From the Wild Collective Heart series: Part 25

Content Warning: Trauma, dissociation/DID, coercive control, trauma bonds, psychological manipulation, abusive power-exchange dynamics, and references to mental health destabilization.

Leaving therapy sucked so much for me. I’d been using it to run away from my system, as it turns out. It was my safety net, me and my psychologist “against” my system. It was never going to work like that, but I couldn’t have that awareness until we left therapy.

In retrospect, it really was time to leave. We were making our choices and being responsible for them. We were functioning well for us. We were living the life we wanted to live.

But fuck if there wasn’t that ex Dom there reminding us we can be out of our mind if not vigilant.

I threw down and joined my system in all the reindeer games. What else was there to do? They had the majority, and system law says the majority gives no fucks about my sensibilities, logic, and care to live a respectable life.

I’m not at all spiritual, and what transpires next is both my deepest shame and my freedom to create exactly a shit pile of shit if I want to.

I let myself fall for that jackwagon. It’s so disappointing to me and so “not me.” I mean, I actually started to see the beauty in the intentional triggers he was pulling off on us and what I could learn from them.

My own curious nature got out of hand. I no longer had therapy to throw myself into, so I threw myself into… whatever it can be called. An incredibly abusive, toxic D/s? He called it biology, but that was dumb. That places me as an animal, a pig if you will, and I never consented to being a pig.

I can also be controlling in that I figured if I threw myself in, I could somehow gain back some kind of control in the situation, even if it was gradual over time.

I found the situation and circumstance hilarious. I went mad, full-steam-ahead mad.

Every good mutiny deserves a part like me, and I showed up to play my role.

-Raven