I can’t be as variable. The pressure continues to mount. Shit.

Oxytocin. That has to be the way.

Maybe when the baby comes Noah can work a little bit more on the weekend so that his ignoring-Krissy-time overlaps better with when other people are available. I don’t know. Maybe?

I bet you that if it were on a Saturday I could talk my submissive into picking up a weekly shift where he comes over and talks to me and reads with the big kids and maybe rubs whatever part of me is most achey that day. I betcha. But it would have to work around his schedule which is more demanding than Noah’s is these days.

I’d be happy to wear out the hands of as many people as I can during pregnancy and the year after. I hurt. Noah has limits. He does a lot. I’d be up for as many volunteers as I can get.

I’m an opportunist.

Do you know what I feel intensely secure about? If I can figure out how to do it so I feel ok my submissive will adapt to any and all boundaries I set even as they move up and back and sideways and forwards. He’s already been through this roller coaster once with him and I didn’t even let him in as much as I will this time. No, I won’t be the sadist of his dreams for a while. But that’ll come back too.

I don’t think I’m over wanting to carve him up. I’m not over wanting to kiss him or fuck him. I’m just… scattered and tired.

I know I’m not over wanting to kick him in the nuts. That is one of the most satisfying, awesome feelings IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. It is just a sometimes treat.

Right now the idea of doing a kicking scene makes me need a nap. I’m so tired.

Am I a user? Do I give back to the people I take from? I don’t know. I really don’t.

All I know is I have acupuncture in 3 hours and a phone call with a couples therapist in 6 hours. See, we are all proactive and shit. There’s stuff we need some help to figure out how to discuss. What do you do when you need help? You go find some fucking help.

This isn’t our first rodeo and it won’t be our last.

We’ll make sure of that.

I have so much to do.