Perrin Technique First Reactions

I had the most fantastic holiday but now I feel upset and uncomfortable. Last week was brilliant, I was able to do most of it and only got left behind a few times. There were long walks, swimming in the sea which was actually enjoyable and lots of time to read. It was different, we had two friends along which meant everything we did we tended to do together, I found this quite intense but I survived as I was able to have a room to myself and so could be alone while resting and sleeping. It was fun, so much fun, I changed colour a bit and read a lot of books!

However, on Tuesday I had my first appointment with a guy who is going to do the Perrin Technique with me. Mummy found him and wants me to see him and so I agreed. I was a bit wierded out as part of it involves breast massage but Mummy promised to come every session and so I agreed. It didn't start well, it was raining and I was meant to be driving on the way, for some reason my driving went to pot, not sure whether it was the rain or the fact that it was Mummy with me but everything went wrong and I ended up scaring myself and for the first time did not enjoy driving. The appointment was alright, I didn't really like him but what he did was alright, it was a bit odd taking of both shirt and bra but it was ok. It totally knocked me out the next day which was sort of funny, I thought the bed looked comfortable at about 11.30am and just wanted to lie down for a few minutes, next thing I knew I woke up and it was 4.00pm. That was a bit confusing but alright. Yesterday was good but not great energy wise but then I had a rest and we went out in the evening.

That was the most amount of fun I have had in a long time. Music and Fireworks at the nearby Defense Acadamy. Good food, good music and some really nice people, it was soaking by the end but we were having so much fun that it didn't matter. I had a ball and loved it so much.

This morning I woke tired but I had got to be late and had to be up by 8.00am so wasn't expecting to be on top form. Unfortunately, Mumy was tired as well and we had an argument on the way to my second appointment with Perrin guy. The appointment was horrible, it started off with a proper breast massage and I loathed it. I felt so tense and uncomfortable the whole time and just couldn't ignore it let alone try to relax. It went on for so long that I got annoyed and irratated at it and just wanted the whole thing to stop. Luckily I got cold so was able to put a rug on nearer to the end but I just hated being naked to the waist in front of this man.

Afterwards whatever he did made my head feel really funny and I just wanted to cry all the way home. I just didn't like it at all, and I don't want to do it again, but my next appointment is on Wednesday. It isn't like I can lie back and think of something nice as that might get the totally wrong reaction and I just hated what it felt like. It felt wrong to have his hands there, I didn't want them there and yet I had to just let him. I HATED it. I still want to cry just thinking about it.

I have a slight issue with personal space, for quite a few years if someone touched me it tended to hurt. This meant I got extremly wary about it. Although I do love human contact, a hug, a hand on my back, a ruffle of hair, etc. I only like it when I have said it is ok, when I welcome it and accept it. And the biggest part is that it is someone I know and semi trust. As I said in a previous post, I find it hard to trust and very few completely, in reality probably none, but I don't even like this guy. Let alone respect or trust him, and the whole thing feels wrong and I don't like it.

Reading over this I sound a bit like a child having a tantrum – I just don't like it – and yet all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry and for Mummy to hug me and say that I don't have to do it again. Instead she has booked me more sessions, one each week for a few months! She says she know it isn't great but that she believes it will work. All I can say to that is how many others have I seen after she told me that, ten years later I still have this bloody thing. He is invading my bubble, touching my body and I am deeply uncomfortable with it but still slightly wondering why I seem to be reacting like this and whether it is an overreaction. It isn't like he did it to me to molest me, or against my knowledge and permission – I had to sign something saying he could. But I signed more for Mummy than for me and if it was just me I wouldn't have gone near him. Maybe that is the difference. All I know is that next Wednesday he is going to do it again and I don't know if I can stand it.

Holiday

I am going on holiday tomorrow, I can't wait. Every year we go to the same place or at least the same area and we have a family holiday that is all reading, walking on the beach, eating and family games. Sometimes other people come along, most of the time we take the dogs and sometimes we take the horses. This year some dogs are coming and two friends. Last year I didn't get to go as I was ill so doubly looking forward to it.
Only problem is a four hour drive to get there and I am not good in a car, lots of pillows will help but still it is going to be tough. However, yesterday I bicycled a mile! I was so happy, apart from the mouth full of black buggies! They seem to be everywhere this year.

I also get serious thinking time, I have to sit down and decide what I am going to do in September, am I going to try again not being at home or am I going to stay? I am also going to try and work out how I am going to get to a munch. I am going to go to one this year, but still not quite sure how. Fun, fun, fun! Hopefully the weather will be great and I will come back relaxed and tanned and with my life sorted out for now! Snort!

Hot

This weather is so nice, I never knew England could actually have this sort of weather for this long. I have been able to have long walks in the evening with my dog after a day spent sunbathing by the pool. I am being totaly lazy though have finally managed to tidy my room completly. Just reading and doing some art, it has been perfect. At night, it is the perfect excuse not to wear anything.

I did this for the first time this year, last night. Just pants as I don't like being comepletly naked - I was talking to a friend about this and I think it is because it makes me feel so vunerable. It would be better if someone else was there! The feeling of the duvet hugging naked skin, being able to feel that texture on the inside of your thighs and your underarms. No material cloying against your skin. It is a true freedom.

This morning I went skinny dipping, with nobody at home it just seemed so much bother to put on a bikini. The water was so silky, and it felt just so fun to do something that is considered slightly risky. It is just so great not to have anything confining anything, going underwater was just magical, it was just the right temperature and such a brilliant day.

I just love this weather, less clothes needed - shorts can be worn! It takes less time to get dressed in the morning and you actually spend most of the day in a bikini. My skin is feeling great, soft from the water and slightly glowing when not red - I did burn a bit by mistake. Idilic days really, long may it last, the feel of water, air and sheets against bare skin is just such a turn on! lol

Trust

Trust is something I have always found difficult. I don't actually trust anyone completely, and I trust very few in various parts of my life.

I trusted my History teacher, he was someone I could talk to, he was fair, he was a good teacher and he knew how to relax and yet get the most out of someone. He did not take his emotions out on us and he didn't have a chip on his shoulder about being at a private school. Very few teachers of mine were like this, they were either moody, or had a massive chip, were too unpredictable or just couldn't control the class.

I trusted a boy I met a few summers ago at a cooking school, I felt safe with him, I trusted him and I could relax around him. I also completely thought he was gay until he told me about his girlfriend!

I don't trust my family. I don't trust my mother as she is too unpredictable, something one day will produce one reaction while another it will get a completely different one. She will promise to keep something secret and yet the next week will tell a friend or one of my sisters. She lets emotions rule her and she favours one of my sisters so blatantly that others have commented on it. Mummy will be joking with me about something but will suddenly get so cross that she will throw something in the blink of an eye. When I was younger I couldn't read her at all, when she raised an arm I didn't know if she was going to throw something, or hug me, so I flinched. This Christmas she almost ripped this family apart with arguments with my older sister damaging her health in the proceed.

I can't trust Daddy as he will never stand up for me or my sisters against Mummy, he will secretly come after it is all over and tell us that she was wrong but that we have to apologise, he just won't get into an argument with her. He lets her treat him like filth, although this has saved them from getting a divorce, I can't trust him to do what is best for me or my sisters if it goes against what Mummy wants.

I can't trust my sisters as they think I am weird, they laugh at me and put me down and gang up with Mummy against these 'differences'. They are too judgemental, I wouldn't be able to trust them with the real me.

I love my family, and I know they do so much for me, they fight battles for me and help make my life easier but I can't trust them.

I would love a proper friend, one who I could talk to about everything, one who I could totally be myself without fear of them judging me or laughing behind my back. It would be great and the thing I long for the most. Living with my parents properly at the moment is getting more stressful and more strained. I don't think I can survive the narrow mindedness and small amount of people I actually see for another year. I want to go out and meet people, people I know I will get on with and yet my parents and sisters look at with suspicion. People who like music, art, don't follow the preppy crowd and are free to be individual and themselves. Someone who maybe I could find to trust.

Facial Hair

I am totally superficial about facial hair. I might like a guy, I might fancie a guy but if he suddenly turns up with facial hair it is a total turn off for me. There have been only two people who I have met who actually looked good looking with facial hair but even then they were better off without it. Case in point with Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice he is very good looking but would be so much better off without the sideburns. Some stubble, is sexy but only five o'clock shadow or just woken up and haven't shaved yet. Full on mustaches and beards are for me a total no go area. This is shallow of me, there are lots of really nice people with facial hair but for me there is just something about it that is a total turn off.

I have read various debates whether the physical appearance of a Dom actually matters, whether or not it is the command they project and respect they inspire that does for the trick. I don't know, I haven't met a Dom as far as I know but I do know one thing, that if I do meet a Dom, he won't have facial hair.

I do apologise to all those out there sporting hair on your faces but until you shave it off, you just don't do it for me! Not sure whether Doms would have this or not but another turn off for me just generally is a damp limp handshake, look me in the eye and give a firm controlled handshake and my estimation of you will immediately go up. Don't just hold it either as that is just so awkward and feels as if you just can't make the effort, so why should I make the effort to like you.

So facial hair and damp limp handshakes are the two main things that make me go all superficial I just can't seem to get over them!

I'm back!

This past week has been a nightmare, I got a cold and my body decided to be a total hypochondriac and I was in bed for about a week and half. Feeling much better now though can't stand up for too long as everything starts to feel slightly compressed.
I have been doing a lot of reading though, and managed at last to get my laptop to accept the ebook version of The Story of O. As I live with my parents and any post I get discussed and shown with said parents and no hiding spot viable for such books I have been unable to read it thus far.

Well, it is written slightly strangely but I already knew that and once I got passed that, it was a really good read. It is nothing like I would want however, but I agree that it is a classic. I am not really sure what to say about it, I read a very good post on it the other day which did prompt me to try again. http://discerningdom.blogspot.com/2010/06/story-of-o.html

I like it, but to me that is too far. It is beautiful, but not my sort of thing. I can appreciate it but probably not fully understand the mentality needed. It made me think, it made me evaluate and it made me ponder what exactly submission means to me. Although this is very definitely submission, it is not the type of submission I can give nor the type of domination that I can take.

It is just not me, and it doesn't have to be. I love that in BDSM a label seems more to be a concept than a definition. There are so many different levels and varying degrees contained within each heading that while two people might call themselves a submissive they are in effect totally different in their attitudes to submission and yet there is an underlying commonality.

On another matter, I have had to rethink the mentor thing. I did think I was looking for one, but for now I am sticking to making some friends. If something comes up that I need advice on, then I can ask them. I talked with some people over an offer that somebody made me to become my mentor. It seemed camming and actually doing some sexual things was involved which at the moment I am not prepared for. I thought it would be someone who I went to with questions, who would maybe help me with some suggestions as to what to read etc. As to what the etc. was, I wasn't quite sure! The whole thing really made me think seriously and I have come to the conclusion that I really don't feel comfortable at the moment doing anything sexual, I don't think I am ready. If I meet someone and we get closer and it comes up then I will think again but I am happy with the status quo at the moment and think I still have some growing up to do.

It was really sad last week as I had to say goodbye to a friend who, if I had been well, would have become something more than a friend. He is going back to his own country and I will really miss him, he is coming back to England for university but I suspect we will not see each other again. Sad and a bit lonely, a lot of what might have beens, but I am now a year older and am positive that this year will be a year to reckon with.

Poem

I read a book called The Imam's Daughter by Hannah Shah and it had part of this poem in it. It touched me and I had to look it up. I really like it. Here it is in its intirity:

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer


It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.