Anxiety still sucks
Anxiety is like being sucked into a massive black whole that is trying to suck everything down into it, including you. You fight to get away from it but its winds are to strong. You back up, you try to stand, you even try to run, but the vortex is to strong. Inch by inch your getting sucked into this whole and there is no escaping it. Eventually you get tired and let go. You land at the bottom and realize thats its dark, cold, and your all alone.
I deal with axiety and depression. I struggle to make basic decisions. I have horrible self doubt, and I never feel good enough. I'm terrified to be seen as a failure, most the time I won't even try unless I know it's a sure success. I very seldom leave my house without my husband.
One of the worst thing I hate is when you talk to someone about depression or you tell them your depressed and they think you are "just sad." It is so much more than feeling blue or down.
Please don't ever feel bad for getting help or being on meds. I thought if I got meds than I was truly crazy. If anyone ever needs to talk I'm always good at listening.
I get out of the car and close the door. A red camaro almost hit me. My life flashes before my eyes. I see every detail of the moments I have lived. I see my childhood, teens, adulthood. Thoughts of my children and family.
I grab my groceries and head up to the house reflecting on life. All I can say is "It has been one hell of ride."
I've only been here a short time. Everyone welcomed me with open arms. I've felt your love for words. I have experienced your stories. Ive seen the encouragement you give others. I have seen constructive critsism, the good kind that helps the writer grow. You all try and help without breaking the writers spirit.
You see, I was on another writing site for a long time. That site was full of critics and critsism. The grammar nazis helped me learn a lot, but not in a constructive way. I stopped writing because I felt like I wasn't good enough at it. One man asked if "I was native to the English langue," that is when I stopped. Well I never really stopped, I just didn't write anywhere anyone could see. Without writing I would be a mess. More of a mess than I already am. I have to write for my sanity and I guess the sanity of everyone I'm around.
I was talking to a lady I work with and she said her daughter wrote on prose and that I should check it out. I did, and in a short time I've found I love it here with all of you.
I had a person who took the time to teach me a few things. I'm still learning how to write. I have a ton of stories in my head and a strong imagination. I struggle with making it make sense, but every day I'm getting better at it.
I really love all of your words and how they touch me, but mostly I love that I can just be me, blemishes and all. I feel free here.
Ps. I love all the creative challenges
Chilveary isn’t dead
"Mom why do I have to open the door for you? This is dumb." He shuts my door and heads to the passenger side and gets in. I look at him with my serious mom look. "Its not dumb, we are on a date and a gentelman opens and closes the car door for his date. Your girlfriends will thank me, plus Chilveary is not dead. He rolls his eyes at me as he adjust the radio. (He gets that from me ) "Ok mom, Im not even sure what that means. Can we just go to the movie?"
The walk of shame
I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was twenty three and a bunch of us girls were out drinking celebrating the proposal of my closest friend Mindy. We decided to go to Chicago which is about three hours from where we live. Bar hopping one night, and shopping the next.
We got a descent hotel room with joining rooms. Four beds in all which was perfect for the eight of us. We made our sleeping arrangements and decided who would shower first. We went to dinner first because none of us wanted to drink on an empty stomach. Looking back now I'm not sure Chinese was our best decision.
We headed back to the hotel to change and get ready for the big night on the town. We were all young and Sandra was the only one of us married with children. So why not get a little wild and crazy? I had just finished college and was having a little fun before I had to take State boards.
It was close to ten thirty when we made it to the club. It seemed like we waited in line forever to get in. The music was loud, lights flashing, bodies swaying to the beat of the music. We made our way to a private booth close to the dance floor. We sat there for awhile taking shots, and making fun of the all the people who obviously had way to much to drink. We would soon be those people we were making fun of clumsily dancing with two left feet.
I had on a tight black little dress with what I liked to call them my "Fuck Me Heels." I had absolutely no business dancing in such a short dress and high heels. After a few shots you can only imagine what I looked like on the dance floor.The music slowed and I made my way back to the booth where Jess and Stacy were having another round of shots. That's when I spotted him. We will call him dark and handsome because to this day I still don't know his name.
I pointing him out to the girls and they came up with most fabulous plan in there drunken state. I should go over and grab his package without saying a word. So, with my drunken bravado (liquid courage) I decided this to be the perfect plan. The girl who never talks to guys should grab his manhood and kiss him.
I stumble across the bar to where He was standing and did exactly that. His response was not what I expected. After I fondled the goods, He pulled me into and even hotter kiss. This was by far the best kiss of my life, but who knows, I was wasted. We couldn't take our hands off each other. Come to find out we shared the same hotel room. After a few more drinks and a ton of grinding on the dance floor we made our way back to his room.
His room was a lot better than ours. His had a private bar, a hot tube, and big bed. We made out and had drinks in the hot tube. The making out lead to sex. I would love to say it was the best I'd ever had, but I really don't remember much of it. What I do remember was the next morning his girlfriend waking us with her screaming. I hurried and gathered all my clothing that was thrown all over the place.
Walking to my hotel room I remember thinking "This is what the walk of shame must feel like."
A sudden feeling of doom. I look up from my writing, and everyone is conversing about tonights party. I check the coffe pot its off, flat iron is off, candles are all out.
Everyone is ready, everyone but me. No one seems to notice Im still in my pajamas . A house full of friends and I still feel alone. I look at my husband and tell him "I think I will stay in tonight, go on without me." He replies with a "Hell no, we have a baby setter its Saturday night. Now go get your beautiful ass ready.
I smirk and head to the shower. I love this man so much, but anxiety sucks. Now how to formulate a plan to stay in.
Our smallest addicts.
I hold you as tight as I possible can, rocking side to side, up and down. Crying shaking your head as I try to keep the pacifier in your mouth.
I think to myself "I wish your junky mother has to withdraw with you. Maybe then not so many babies would be born on drugs."
His little arms are flailing everywhere he arches his back. It's not quit time for your morphine. I rock and pat your bottom singing, sssshhhhing, doing everything I can to help calm you before your next dose.
Your mom finally has showed up after two weeks of not seeing you. The only reason she showed is because child services went to her house.
She says, "I don't know why it's taking him so long to wean him down." The nurse caring for you today explains to her again what could happen if you withdraw to fast. I see the desperation and fear in her eyes. She knows all the pain she has put you through, that's why she can't show up to see you. It's always a diffent excuse, car, kids, husband, but the real excuse is her guilt.
I hand you off to your mom and head back to my other duties knowing she will only be here a few minutes.
We have a huge drug problem in this world right now. Every day babies are born to moms that are addicts. They will get to keep their babies, because now they don't get it from the street they get methadone or suboxon from a legal clinic. It's legal and they still get high. Their babies our born addicts without a choice.
Rattle my chains
The light from a candle flickers on the desk. I see a shadow of him in the corner.
My wrist are bound by chains hooked to the head board. Legs spread wide, a spread bar is secured in place.
He moves forward and my anticipation rises. My breaths become shallow, as my heart begins to race.
I flinch as he caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. He yanks on the chains to make sure they are secure.
I'm becoming restless waiting for his next move. He puts a blindfold over my eyes. I’m left with only my hearing and sense of touch.
I hear him move around but can not make out what he is doing. I feel the soft touch of the flogger as it moves over my flesh and touches my sex.
The flogger is gone and I feel him blow on me. I wait for his mouth but it never comes. I imagine his tongue.
Then it happens the sting of the flogger on my skin. I grab the chains and writhe under the weight of them.
He comes close and whispers in my ear.
“YOU BETTER NOT RATTLE MY CHAINS”
Awakenings: Chapter one
Looking into the mirror, I don't even recognize the person looking back at me. My Long dark hair flows down my my back. I hardly ever wear makeup.
Tina told me this morning,— while standing in front of her closet, “Go heavy on the eye makeup tonight.” As she pulled out this little piece of scrap, she called a dress and tossed it at me. “Girl, smokey eyes are always best for a night out, and you can never go wrong with this little black number. Tight, shows off the girls.”
I stared in disbelief, “You can’t possibly expect me to go naked?”
“Nonsense, You’ll be the hit of the party. Trust me!” This will be perfect for your figure. Just alluring enough to bait the hook.” She winks and nudges me. Her sly smile always gets me; — and then she hands me, shoes?
“Stilettos!—I won’t even be able to walk in these things. Plus these are not shoes or heels these damn things should be on a stripper.”
“Damn girl,— think about how these babies will make you taller and enhance the shape of your legs. Men will start at the heels and gaze upward following the lines of your beautiful calves, leading all the way to that luscious ass of yours,—— entranced as you walk. Girl they’ll be falling over themselves like week old pups gnawin’ for a teat!” —— Oh!— And get a Brazilian!”
“Why, in the hell, would I do that. “Nobody’s going to be see my naughty bits.”
“It’s not about what they’ll see, It’s about how you feel. The whole package. You’ll know — they’ll be chompin’ the bit for a piece of you!”
There’ no way I would even… “You might wax — and like that pain! But some of us prefer to go all-natural.”
“Baby, pain is a small price, to feel good. You need to go all out. No holes barred!”—GET the Brazilian, You’ve got to have a runway to open the possibilities. And no hose. You have Legs. Don’t mask um. You’re going to be showin’ them the whole package tonight.”
She could see I was begging to back out. She gives me that look; — Mother Lecture?— Come on! She even goes all, “Sweetheart...” on me. “...You never go anywhere. You stay in this house all the time. It's not healthy watching Netflix all day. — And bringing your work home? Go out, have fun, meet new people. For heaven's sake, you are only twenty five. I swear, — sometimes you act like my grandmother. Plus, — the tickets are nonrefundable. I'm clearly sick and can't go, so you have to do this for me.”
What a morning as I reflect back shaking my head. And now — the image in the full length mirror? I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I blot away some excess lip gloss; because you know, “with smokey eyes you have to have slutty-red lips.” I finish touching up my makeup and hair.
Damn, this dress is short, I shift while staring in the mirror, feeling the fabric caressing my skin. It’s thin lines concealing practically nothing.
“What did that girl talk me into?”
I can envision the Dinner Exposé in tomorrow's headlines, — “The Unveiling,”— Young woman flashes the crowd with a garment malfunction. Entree served,— tender white breasts, with a dash of blush... “Damn!”
I try pulling at this skimpy little thing she calls a dress up in the front and down in the back. "Ugh, This is useless." Turning to get a good look at the curvature this mini magnifies.
“Hum,” Tina was right, “My ass does look hot in her little dress.” I pause, I’m not really going to go through with this….—— “Am I?”
How in the Hell did I let Tina talk me into this? “This is foolish,” Nothing good could possibly come from me going to this stupid party.
I look up at myself and realize, “I'm talking myself out of going.”
I grab my keys, before I end up changing my mind,— and my clothes. “Good grief,” I feel silly in this dress. The wind hits me just right making me very aware that I am half naked, very bare, very moist, and very very sensitive in the nether regions.
“I work in a publishing office for Christ’s sakes!” Most of my clothes are dress casual. I try to keep it as comfy as possible while looking nice, but nothing like this tight provocative piece of coverage. Currently growing shorter and shorter. “Shit!” Can this even be classified as clothes?
I have a medium frame, and I am rather short. Most dresses are long on me. I take one last glance in the mirror. What was Tina thinking? “Entirely too much skin.” This mini and top screams, “fuck me!” I can’t go out like this.
“Shit!” if I back out now? I’ll never hear the end of it.
Tina’s words keep playing back in my mind like a rolodex-DING. “You are a young beautiful Vixen. Live dangerous if only for a night.”
I get into my rusty old Camaro and my ass is sticking to the leather seats. This little piece of fabric is riding up again. I grab the ticket from the visor and glance at it. It reminds me of “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory.”
Holy shit! I look twice just to make sure. Yep, in big bold print, “Sara Johnson.”
That bitch new all along. "Sick my Ass."
Just wait until I talk to her. Tricky Tricky.
“All of this for a damn dinner party?”
I pull up to the drive and check the ticket once again to make sure I am at the right location. A man is standing there. I assume to open and close the gate. I roll down my window and he instructs me where to park. “Hi ma'am follow the drive up, park right behind the last car you see.” I give a quick nod and head up the drive.
I get out of my car and just stand there. “Holy Hell!” This is a freaking mansion. When I was pulling in I didn't notice how big this place was due to all the big trees surrounding the property. I take a deep breath and exhale. HELL, I'm nervous already and I haven’t even made it inside.
The outside of the house is all brick. It looks like “Dracula’s” castle. Several towers with high peaks rest on both sides. It has everything but the moats.
They have to have someone working on these bushing. “Seriously,” I have no idea what any of these plants are. I would like to think I have somewhat of a green thumb.
My phone rings the tune I have set up for Tina “Girls just wanna have fun.” I answer right away. She has some major explaining to do. “You bitch, you had this all planned out. My name, in big bold print on this damn ticket. I knew you weren't sick.” Tina giggles letting me know my suspicion is correct. “Our you there yet?” I sarcastically tell her, “Yes, but I'm in the drive.” Letting her know I can still back out of this. Tina gives me some lame excuse “I had to lie to you. You would have never went otherwise. I'm just making sure you didn't back out. Now get your sexy ass in there and live a little.” I tell her “You are off the hook for now, but if I have to listen to anyone chewing loud I am kicking your ass.” I end the call abruptly letting her know I'm a little pissed about her deception.
I look up and see a very handsome well built butler. I notice he has a military buzz cut. "Who wears their hair like that anymore.?" It's kind of a light bright brown color, but not quite blonde. Our eyes meet, I feel his piercing gaze burning right through me as if he can see me,----as if he can see my soul.”
He is wearing a tailored suit that fits perfect."What is it about a man in a suit?” He looks dark and mysterious, as if he could work for the CIA instead of a butler. “This way madam.” He bows and waits for me to come in. “May I have your ticket miss?” The ticket looks so little in his masculine hands. He enunciate each word with an accent I can't quit place.
“Also before you join the others I need to place a name tag. Women, men, or both?”
I find this an odd question, but don't think too much of it. Probably just seating arrangements. I fill out my name tag and tell him, “Either one is fine with me.”
He gives a wink with a smirks then pulls out a red ribbon and pins it to my name tag.
“Baby, pain is a small price, to feel good. You need to go all out. No holes barred!”—Get the Brazilian. You've got to have a runway to open the possibilities.”
Reserved Sara Johnson finds herself entering a torrid new world through influence of a close friend that unveils the depths of a secret longing held restrained.
Sara finds herself falling for a man. A man who is perfect in her eyes, but he only has one little problem. He is a swinger.
She finds herself going to several of his parties. This new lifestyle creates fear of exposure to family and work associates, yet the excitement and danger push her forward on her new path.
Torn between two worlds, past and present. Her roots, and her new exciting life. Will she follow Calvin down this road of sexual excitement or will the need to be his one and only push him away? Will she choose the paths of the past?
She strives to come to terms with the challenges and the consequences of what this holds for her future.
Changes” probes the fears and anxiety we deal with as we step off one course onto a new path and the trials we face. Do we let life pass us by or do we grab hold to see where it leads?
Sara’s Undoing will interest the eye of any adult who likes reading erotica with a bit of kink, and light bondage. A rated R, adult read. It's a good fit because it will bring light to anyone's sexual desires. A read estimated of 100,000 words will entrance any of the erotica readers with the unknown lifestyle Sara has found herself in. It will keep readers wondering what choices she will make. They will have a glimpse of the lifestyle and the struggles that are endured through having a polyamorous relationship.
My name Jessica . You may call me Scooby. I'm a thirty five year old mother of two. My children are my life and will always be my greatest accomplishment. I've been married to my best friend for thirteen years. We do almost everything together, hunting, fishing, shooting our bows. I love water, there is something about water that calms me.A few years in college as put me working at a small hospital in Indiana in labor and delivery. I only work three days a week. The rest of my time is spent writing, reading, and hanging out with my family. I try to live life with no regrets none of us our guaranteed a tomorrow so why not make today the best.
I've never really considered myself a writer, but I have a very vivid imagination which leads to me writing great stories. I mostly write erotica, but I also find myself writing paranormal-- werewolves, and vampires stories. With the help of an amazing new friend, here I am putting my imagination out there for all to experience. Touching other souls with my words.