'Tis A Season ...

There's so much to write about I don't know where to begin. And there's just much too little time these days to write about it. The apartment sale collapsed, the employee search continues, and I scrimp, scrabble and scrape for study time as the operating account bounces along like a gas gauge needle kissing empty.

The wife and I are getting along better. But tonight she's away and for the first time in about a month I feel excited by the potential of opening doors. My mood just sort of brightened despite all the danger in the shoals I pass each day.

One day I shall return to focusing on the blog. I swear.

My muted kink. A pale, distant, wispy shade of obscure winter grey.

Ms. Veronica finished her interview with me a week or so ago. She's such a smart chat and an insightful questioner. We got off in the weeds of a riff on how I think a chunk of my kink is anchored in my sexualization of my mother's inappropriate behavior toward me. She was so interested and curious about all the stuff I'd struggled with over the years on my shrink's couch. I went on and on about the characteristics of incest survivors. Encouraged by her interest I found a study on line and sent her the link.

Later that night she sent me back an excerpt from the study about how male incest survivors often compensate for their feelings of inadequacy by taking up very macho hobbies. Hence my tweet about playing football as a teen and taking up bird hunting in my adolescent middle age. She seemed genuinely surprised that I was a jock in prep school, which all fits with the whole overcompensation thing.

Her interview was a happy reminder that my knowing other smart, sensitive, sharp kinky people is so important. Her engaged inquiry and her easy friendship put an emphatic exclamation point on all my blood, sweat, tears of fighting to understand who I am. She just flat out seemed to like how fucked up I'd been and how much insight into it I had developed. It was all okay. Even fun and intellectually interesting.

In this difficult, emotional dry tinder of a holiday season occassioned by the visation of unrelenting change it was really nice to have the fires of self doubt quieted. Made me feel like when I pull through all this I'm gonna go out and run this town one night. How's that for overcompensation?