I am nervous. It makes me twitchy and anxious. I can feel it in my stomach, in my chest and maybe most of all in my brain where it crowds in like a choking thick smoke, overtaking everything else, snuffing out the light and air and making itself the most important thing. It can be a vicious circle, the nerves feed an anxiety which heightens the nerves and so it goes on, consuming and demanding me. It is not all the time, as a general rule I am fairly calm level person but some things just press my buttons and when they do they tend to press them hard.
I am also a thinker. I spend hours pondering all sort of stuff from the everyday mundane to the deeper more complex stuff. There is nothing wrong with that. Personally everyone could probably do with a bit more thinking in their lives however, and I am sure there will many people nodding to this next bit; thinking is good, over-thinking is bad. Over-thinking, and I am speaking from experience here, and being nervous are very similar things. Over-thinking tends to start slow and small but as your mind builds it up it grows and grows until it is all you can think about. No matter how hard you think, ponder, worry, deliberate there never seems to be an answer, and even when there is over-thinking, or so I have found, tends to lead me to negative conclusions, often about myself.
I suspect you are wondering why I telling you all this. Well the prompt for Wicked Wednesday this week is ‘nervous’ which got me pondering the whole subject and thinking back through my life and how I have dealt with/managed these things and as I did it made me smile with delight as I realised that I now have the cure-all medicine for these, when required. I still have moments of being nervous and I am still prone to over-thinking but whereas before I could easily get locked into a cycle that only ever became increasingly negative I now find myself in a position where I can reach out and get what it is I need to help wash away those things and allow me to move on past them.
Sometimes I don’t even need to say anything, sometimes he just seems to know, to sense the imbalance in me and other times (because he is not a magic reader of minds, although it often seems like he is) I will ask for what I need. I am not good at asking though, maybe, hint is a better word for it but in the end the result is the same.
My skin will burn, my blood will pulse through my system, the endorphins will flow. Sometimes the tears or even laughter will join them and when he done the throb in my flesh will linger, often for days, acting as a persistent reminder, banishing the nerves to the far corners of my brain where they belong. Giving myself up to those moments of play, whether it be bondage, impact or a mixture of both, allows me to just completely let go. Sometimes it almost feels like a ‘rebooting my computer’ all the little glitches that have built up over time are wiped out. There is no space for them, I am this moment, this feeling, this body and when I resurface afterwards I do so renewed.
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