One step forward, one step back, it seems, since my last blog post.

The threat of Brexit has receded somewhat for the time being, although I’m not holding out hope of any breakthrough soon in terms of ending this mess. Still, it means that other stories are now the focus of the news programmes.

Kittlen’s health remains a concern, both mental and physical, and that is continuing to have a knock-on effect on me. 🙁 It hasn’t been helped by some recent incidents in Second Life.

One was the return of Coyote, after being MIA for many months. She’s back doing DJ sets at both CFNM and Boudiccea. Kittlen was a bit annoyed, because Coyote has seemingly been accepted back as if her long absence was nothing of concern. Speaking for myself, I’m just bemused.

Kittlen also suspects that Coyote is trying to worm her way back into our lives because she misses the support we used to give her. But she’s out of luck if that’s so, because that ship sailed away long ago.

One thing that hasn’t changed, from what I heard and saw the few times I went to see Coyote perform, is her DJ-ing ability. In other words, she’s still where she was two or more years back, while both myself and Kittlen have raised our game several notches.

The other incident was more recent, and involved Gorean roleplay. Kittlen had been begging me to let her go play in the Gorean sims, and I reluctantly agreed after meeting and chatting to a mistress who was willing to take Kittlen under her wing.

However, things didn’t work out, and one scene in particular saw Kittlen safewording and screaming for me to come hold them. Eventually, I got the full story about what had happened from the mistress, Tasha. The rules of the Gorean sim required that Kittlen be branded as Tasha’s slave (for roleplay purposes—it was understood by all concerned that Kittlen was my girl) so that nobody else could try and claim her. But it brought back bad memories for Kittlen, and she bolted.

This put me in an uncomfortable position, as I had to apologise to Tasha for Kittlen’s breaking of the roleplay. Apparently, there had been other aspects of the roleplay that she’d not been willing to accept, and Tasha and the other roleplayers were tired of having to try and accommodate her behaviour.

All of this meant that I was starting to feel frazzled again, right when I needed to knuckle down and do my day-job in the real world. Thankfully, that went through without any major hitches, but worrying about Kittlen has not helped my mood, because I’m constantly dreading more bad news. 🙁

So I’ve made the decision to step away over Easter in order to recharge my batteries, and give myself time and space to decide my next moves. Kittlen doesn’t like it, but has agreed that I need the break. I know she’ll keep trucking as best she can. I just hope that we can reconnect somehow, and do so in a way that helps us both grow and move forward.

One Reply to “Renewal”

  1. I have one question that I know the answer to already: Did you bother to ask me where I was when all this went down?

    The answer: No.

    I had warned I was about to safeword. Instead of a Fast Forward in the roleplay, they were going to still RP it with me there! I warned first. Let me repeat this: I Warned That I Was Going To Safeword! The RP was going ahead with or without my consent.

    I logged out of SL when it was going to go ahead. Spent maybe 30 seconds shaking, and realized that I had 15 minutes to get to my doctor’s appointment that was at least 20 minutes away, if not more, depending on the traffic.

    I had been dragged into RP that is on my profile as a firm limit, that I didn’t want to do, that I couldn’t do, and was going to log out anyway because I had to get across town, and I get labelled a “runaway” and “bad RPer.”

    At the doctor’s office, I got some bad news. Nothing major. Frustrating is more like it, but it’s still bad news. News I have to deal with. News that I don’t want to deal with.

    Did you once ask me where I was? No.

    Did you ask me if I was emotionally okay? No.

    Am I?

    No. Not just the news from my doctor, but the multilayer body memories I had and still am having have eroded my sleep.

    I thought real life came first.

    Once again, I was proven wrong. Real life is never first for me.

    The irony is that I was obeying you when you told me to go see my doctor as soon as I could. I did.

    This is yet more proof that I can never do anything right.

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