life, love, psychology, relationships

Falling for Power and Strength


– What are your workout goals? – my fitness instructor was a lovely-looking kid, polite, defined, in his early twenties.  – What would you like to achieve?

 – I …  I … want … – I slowly looked around trying to put my thoughts together. Guys were working bloody hard leaving sweat and hand sanitizer on steel beams. They came here searching for strength, since being strong felt good and smelt like power.

“His name is Jim. And he is strong” – this thought suddenly flashed through my mind. I shook my head trying to get him out of my head.

Jim did not go to a gym, his work out equipment was people. He bent them the way he liked, totally subjecting others to his will. He always got what he wanted being capable of buying and selling anyone as many times as he liked.

 – I go after what I want hon, – he made decisions and worked aggressively crashing obstacles, caring very little about people’s feelings, – I grow and sell businesses, this is what I am really good at.

 – Don’t you get that I am not your freaking business project?! – I grabbed a plate from the kitchen table and fiercely threw it on the floor. It broke into pieces.

 – You gotta clean it up, Vixen. Do it, now, – he was firm, direct, and scarily calm.

 – F*ck you.

He slowly put the laptop aside and reached out to his iPhone.

 – If you do not clean the mess, I will call the police and report domestic violence. I do not need that crap in my home.

 – Really? – our eyes met, I did not see any understanding or compassion.

 – You are such a gentleman….

 – Clean .. the mess … now, I am not repeating myself here, – his voice was low and assertive. I kneeled down and started picking up the broken pieces from the floor. Dealing with the police was not something I was looking forward to; I knew he would make a phone call, he never made empty threats, he was way too busy for it.

He watched me sobbing on the floor with a trash bag searching for the tiny sharp pieces. – Take this, – He gave me a pair of rubber gloves and a broom. I felt like a dog submitting to the owner’s command. He did not care.

I blocked his phone number, he started coming to my home. His “I am a take-charge person, I want you, and I will have you” drove me nuts, it was easier to give in than to explain why I do not want to see him any longer.

His strength was enormous, he rolled through the life like a tank ignoring anything that was not helpful to achieve his goals.

He never got why I discontinued our relationship, I was unable to explain, he never listened. When he asked me if I loved him, I shrugged my shoulders. Watching a TV show with tanks in action was fun, but the idea of having one in the household was not that enticing.

 – So, do you know your workout goals? – the fitness instructor was getting impatient tapping the pen on the table.

I gave him a smile. Jim was still in my heart and on my mind.

Yes, of course. I am here to be strong. And we gonna start right now.

happiness, health, life

Ignore Your Mind Games, Just Live


 – I am tired of your games, – Jim was angry, I was quietly snacking on a pine apple.

Split personality, getting through my days under endlessly changing masks; altering the thought process based on the day of the week, on the frequency of sugar intake, and on the degree of the body dehydration. That was my way of living.

 – You are bi-polar and seriously psychotic, don’t you see? – Jim looked pissed. I kept licking the pine-apple juice off my fingers.

Unlike myself, Jim’s perception of the reality was consistent. His mindset was consistently locked in the world of profit and loss statements, dull numbers, and endless money-making. He was unable to grasp any diversion from the linear buying-cheap-selling-high approach.-

If you hate chaos, why are you still with me?

 – I like you, Vixen. I can be your sugar daddy, all I ask is your consistency, – He obviously loved what he called “craziness” and “psychosis”, – you need therapy and medication.

 – My therapist told me what you did to me when we met is rape.

 – Change your therapist, she is an idiot.

He was insistent on my mental diagnosis and on my inability to survive without his pervasive interference in my life.  – I am the most normal person you have ever met, Vixen. You have no idea how lucky you are that I am around. You are a very poor judge of character; people that you choose are really weird.

 – I know. – With time, I learned how to deal with my mind games; I knew that my mind gets me down throwing me into deadly hopelessness every Monday morning, every weekend without Greg, every failed job interview, every time my expectations do not match the reality.

The mind could spin relentlessly, sinking me in despair. I knew when panic attacks will return, I knew exactly what they will be about. I knew the first signs of mania, I knew when and how I will be kicked out of euphoria straight into the gloom and doom of the depressive episode.

At first, I was searching for the triggers to catch, to prevent, to cope, then I got bored and stopped wasting my time on digging into the crap of childhood traumas and heart-breaking love stories. I got tired of reacting to endless mind dramas, the mind repertoire was limited, dull, and nauseously primitive. I just kept doing what needed to be done without reacting to the hysteria of the tiny tape-recorder in my head.

I knew I was cuckoo, I did not care.

Jim was cuckoo too, he was stuck in solely one reality that his mind kept creating for him throughout his life. Fixated on success, unable to share, and mercilessly using others, he continued suffering every time his obsession with power and control broke against common sense. He kept picking up the tiny pieces of his illusions of strength and dominance, trying to clue them together and resume control, repeating the same break-and-repair insanity cycle over and over again.

 – Vixen, how many personalities do you have? I counted at least six.   

 – Millions or billions, whatever the mind creates, but I do not bother….

 – Why? – dark eyes, black hair, and Italian background, he was hot and charismatic, at least this is how my mind wanted me to perceive him.

 – I do not care because I do not exist, you do not exist either. And it really does not matter what the mind will want us to see and to feel as long as we use the mind as a tool, and we do not allow it to use us instead.


kinky, life, love

Labeling, Stereotyping, Stigma


– Vixen, I am so glad you dumped Jim, – Dave looked comfy and concerned, white and soft sweatshirt, bleached smile, and smell of quality perfume. – Wealthy guys are screwed up, your Jim has serious mental health issues.

I was in the middle of cutting my veggies for a green smoothie. His words caught me off guard, I froze with a kitchen knife in my hand staring stupidly at a cucumber on the cutting board.  I was offended. I hated and loved Jim at the same time; he used to be part of my life. Dave was nothing, just a nicely smelling dandy in Gucci outfit who tried to stick his nose where it does not belong.

What about yourself?  – I breathed out and proceeded chopping the cucumber.

 – What about me, honey?

 – You are wealthy.

 – I am not one of the freaks you used to be with, I value my soul over money. I would rather be in a forest than the Ritz Carlton. I have always been like this.

 – Who told you Jim uses Ritz?

 – Are you defending him?

 – I am not discussing him with you.

 – Why? I thought you trust me.

 – Dave, please…. Mind your own business

He had a fancy blender, perfect for smoothies and veggie soups. I took the lid off ready to put the cucumber in and felt Dave with my back.

 – You are in my house, and you are teaching me how to behave, – his voice got suddenly low and ice-cold. I shrugged my shoulders not bothering to turn around.

 – You gotta understand Vixen, I will do anything to please you, but you should be respectful and open.

 – Ok, – I reached for a tomato, he was still standing behind. “His blender is big and multi-functional, I want it, maybe I should ask him to give it to me… ”. The thought was kinda weird given that Dave seemed to be quite disappointed. Asking him was for anything at this point would be a waste of time.

 – I am talking to you, Vixen. Stop cutting your rabbit food and look at me.

I slowly turned, my irritation was growing. He gave my food a weird name. Jim loved my vegan dishes and always supported the idea to write a recipe book.  Dave made fun of all my efforts to make money. He considered me way too immature for it.

What do you want from me, Dave?  – he was too close, his perfume was too strong, chokingly strong. I felt sick to my stomach.

 – Your Jim wanted you to kiss his feet. It is sick.

 – It is hot. I am a sub, I loved it.

 – It is sick. You are sick too, Vixen. You need therapy, I will take care of it.

 – It is kinky, our kinks matched, the only thing that kept us together for a while. It is over now. Let’s change the subject.

 – You need help.

 – May I finish fixing my rabbit food?

 – Of course, – he stepped away, I added the rest of veggies into the cup and turned the blender on.

My hysterical reaction seemed to make him realize that not all my boundaries can be violated. He was too judgmental and too stuck in his perceptions of the reality. He divided this world into black and white and frowned at any other colors. He called me later, apologetic and regretful that I left too early. But I needed to leave, I needed my personal space to deal with his judgmental attitudes and condescending demeanor.

I came home with his blender that day.

happiness, life, love

We Deserve Our Problems


– You deserve the ones you attract into your life, Vixen.

Tuesday coffee-break with Carla, water for me, decaffeinated latte for her. She was in a hurry as usually, 30 minutes prior another court case, chic black-rim glasses, pencil skirt, and merciless intelligence.

 – Actually, you are right, – I stopped sipping water through the straw and quickly adjusted the dress strap.

 – I am always right about you Vixen, you are very easy to read, very predictable, a perfect target for jerks like your Jim or hm… what was the name of your crazy surgeon again?

 – Greg, his name is Greg, – a hot flush covered me from head to toe as I said his name. Smile on my face and dizziness in my head, madly in love, irrationally obsessive

 – Yeah, they are pretty much reflections of what you think you deserve. They use you and throw you away after. And you are ok with it. What is wrong with you?

– I have no answer, my dear, – my glance fell on her coffee cup stained with the red lipstick. She was getting ready to leave, nervously searching for the car key in her purse.

This was one of few times I entirely agreed with Carla. We do deserve what we have, we build our reality based on what we allow ourselves to do in this life. We allow ourselves to be sick, miserable, healthy, or happy. We allow to open up to new opportunities and people or to close all doors and live blindly putting “good” or “bad” labels on ourselves and others.

Jim was the reflection of my desire to be with someone in power, someone to submit to entirely allowing him to resolve my problems. Once I realized that no one can help me fix myself but me, I lost interest in his obsessiveness and stopped reacting to his endless “you are insane, completely insane, all you care is my money and my penis”. With Greg it was different, he threw me into the roller-coaster of orgasms and pain, I loved the feeling and was not ready to deserve a better person.

Carla was quiet as we were leaving the coffee shop. She seemed to be disappointed.   I gave her a hug and wished her a nice day, she smiled back.  – Think about my words Vixen, you attract your own trouble.

 – You are a lawyer, not a psychoanalyst, – I was not in the mood to open up to her, she would not understand anyways.

 – I care.

– I know.

I watched her heading to the courthouse and went to the park to feed the ducks.

happiness, life, love

Anxiety versus Happiness.


Our mind – a compilation of phobias and fears, resentments and grudges, frustrations and anger.

Who ever gave us this tool, did not clarify how to efficiently silence it or use it if needed. And we identify ourselves with the mind, live under the diktat of past issues, and put labels on ourselves and on others. We do not live in the reality. All we see is gloom and doom of the past traumas in the present. We voluntarily perceive this world through the skewed glasses and fiercely resist to take them off. Pain of the past experiences is very familiar; the uncertainty of the present is scary. Choosing our inner demons over questioning the rationality of our fears is safe. We get too adjusted to mental injuries and sufferings, and do not want to leave them behind. If we lock our past in the closet, the reality will seem suspiciously quiet and unusually calm. We are not used to it. We get panicky expecting the storm to hit us right after the silence. We hurriedly put our skewed glasses back on feeling relieved that the uncertainly is gone, and our life is filled with familiar anxiety and depression again.

Familiar sufferings are better that unusual calmness.

The mind keeps demanding the solution to the problem. Turning the mind off means relinquishing the grip of the problem; we let the problem resolve itself. We go with the flow and live accepting our issues as illusory as everything else created by our mind. We do not follow the mind games, we just observe the panic it keeps creating. We see the problems as circles on the water, knowing that they will be gone, and we will submerge in the serenity again until the mind creates another issue to worry about. Resolving the present through the past experiences will give us the same old panic. The problem will resolve itself opening doors to a wider world, untarnished by past traumas and resentments.

Insanity means using same old thoughts and actions expecting new outcomes. Staying calm, accepting the uncertainty of our life, letting the demons in our mind pass is the key to true happiness.

 – I have no idea what you are talking about, Vixen, Greg was skeptical, stuck in his rigidly surgical world of cutting and medicating.

I gave him a hug and smiled. I loved him and learned to accept his insanity, his wife, endless mistresses, and pathological greediness. Intimacy with him balanced me out, I lived at the moment, I felt happy.