Warning: Contains topics of suicide.
Any unexpected ways kink has improved your life? If so, what are they?
Mental health is something that all of us have, but many of us don’t want to admit when we’re struggling with it. I’m no different: thanks to some toxic attitudes in my teens, I too am used to struggling alone. I vividly remember a day that I told my mother that I felt “weird” (because anxiety does that to you) and she snapped and told me that “life is full of weird feelings”. So, after that, I learned to try and ignore my weird and battle through it – to assume that everyone feels like I do sometimes, and I shouldn’t bother other people with my problems.
My guess is, that probably sounds quite familiar for some of my readers.
In the winter months, my mental health gets even worse. I suffer with Seasonal Affective Disorder, which means to say that, to me, the winter months seem gloomy, depressing and never-ending. My anxiety goes up, my head hurts and functioning becomes hard to do. In the silence of winter I hear other things too, like the pipes from the central heating vibrating, which drives me insane. Not feeling like I can escape this feeling exacerbates my anxiety.
One of the things that I used to really struggle with was the long hours of separation with my husband working away from home. It would take him about 90 minutes to get to work, and 90 minutes back, which meant that I was on my own for almost 11 hours of an average 16 -hour day, assuming that he finished on time. There are no local groups or activities for disabled people in their 30’s to go and have a cup of tea and a chat either, which meant that, right when I was already struggling with my mental health and the dark thoughts that it was causing me, I was often at home alone.
One recurrent thought that used to cause me a lot of anxiety was the thought of hanging myself with the dog’s leash from the shower curtain rail. I knew that it probably wouldn’t work, but, that didn’t stop the thought from being there. I was anxious, I was stressed, and I was alone.
I remember my mother losing her cool with me: She was frustrated with me and my way of thinking and thought I should go to the doctor and try medication, but I refused. I’ve been on various antidepressants over the years, and none of them made me feel good. I knew somewhere inside that I didn’t need pills. I needed company during the long, deary winter days, I needed empathy, and I needed support.
I was invited to go Christmas shopping in city centre with my parents but, even then, I couldn’t stop thinking: I couldn’t stop thinking about my thinking. Why was I thinking this way? Did I really want to die? Did I really want to kill myself? It was like having a monster inside of my head, something that wasn’t me, pulling the knobs and spinning the wheels.
I stood by an exit road from a multi-storey car park and my brain was urging me to jump in front of the traffic – just one leap, it said, and it would all be over. I was in tears: I didn’t want to die, so why was I thinking this way?
My Mum said I was being “stupid”, my father said I needed help. Matt called me, asked me what was going on, and told me to go home, get warm, get some tea in me and take a nap.
I did – I passed out for three whole hours.
For me, this wasn’t so much about Matt caring for me: It was an instruction from my Dominant partner, instructing me to go home and take care of myself. Matt wasn’t messing around, Matt isn’t to be argued with and I know that. Matt is steadfast in his approach with me, even if he seems unassuming and unintimidating in himself. Matt has been bullied before, and he put the bullies very firmly in their place. I know that, with Matt, it’s best not to argue.
Since then, I’ve seen this as the day that BDSM saved my life, because it was the care and concern of my Dominant partner that directed me in a safer direction. Today, Matt works from home, and I am pleased to say that, for now at least, those thoughts remain firmly at bay. I have some funky green light therapy glasses that I use during the autumn and winter months, and I have company now too. If I struggle, he’s all too glad to give me the kick up the ass that I need, and vice versa.
Today, I have someone that I can talk to about my mental health, and who even cares about it, too. Some of Matt’s rules for me are based on mental health, for example, no self-harm, and no hiding my thoughts and feelings, especially if they’re bad ones. Matt knows that I still struggle to open up sometimes, but struggling to open up is okay. What’s not okay, though, is hiding my thoughts and feelings altogether.
That’s it from me for this post. How has BDSM changed your life? Leave a comment below or read more 30 Days Of Kink posts!
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Until next time!
Stay safe & have fun,
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