February 23

Another night up till 5am, and not for fun reasons.  I find my depression and my grief has been hitting me in the wee smalls of the night.  Last night I found myself restless, agitated, awake, yet exhausted, trying to disassociate (big part of the problem) from my building emotions by playing a simple computer game, lines, over and over again.  The dialogue raging in my head.  My grandmother's dead, my last safe place in the world is gone.  All the sacred places are ending.  I don't know how to soothe myself anymore.  Why am I so dysfunctional, why can't I pull it all together. This is the time in my life where I felt the most alone, I feel so alone, even with all the friends and loved ones I have in my life, I feel so alone, so alone, so alone, and so so sad.  I just sat, half numb and half awake, half broken, crying quietly, so as not to disturb Wolfe or our friends Aya and wife, sleeping downstairs.  I cried for hours, I couldn't stop.  I also felt as if the pain was too great and too deep to comfort or contain.  So I didn't know what to do with it.  Which is probably a good thing, because I think what I 'do' with it all too often is try to stuff it away out of sight and out of mind.  Where it only festers.  Swelling up to overtake me when I finally become so exhausted that I cannot contain it any longer.  It was, overall, a good kind of cry, the pain, was manageable.  I also did work my way through to finding, to creating a 'safe' place, for myself and my feelings.  Running a hot hot bath, liberally laced with a cocktail of essential oils, heavy on the lavender and ylang ylang, to soothe me and ease my sorrows.  All my tense muscles from hunching and crying, unknotted by the caressing heat, almost painful, pulling the breath from my lungs, making me sweat.  The book by my bath side was the Marquis de Sade's Justine, and reading a few passages.  After my long cry, I found myself aroused, so rare on these occasions when my anti-depressants sap me of my libido.  Masturbation in the tub left me even more breathless and truly weary, so that when I did emerge and towel off, smelling yummy, everything in me was depleted, yet, cleansed.  I felt like I had been washed in my own tears, then those washed away, and a sense of odd peace embraced me once again.  I curled into the clean sheets between Wolfe and the dogs and the cat, and fell into dreaming. 

Aya went to the party last night, in some ways in my place, and played with the out of town subbie that I had gone to the workshop with.  Coming back to our place late at night, the girls decided to crash here instead of trying to make their way back home.  They're such sweeties, I'm going to miss them when they move to the interior.

I also got some great email from someone who reads my journal, this articulate creative intelligent woman (obvious from her mail, and not just because she's a 'fan' <laugh>), who feels less than beautiful, she's 6'1" and a BBW, and wasn't aware that there is a -huge- segment of the populace out there, male and female, that really adores BBW, taller the better.  The few thousand people in my yahoo group The giantess shrine, not to mention the BBW group, to start with, but many many more.  Definitely not just men either, my ex-girlfriend for instance, and Aya, who has a thing for 'chubbs' as she calls them. Out of the population that thinks of women as 'goddesses' many of those people visualize a goddess type woman as someone who is big and curvy.  

I have a few leads on some more local models, so I'm feeling optimistic about that.  In fact, I'm going to go follow up on them now!

XO
Leila

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