The meditation has created this new need for more relaxation than before. I crave more sleep and less mindless routines like constantly checking my phone or scrolling through my feed on Facebook. For the first time in my life I am enjoying my own company, not to avoid the world outside myself, but because I am starting to feel safe in myself. Another victory.
Category: ART
A beautiful process
I’ve done so much research about my health issues and I’ve found something really interesting, something called histamine intolerance. As soon as I’ll see the dermatologist, I’ll talk to them about it and make a blood test. But it’s a perfect match for all my symptoms – even my monthly hormonal imbalance. I feel both excited by this discovery but also a little worried because then I have to skip almost everything in my current diet. So I don’t know if I’m hoping to be diagnosed with histamine intolerance, but I just want the symptoms to go away and to feel better.
I’m still working hard on my process of independence – and I’ve liberated myself from behavioral patterns derived from old family dynamics, roles and masks I’ve used as protection and learned helplessness because of self-abandonment. At times, it feels like leaving home and everything I know behind, to search for new ways of thinking and being – something unfamiliar but wonderful. I wish everyone could go through this process. It is truly beautiful – almost like an out-of-body-experience where you’re looking back at who you used to be and studying that person like it’s a stranger and all you feel is self-compassion and acceptance whilst letting go.
Premonitions
I had a good night’s sleep even though I had a nightmare about Domenique, and when I woke up, she wrote to me – for the first time in six months. I’ve been having a lot of nocturnal premonitions lately, I had another dream a few days ago about losing my eyebrows and now I have lost a little of my eyebrows (and some eyelashes) due to my health problems. But I’m happy about getting better sleep, it’s been a while since I felt rested when I woke up in the morning.
I’m working on finding balance both in myself and in my daily routines. This has been good for me and I’m being more creative now, more at peace. Every day is one step closer to getting out of this situation where I’m dependent on other people and places. I’m soon there. I just have to keep doing what I am doing.
“Getting to Know You – getting to feel free and easy”
The “Getting to know you” musical scene from “The King and I” (1956)
Part of my process of personal independence is to feel safe in myself. And for that to happen I have to fully reconnect with all my parts – and to define what feeling safe is to me. I sat down and tried to understand what feeling safe within myself means to me – in this way I’m also getting to know myself better, especially my body which has been like a stranger to me during all the years I was suffering from PTSD and separated myself from my body to be able to survive.
Being safe in my mind:
Be present, relaxed, rested and at peace (through meditation and personal growth), self-compassion, trust myself, believe in myself, know I am capable of dealing with difficulties; trusting my intellect, intelligence and my wisdom, understand that my past is no longer real and it can’t touch me, not allowing other people to judge me, not allowing other people’s opinions to affect me, not taking on other people’s responsibility.
Being safe in my heart and soul:
Be Mia (always), be honest and genuine, protect my soul and don’t waste my intimacy on anyone who doesn’t deserve it, only trust the trust-worthy, speak from the core of me, express myself through my creativity and don’t hold back or censor myself, push out the negativity and toxic energy, celebrate my strength, resilience and courage and be wise about using them well, don’t depend on other people to feel good or worthy, don’t try to rescue other people or depend on other people to rescue me, only rescue myself when needed, feel proud of who I am, nurture my true nature, fill my life with purpose and meaning, let love inside, don’t be scared or try to protect the heart if the love is pure, accept myself and both my strength and my weaknesses.
Being safe in my body:
Take care of my body, live healthy, be kind to my body and treat it with love and respect, listen to my body, trust what my body has to say, let my body rest, heal, express itself and have fun when it wants to, accept my body – accept its beauty, flaws and vulnerabilities, feel proud of my body, don’t see the body as a stranger, get to know it and make friends with it, only let the right people come close to my body, don’t let anyone take advantage of my body, express my sexuality when I feel connected, don’t punish my body or let anyone else punish it, don’t self-sabotage my body, don’t feel ashamed of my body, meditate daily to keep it from being tense, celebrate my body, be grateful that I am healthy and alive, feel privileged to have a functional body.
2010
In this way I am able to reconnect all my parts and stop being dependent on external things or other people to feel safe. If I’m going to liberate myself completely and become independent in areas where I’ve been scared to leave my comfort zone and unnecessary dependency, I have to remember all this. I have to reprogram myself so that this will overwrite the self-destructive thoughts, feelings and behavior that stems from the wound I have in my soul. It’s time to heal it, once and for all.
“Getting to know you,
Getting to feel free and easy
When I am with you,
Getting to know what to say
Haven’t you noticed
Suddenly I’m bright and breezy
Because of all the beautiful and new
Things I’m learning about you
Day by day.”
Thoughts through the fog
It’s a foggy morning and I’m feeling foggy too. I always start to contemplate and evaluate the year around this time. What a strange year it’s been. So many beloved celebrities died, both international and Swedish, a demagogue was elected as the next President of the United States, the words I’ve seen most used in Swedish newspapers this year are ‘rape’ and ‘sexual assault’, I got really sick, had closure on something I never thought I could let go of, I finally accepted Johnny’s love and I killed my inner Lolita once and for all.
I made many mistakes this year, awful mistakes – but I achieved many amazing goals too, small ones perhaps but all of them leading me forward. Even the mistakes pushed me forward because I choose to view them as experience and something I’ve learned a great deal from. This new way of thinking will eventually cure my fear of failure – and as I am growing stronger within myself, I will also overcome my fear of success.
Every year, I create a plan for the following year, I will soon make one for 2017. The goals for this year was:
- Improve self-esteem and find more inner strength
- Work on a new collection of artworks
- Read more books
- Take care of my health
- Practice self-discipline and be focused
- Elaborate my new ‘thinking style’ and explore my intellect
Well, I can check off most on this list – but I’ve only read one book so far, but the year is not over yet.
This was also the year where I reconnected with my body – through the painful experience of the infected tooth – so even my dental hell turned out positive. Perhaps this year wasn’t so bad after all.
A different palette
The colors on my palette are a bit different this time. This could be a painting too, but I haven’t dared to go abstract (yet).
The Goddess
I’ve been painting – and I took “The Wound” in a whole new direction. I’m looking for colorful simplicity and of course, a strong expression. I never compromise, as soon as I do, I start to doubt everything. Compromises are only productive between two people, not between an artist and their creation. In the creative process, I get to play Goddess and I create my own world – a world that rings more true to me, than the real one outside my window.
The bald and the beautiful
What a strange night. The church bells kept ringing for an hour. In the morning, I woke up to rain and feeling slightly off. But I’m working again, painting on ‘The Wound’. and coming up with new ideas for more paintings. It’s funny, every time I add hair to my characters, it ruins the whole expression. I can’t do hair for some reason. I ended yesterday’s work with making the character bald and I felt better about it.
Some of my baldies:
“Scrollan” by Mia Makila, 2009, acrylic on canvas
“The Idiot” by Mia Makila, 2016
“Gary the Ghost” by Mia Makila, 2010
And characters with hair:
“His Wet Dream” by Mia Makila (acrylic on wooden panel), 2015
“Death to the American Dream” by Mia Makila, 2008
“Manic Mandy” by Mia Makila, 2013
I’ve been losing a lot of hair this year, due to stress, and it is one of my biggest nightmares to become bald and completely hairless. I love my hair, it makes me feel feminine and beautiful. A lot of my sexuality is in my hair, I don’t know how to explain it.
Perhaps the core expressions – embodied in my demons, have to be as bald as they are bold because they are not about gender, identity or beauty. They are human, deeply intimate – channeling our inner child and spirit and who we are at the core. Something that is real and raw and connects us all. Hair is a superficial part of the human body – I go deeper than that. My demons even lack skin. So to put a fancy hairdo on top of their heads is like decorating a Christmas tree, it takes away from what they want to say. What I want to say. What the core has to say.
The bells toll for thee
Soul wounds
I’ve always been skeptical when it comes to self-help books – they are too close to spiritualism and it makes me feel uncomfortable. But when my job coach lend me a copy of “Heal your wounds & find your true self” by Lise Bourbeau, I got a bit blown away but how accurate she pinpointed my personal experience of my inner wounds, where they are rooted and all the negative things they’ve brought into my life. Bourbeau points out 5 inner wounds and the masks they create in us so that we can live with the wound without confronting it. It’s like having a wound on your hand and disguising it with a glove, just so you can’t see it anymore – but it’s still there and only getting worse and worse over time and you’ll end up with a bad infection.
My inner wound is abandonment (rooted in my childhood) – and my mask is dependency. It all makes so much sense now – why I’ve stayed in destructive relationships, why isolation makes me ill, why my fear of love is so overwhelming and so many other irrational thoughts, feelings and behavior. All these new insights made me feel liberated and my healing process has been steady and productive – I am moving beyond so much crap that was rooting in this wound. Even my creativity blockage triggered this wound when I abandoned myself, my art and all the ongoing projects and paintings. I’ve abandoned myself just as much as other people have abandoned me (mentally, physically, emotionally, sexually etc) – or perhaps even more.
My job coach gave me a great gift by lending me that book. I wish everyone could read it and find the answers to their misfortune and suffering. The book helped me get closure – and I started to take care of my wound without covering it up with dependency. It’s scary and wonderful at the same time – the process of independence. That’s what I’ve been doing all year. It can be a long process, but boy is it worth it!
Queen of anxiety
Ovulation day. Mild anxiety and health issues. Grey skies. Wacthing Little Jinder on TV. I love her and her Lolita power, I feel connected to her world. I finished the work on“The Idiot” – even though I felt I was already done with it since the last session. As soon as my expression has manifested itself in the painting, I lose interest. Just like Hitchcock, he was done with the movie once he’d storyboard it in his head, the shooting and editing was just pure labor. The ovulation makes me feel so tired, otherwise I would’ve started a new piece already, but I will once it’s over. I feel full of life, but I can’t seem to find a way to let it all out. Am I scared of losing control? Of losing my old identity of the queen of anxiety? On a day like this, it’s damn hard to know.
No interference
I’ve been painting, meditating, watching films and drinking tea. It’s a good day. It’s been a good week. A good month too, so far. Johnny and I are getting closer. Hearing his voice through the earbuds while closing my eyes, almost transports him here, next to me. There is no static between us. No interference. Only love.
I’ve never let any man come this close before. It used to terrify me, this closeness, even though it’s been my highest wish to be really close to someone. But I am not afraid anymore. I decided not to be. It was that easy. But getting through all the obstacles so I could make that decision was very difficult.
2015
When we talk, we float into each other, melt together in the silences and through the laughs and we’re cleansing our hearts together, deep inside our invisible home. I know it will take years for us to be together in real life, but it doesn’t change anything. I feel happy. I feel close. Our intimacy outsmarts the missing and the frustration.
Next year will be so different from this year, I can already sense it. This year was all about letting go and to accept what I’ve never been able to accept. Next year will be about finding the pulse of life and getting in sync with it. I want to lose weight. I’ve had so much extra weight on my shoulders for a very long time, and it shows in my body as well. I want to feel beautiful. Healthy. I want to celebrate my femininity. My raw female power and strength. I want to do, to be, to make, instead of healing through the intellect and meditation. Next year will be my first real year as a person, without the traumas or the fear. I’ve worked so hard to get there. I am so close. I am so close to finding life. To letting myself go – without inhibitions. I am so close to whatever reality is about, without the dark edges around it.
Various degrees of intimacy
Some week ago, I wrote about how I’ll study my creativity as a scientist to see if I use it as rest or play (work), but I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not about that. I use my creativity as both rest and play and it’s relaxing, fun and hard work at the same time. What I’ve discovered is how I use the different techniques and media to express myself – I am always driven by my core and what it has to say and therefore my creativity is a very intimate force. The digital expressions, writing, digital art, poetry are all based on my innermost feelings and thoughts but I am more flexible here. I can weave my personal stories into a more general expression, something that concerns other people. But with my analogue art – such as painting, mixed media, drawings etc, I feel more protective of the pieces. They don’t concern other people, only me. My analogue art is my most intimate expression, perhaps that’s why it’s so linked to my sexual energy.
“Out of Reach” by Mia Makila, 2016
“The Core” by Mia Makila, 2016, acrylic on canvas, 81 x 100 cm
Baby Blue
The Remains I & II
My digital art, painting, drawing and mixed media.
“There’s clearly a connection between your creativity and your sexuality – what is it?”, my therapist once asked me. I didn’t understand it at the time. I answered; “Perhaps it’s where I am most traumatized?”, but that isn’t it. During the 7 years where I was creatively blocked, I had a recurring nightmare about pooping in public. “The excrement is your flow, it’s a wishful dream.” She said when I told her about it. And I get it now. The flow of something very intimate that I release in the public arena. It’s coming from me – it’s produced inside me and it’s a mix of old things that my mind, heart and soul have digested and turned into something else. Something new, that want’s to be released. I make something beautiful out of the crap that happened to me in my past. My paintings and drawings are as close as you can get to my core, without knowing anything about me.
“Sex Monster”, 2013
“A horny she-devil”, 2010
I used to feel forced to produce paintings and mixed media pieces for art shows and collectors and that’s when I got all burned out and stopped working. I got blocked, lost my momentum, my self confidence and my ambition to work as an artist. No wonder, that’s not how I’m supposed to treat my analogue art. It is far too precious and magical to me to be used as a cash cow. It’s like selling your soul. I can never go back to working like that again. I have to find a new approach to my art as something I can make money on.
Pictures from my art show “My Pink Hell” in Copenhagen, 2009:
The stories behind my art: “Meltdown”
‘Meltdown’ by Mia Makila, 2012 [digital]
An early draft:
work in progress – ‘The Meltdown’
Detail studies:
My diary, March 7, 2012:
“Wow. At last I’m in the glorious flow of creativity again. It’s been years since I’ve felt this way. I’m working all the time – yesterday I sat 11 hours straight in front of PhotoShop. There are no words for what I’m feeling right now. I’m in love with all that life entails. Even the pain that comes with it. I feel all tingly inside. Horny too – as I always feel when I am in this flow.
But next week I start my trauma treatment at the Crisis and Trauma Center at Danderyd’s hospital. Hope my creativity flow will continue even during this new time of therapy. Maybe I can even use what I am experiencing in my PTSD treatment in my new art. I hope so.
My new art is the most honest I’ve created so far. It exposes who I really, really am. Somewhere between light and darkness – and where the light dominates the dark.
I don’t know where my art will bring me right now, but I don’t mind not knowing. I follow all the impulses of my excitement.”
Dagboken, 17 januari 2013
2013
Mitt liv såg så annorlunda ut förr, det kändes som om jag var vilsen bland uppspända kulisser som på något sätt trängde sig närmare inpå för varje dag, till slut kunde jag inte längre andas.
Ur min dagbok, 17 januari 2013, Stockhom:
“Ok. Jag försöker andas i fyrkanter. In. Ut. In. Ut. In. Ut. In. Ut. Skulle ha följt med M till hans föräldrar i Sigtuna idag men kände redan imorse att det inte skulle bli av, att det skulle bli åt helvete med den här dagen. Jag klädde mig under största känsla av självförakt, borstade tänderna och kvävde den sura uppstötningen jag alltid får på morgonen numera – som bara bekräftar hur sur jag känner mig – helt genomsur. Rutten. Svullen. Stel. Äcklig. Avslagen. Jag drog på mig ytterkappan med hål i och kände samhörighet med hålet.
Gick hand i hand med M på den hala isen fram till tunnelbanestationen. Benen stela och lata av spändhet och stress.
Vi kom fram till T-centralen och jag blev kissnödig. Som alltid när jag får panikångest. Betalade en tia för att kissa inne på Åhléns. Satt och hukade över toalettstolen medan jag tyst bölade där inne i det lilla båset. Plöstligt kändes min trasiga kappa så himla tight. Lossade på halsduken. Knäppte upp, men det hjälpte inte. Torkade mig mellan benen och tårarna och gick ut. Fem minuter senare blev jag kissnödig igen och de inte har några toaletter på tåget mot Sigtuna. Nej, jag kan inte… jag kan inte följa med… Vad skulle hända om jag måste kissa… det tar 45 minuter med tåget och sedan ytterligare 20 minuter med bil när hans föräldrar hämtar oss på stationen. Vilken panik! Klaustrofobiskt. Det går inte! Det går bara inte!
– Älskling, blir du besviken om jag inte kan följa med?
– Nej, varför skulle jag bli det?
– För att jag inte klarar av ett skit numera. Känner mig så misslyckad.
– Sluta med det. Men jag måste åka nu, det förstår du?
– Ja
– Vi hörs på mobilen. Åk hem och vila.
– Ok.
Han går och jag känner hur omöjligt allt är – helt i onödan på något sätt, känner mig som den mest misslyckade människan på Jorden. Gråter. Snorar. Ringer mamma.
Vill inte åka hem och vila. Hatar att vila! Jag vill LEVA! Sitter nu på Hurtigs konditori och försöker låtsas-leva lite innan jag ska hem och ‘vila’.”
Thursday thoughts
As I am liberating myself from the darkness I used to carry inside, the world outside is slowly transforming into a beast. My meditation helps me shut out the negativity – and I’m finding more self-compassion every time I dive into myself like that. The more self-compassion I build for myself, the more clarity I find in how I’ve allowed people to treat me. I can’t go back to how it was or how I treated myself and let other people treat me, I am awakened and enlightened – free from the heavy responsibility of serving others without thinking of what’s best for me. I’ve taken another step closer to being able to reboot my career. The following days I’m gonna practice self-discipline and be creative – and I want break in my new studio! Since I no longer see my demons as enemies since I’ve made peace with them, I should have fun with them in my studio as well.
An American Nightmare
What a nightmare. Having an American boyfriend makes this election feel even more relevant to me and my life – and the outcome made us both feel sick to our stomachs and creeped out. It’s like witnessing the rise of Hitler but not falling for the manipulation. Scary times are awaiting.
Celebrating acceptance, tolerance and love is more important now than ever.
The digger
I believe my days of digging into myself and my past are finally over. I’ve found the root to all my pain and I’ve disentangled myself from it. From now on, I will only focus on my future and how to get there in the most secure, wise and fun way possible.”
Stockholm, 2010
The root
“Hysteria” by Mia Makila, 2006 – mixed media on antique photo
I’ve come to a very important place in my self-therapy work. I’ve found the root to all my traumas and emotional wounds, and it goes back to my early childhood (where every bad thing seems to be rooted for all of us). It’s all coming together now. I’ve disentangled the knots in my mind and unlocked my heart. And I’ve faced my demons and made friends with them (there is no point in trying to kill them off, it won’t work).Through meditation, my own therapy work, and a little help and support from other people – I’ve found clarity (awareness) and it has been the key to an acceptance that has led me to this new spiritual liberation.
I don’t feel the need to complain about my issues anymore. I can’t blame my misfortunes or suffering on others because I can see that I was part of them too. I allowed it to happen, I invited it into my life when I accepted the unacceptable, when I abandoned myself and when I gave permission to other people to treat me badly. I don’t hate my abusers, I don’t hate myself – hate has no place in my heart and it doesn’t serve any purpose in my life. I only need to hold on to the lessons I’ve earned from going through all this, and it will work as the guiding light on my continuing journey forward.
It should never be about what happens to us, it’s all about how we react to it – and what we learn from the experience. This insight will kill any form of victimization and unnecessary suffering. What we allow is what we’ll suffer. Acceptance is the key to the healing of a very old wound that’s been neglected for too long.
My new studio
I have a good feeling about this new space.
The extraordinary
2011, Stockholm
The meditation has taken me to places I never thought I would experience -and I’ve only just begun exploring it. The sadness is leaving me. Perhaps I’ll always carry a sadness inside, but I feel like so much of it is fading. Finding closure has brought me to a new phase of acceptance and the meditation brings me peace. I am healing. In fact, I am overcoming the process of overcoming a trauma. I am moving past the darkness. I am slowly coming out in the light. Which is ironic, because the days are getting shorter and it get s darker and darker every day here in Sweden. Today I walked in the first snow of the year. But it’s not cold in my heart. On the contrary, I feel so filled with love and warm light. Perhaps the days of my emotional purgatory is finally over. I have accepted, released, and found closure – it was all I had to do to start breathing again. It was so hard to do – but now it feels like everything comes easy, like I was stuck and now I am liberated from it and I’m just going with the flow of life.
I’ve had a couple of extraordinary experiences through meditation lately, but I am keeping them private. What’s important is that I am now free to focus on other things instead of dwelling, worrying, obsessing and feeling scared and anxious. It’s all over now. Everything will be OK, I have cleaned out every nook and cranny in my mind, soul and heart. I no longer carry anger, bitterness or fear in there. I know what I need to do to get to the nest phase of healing, and I have so much to look forward to. This is all kind of surreal, considering how close I was to a new depression just a few months back, it is magical if you know how many years I’ve spent crying. I don’t have anything to cry over anymore. I have problems just like anyone else, but I’m no longer weighed down by my past. I never thought this day would come.
But it did come – and it’s an extraordinary feeling. To be free that way. Free of the heavy weight of a trauma or two.
The drive
Another rough night. Tomorrow I’ll switch the rooms back to the way it was when I first moved in here, I’ll get better sleep in the other room. I’m feeling restless but motivated to go back to painting. This time I’ll study myself while working – to see what the painting process means to me, if it’s a way for me to relax or if I consider it ‘work’. I’ve never really defined those things – and they are important. My artistry has been so linked with the motivation to prove to myself and to the people who have bullied me or abused me that I can achieve whatever I want if I put my mind to it. That I’m stronger than any form of abuse or humiliation. And I don’t feel like I have to prove myself to other people anymore. I am not driven by vengeance or a defensive disposition. Now, I want to express myself and I don’t care what other people might think or feel about me. It doesn’t concern me and it doesn’t affect my ambition to say the things I want to say through my art. I am more driven by the thought of sharing the experience of trauma and recovery – the spiritual healing through facing all the demons inside. The cleansing of the core – and its expansion through all the layers of self-protection, self-abandonment and shame.
The sweetness of my second youth
Reconnecting with my body, especially through meditation, is an extraordinary experience. I am exploring the sensations of pain, pleasure, touch, rest, relaxation, anxiety, tension and release as if my body was just handed to me and I wrapped myself in it for the first time. Where have I been? Where do I disappear to when I’ve been dissociative and lost within myself? Meditation is helping me heal and to stay connected between mind and body. But it’s a foreign feeling. I feel young. Like I am a teenager, discovering myself in a new, adult body. I guess I am overcoming the Lolita thing in many ways. I am so done with her. I’m growing up and I am enjoying the sweetness of my second youth.
“Felicia and the Fellatio” by Mia Makila, 2013 – dealing with bodily trauma in my art has helped me a lot to reconnect my mind and body
But there are some dark emotions that goes with the sweet. There’s a lot of anger and disappointment towards myself, when I think about all the danger and discomfort I’ve put myself and my body through. I forgave myself a long time ago, it’s not about blame or guilt. It’s simply a reaction to becoming a whole person again. To understand the value of my body, mind and heart. To acknowledge what I like, dislike and what makes me feel good or bad. I didn’t have the freedom to do that in my past. My body has never really belonged to me until now. When I was I child it belonged to the Doctors and my parents for the various examinations and treatments for my eczema that I had all over my skin. In my adult years it belonged to the men. I was acting like a good girlfriend and thought it was my duty to serve them whatever my body could provide, but I never asked my body what I myself wanted and needed. And I ended up in abusive or negtlective relationships which both traumatized me and my body in many ways, and I had to split them apart in order to survive. Then the destructive disconnection followed. the self-abandonment. The dissociative states and the self-destructive compartmentalization in order to avoid any cognitive dissonance.
This new self-discovery and self-compassion is so healthy, even though it also opens up these places of anger and sadness. It’s part of the healing process and I have to go through it.
Sexsomnia
Me, sleeping, 2010
I recently read about a phenomena called “sexsomnia” (a condition in which a person will engage in sexual activities while asleep) that has rapidly increased amongst men, especially men accused of rape and sexual assault. The accused men claim they suffer from sexsomnia – but they use it in order to avoid going to prison. They can’t be found guilty or being held responsible for their rape or sexual abuse if they weren’t aware of their own actions. This is a very sad and troubling social development. Either there’s a severe epidemic of sexsominia spreading – but only man to man – or it’s a tragic trend. It’s affecting me deeply because I use to live with a man who would only want to have sex with me while I was asleep. I often found myself being in the middle of an intercourse while sleeping in my own bed at night. Always from behind. I heard his breaths and grunts as he was handling me as if I was nothing more than a fuck doll. Once I woke up this way, I felt confused and strange. Like I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. We hadn’t been sexual together for a few years, the only times were were intimate was when I was falling asleep, waking up or sound asleep. Never during the day. Never when I felt sexy and ready. Always when I was in my most vulnerable state – relaxed, unprepared and kind of out of it.
Even though this made me feel confused while it was happening, I let him do it to me. I didn’t fight or push him off. But it didn’t feel right and I wasn’t enjoying myself. My pussy wasn’t even wet – my mind was in a totally different place. My friends label this as ‘rape’ – I didn’t see it that way at the time, but now I see how I was sexually abused while I was asleep and thinking I was in my safe place, with the man who was supposed to protect me, not cause me any discomfort or abuse. When I confronted him the next day I asked him “What were you doing to me last night?” and he answered with a smile: “Oh, yes – wasn’t it nice?”. “But… I was asleep” I said and he shrugged his shoulders and simply answered: “Well…so was I”. And that was that. He never asked me if it was OK to do that, and I was too confused to tell him that it wasn’t. We weren’t having any intimacy or sex when I was awake so I thought, at least I’m having sex, even if it was in some twisted way. I wish I could have left him before we became sexless. As soon as a relationship dies that way, it’s probably gonna stay dead anyway.
I used to live with a man who suffered from sexsomnia, but he loved his disorder and embraced it. I have a feeling that it’s probably exactly what most men who claim they suffer from sexsomnia also does. What a lovely and convenient disorder for a man – but what a nightmare for his woman who can never be sure of what happened to her while she was asleep – in her own bed at night.
Work in progress
I’m still working on “Fleurs De Fringe”, enjoying the delicate details and harmony between the cut outs.
And it all started with these hi res images that I found online:
MIA MAKILA 