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LadyChordewa's Journal


LadyChordewa's Journal

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6 entries this month
 

Coven associations.....

15:08 Oct 27 2007
Times Read: 819








I just read Stabb’s journal entry on the new thing about being associated and friends with another coven.



I have had to decline several invitations from several covens. Here is the reason why. OUR KIDS. The kids that we have sworn to protect in this realm called VR. I know how pedophiles work and I know some of the trust issues that they use to get the kids to go along with them. The Master’s and Mistress’ of the covens can tell me that my kids are safe all you want, but I am not going to put them in the situation. Think about it.



If someone approaches one of my members and makes him or her uncomfortable, even if they didn’t mean too, all hell would break loose. I would approach this someone and they would deny any wrong doing and then their Master or Mistress would get involved for labeling them….ya da ya da ya da. See where I am going with this…



On the other hand, a pedophile could use….but we are associated with you, we are all suppose to be friends, your Mistress said that we are all ok in this coven……



I see a lot of good that can come out of this, for the adult covens. I have a coven of kids. I will not call them naïve, but they are still in the trusting stage and they trust me. So, this is our decision, my assistants and I. I have nothing against any of the other covens, I am not labeling everyone a pedophile. We just have to look out for the best interest of the kids and we decided, this is for the best interest of them. Not to put them in the position where they could get hurt.



I hope people understand. I may make a private list of Masters, Mistress’s and Sire’s that I personally trust and have a close relationship to, for my kids to go to with a problem, if one of us in the coven isn’t on. These are people, that I trust. That I know I could trust with our kids. I will have to think on it, as it will be an exclusive list. Anyways, this is how I feel on the situation.

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Ball is in my court?

13:11 Oct 25 2007
Times Read: 842








I was reading Craig1459’s tough love journal entry. It’s very true that online relationships are tough due to the loss of things.



You can't hear the tone of voice in a message....



You can't see the expression in the person's face in a message....



You can’t see the hurt in the person’s eyes in a message….



You can’t see the tears in those same eyes in a message….



Caps generally indicate you are yelling…..



Silence generally means you are blocked or deleted….



Having nosey people come out of the woodwork and say hello to you for the purpose of finding out what you think of someone……is bs.



*sighs* This is why I try not to put too much into messages. If it’s important enough, I want to at least hear their voice, if not talk to them on the phone and on webcam at the same time. So, I can see the hurt in their eyes or the anger. So, I can see if they are even listening to what I say and if it is sinking in.



I recently got in a fight with two friends. They were heavy into the “he said, she said” scene. They made assumptions, listened to rumors and took exception to someone looking cross-eyed at what they still considered theirs. These two broke a promise to me. Only one apologized. Not sure the other realizes….That is what I was angry about. Not on the situation but the fact that they listened to the “he said, she said”, continued the rumors, pulled others into the situation, hurt others and blew stuff out of proportion, but they didn’t go to the person that supposively started the rumor, or that the rumor was about, as they promised me they would.



I was doing nothing but asking them to be better men and to not get drawn into the high school crap and to handle it like men and go to one another.



I had another friend’s boyfriend call my house and fight with me for 20 minutes over something I had permission to do. He was in an absolute panic about it, it seemed. He threatened me with suspension and deletion of my profile, if I didn’t listen to him. When that didn’t work, he started stating legal troubles I could have. But why? I wasn’t hurting him, I was doing something with the permission of the person that mattered. But he continued to fight with me over my actions for more than a week. Not only was I pissed but so was my boyfriend. Hence HIS rant. If you have a problem with HIS rant, don’t come running to me. Go to him. He has never blocked any of you.



The friend in the middle of this, did the same thing. One night, I was done. I wanted out of the group of friends and she agreed and was going to come with me. I found out that more than one was lying to me and had enough of the drama that they seemed to live on. I hinted at it but I wanted to go to him first, with one of the lies. Apparently she told him that I was leaving…so he left a snide remark on yahoo, or what I felt was a snide remark…and it went downhill from there. I wasn’t sending her the messages for her to do anything but to keep her informed, or to give me insight into how he might be feeling or thinking. Instead I got labeled a shit stirrer and a bad friend because during my own revelations and difficulties, I wasn’t a good friend. Ok, I can see that. THAT is why I apologized.



But she couldn’t come to me. It was the same as those boys, she had to rant it off in her journal and the multiple messages that she sent to me in all caps, but blocking me from responding to any of them. Then she states, in a journal entry, that the ball is in my court????



Why should it be? I apologized for what I felt I did wrong. If it wasn’t for the right thing, well maybe you might want to fill me in on what I SUPPOSIVELY did wrong. Here it is almost a week and I have no idea. But her journal entry basically makes it feel like she has given me a pardon and she are waiting for me to kneel before the Queen.



So, I thought about it, since the ball is in my court. I liked being your friend and I enjoyed you being mine. I’m sorry to hear that you had a Cancer scare but I’m glad that you won’t have to endure that once again. I did learn a lot from you. One of the things you taught me, don’t bother with those that bring you down, with those that can’t bother to communicate. I would like to talk with you again, but what are is the chance that you are going to get so angry again, that you won’t be able to speak to me, that you will block me, but to write out your feelings for all to see. Tell all of our mutual friends about a frustration with me, making some of our mutual friends, feel as if they have to choose sides, when you haven’t even told me why you are angry at me.



You ranting off in your journal, sending rants into my message box, but blocking me so I can’t send messages back to you, was a wonderful example of the wonderful life that I have already lived and been trying to crawl out of. Basically, unable to do anything but take the beating, until my Master calmed down and then waits for me to crawl back to them and apologize for pissing him off.



So, that is my decision. I am not that woman anymore and for that I will say Thank you. When you can talk to me as an equal and not as a submissive as it feels like in my mind, then we might be able to have a friendship. To prevent the drama, the heartache of our friends and to prevent me walking on eggshells, until I piss you off again……..Bye Bye.





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Oops forgot October.

17:21 Oct 21 2007
Times Read: 860




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Friends

17:34 Oct 16 2007
Times Read: 889






I have made some mistakes, I’m not infallible. I did my best to be the friend and this week I haven’t been. I complain that someone isn’t my friend and listen to me and I haven’t either.



So, I fucked up. This week has been hell on me and with all the emotions churned up, I made some bad mistakes, bad choices and said some things I shouldn’t have.



I’m sorry to those I hurt. I’m sorry for not being the friend that I claim to be this week.



Mary, you scared me. You scared me in the fact that you were the kind of woman that I wanted to be. That someone like you would want me as a best friend. I wondered when you would see and give up on me for being the weakling that I am. You have and we are done. All i can say is I'm sorry.

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Pedophiles and me

13:28 Oct 08 2007
Times Read: 931








I was talking with V the other night. He asked me why I hated pedophiles with more of a passion that normal. I started remembering things from my childhood and it was only then that I put them all together.



I told him of the time, I was 13 and went to my babysitters wedding. I had a bunch of college guys dancing with me, caressing me and kissing me. I didn’t realize this was a bad thing, until my father was ready to kill them.



I told him of the time, I was 14 and went to a friends house for Halloween. We went out with a bunch of the neighborhood kids, some of them as old as 23. The 23 year old took an interest in me and as we were playing hide an seek, in the forest, at midnight. He pinned me and started to caress and strip me. He covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream but one of the other guys, he was 18, heard me and knocked the guy off me. This 18 year old stuck around me the rest of the night and ended up wanting to date me and make out with me on my gf’s bedroom floor. I did because I was told I owed it to him.



I told him of the time, I was 14, working at the restaurant just down the road from my house, as a dishwasher. The cooks were young men, about 25 at the time. Every time I went into the kitchen to put pans or plates away, they would almost trip or bump into me. So, I started saying, behind you and putting my hand up. Well, one of them kept bumping into me, purposely I think. One night it was raining and I was going to have to walk the 1/8 of a mile home, when the Manager told this cook to drive me home. I was ok, until he locked the doors and drove past my house. He drove me about 20 minutes away, to his house. He brought me in, fed me some beer. Come to think of it, maybe that is why I don’t like beer. I begged him to take me home and he said not until I give him a body rub and he gives me one. I was desperate, I wanted to leave but he insisted. So, I gave him a back rub and then he turned over and took his pants off…and told me to continue the backrub. He placed his hand on mine and taught me a “special rub.” The rubbing of his privates. He then said it was my turn, when he forced me on my back and started rubbing my front. I panicked and scrambled away. He swore at me, calling me names from little tease to chicken. I kept asking him to take me home…he told me if I told anyone he would kill me. So, I lied to my parents, when I came home walking through the door at 3am. This guy continued to “drive” me home. Sometimes just taking me someplace and parking, not letting me go until I gave him the “special rub” making him cum or kissed it until he came. I started avoiding going to work and eventually I was fired. My father was livid, going to go down to get me my job back but I begged him not too. But I still couldn’t tell my parents. Not sure I ever did.



I remember standing in front of my mirror one day. I saw a 14 year old that had developed early. I had broad shoulders from being a competitive swimmer most of my youth, I was on Varsity swim team, when I was in the 8th grade. So, I had broad shoulders, a size b cup size. Small waist and hips. I remember walking down the hall in school and making the teachers turn their heads. I also remember all of the guys that did their damnest to get into my pants. One, the Varsity Captain of the Wrestling and Football teams, started dating little old me. He heard that I was easy. Yeah, we were sitting there watching TV with his parents, when he popped my cherry with his finger. It hurt but I think it surprised him more lol. He dumped me because I wouldn’t put out. Technically, I was a virgin until I was in college and lost my virginity with my husband to be. But I was considered a slut and a tease and easy for most of my high school life.



But standing in front of that mirror, I made a conscious decision that looking the way that I did, caused me too much heartache. I made a conscious decision to get fat. I remember saying bye bye to my flat stomach and my trim figure. I couldn’t handle the attention I got, just because of how I looked. This is where my overweight issues came from. I can loose weight with no trouble. I know what to do and I can do it. But when I start turning heads again, when I get comments on being sexy. When I am made to feel that people are talking to me for how I look and not the person I am….I begin eating again. I am lucky I found a guy that doesn’t care how I look and likes a little meat on my bones.



I want to loose weight, but I’m scared too. I’m scared to get that negative attention again. I know I can handle it and that it would help my self esteem problem, but it has been a driving fear of mine, it has been my existence when I decided 22 years ago to not be thin. Its hard to break that habit. Maybe someday I will. This probably explains why i'm submissive in some aspects. I wonder if this explains why I hate pedophiles?



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My Dad.

12:55 Oct 08 2007
Times Read: 934








My dad is a good man that has had a tough life. Throughout his life he has always felt like there was something wrong. He was diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder, Depression or told that there is nothing wrong with him. Growing up with him was an adventure. “Walking around on eggshells” became a real deal, as his outbursts and violence were for the strangest or the most minor things. Something as simple as me not wiping the crumbs off the counter, I would be chased through the house for. I couldn’t say I was abused, as that usually entails a long term, persistent thing. I never knew what I would do to set him off. I remember one time. We had a cabinet door, that if you didn’t shut it firmly it would open. It was a joke and so when I heard it creak open. I laughingly said, “Jesus Christ dad, (giggling) there it goes again.” He grabbed my hair and bashed my head against the coffee table, knocking me senseless. My mom got upset and sent me to take MY antidepressant medicine (yeah, wonder why I needed them at 14) and to go to bed. I took them but I don’t remember going to my bedroom. I woke up in the hospital with a tube down my throat as they tried to pump out my stomach.



I was told that they found me, curled into the corner of my bedroom with a stuffed animal, saying “I’m sorry I’m a bad girl, daddy. I will be a good girl daddy”, rocking back and forth. They said it was as if I was 5, my voice was real young. My father went after me and as he came toward me, I grabbed a knife I was using earlier to cut up an apple. My brother got my father out of the room and while he was doing that my mom told me I needed my medicine to make me feel better and she gave me more of my antidepressant medicine. Most 5 year olds will do as their mother says and take the medicine, I guess I did. My brother came back to find me unconscious and my mother being so proud of herself. Until my brother told her that I had already taken my medicine and she had just overdosed me. So I woke up to a tube being shoved down my throat to pump my stomach and then a tube put up my nose, to administer the charcoal to bind with the rest of the medicine.



Well, that is just an example to “walking on eggshells.” I grew up feeling that I could never do anything right in his eyes. He loved me, I don’t doubt that. But I had to ban dad from going to my softball games because he would have me in tears, telling me everything I did wrong. I stopped going shooting, like the rifle range and trap shooting, because no matter how good I was, either by shooting at a target or destroying clay targets, it wasn’t good enough. Even til this day, I don’t go with him. Nothing like destroying clay targets and him still telling me I was doing something wrong. I am a perfectionist sometimes to an intense degree. I’m slowly learning not to be so anal retentive when it comes to things, but as V can tell you, when I took him shooting, I was beating myself up for every shot that wasn’t dead center. Training is a bitch sometimes.



Well anyways….I got a package from my father the other day. It was a book and this was the letter that was attached to it.



Jayme,



As you probably know, I have been diagnosed recently with Adult Attention Deficit Disorder (AADD).

I have recently started counseling for AADD and for being a long term caregiver to my parents.

My counselor loaned a copy of this book to me. After reading it, I can see how I have been throughout my life and how it might have affected you.

I urge you to read it. I hope it will give you insight as to what is “going on” with a person who is afflicted with AADD.

I am proud of you!



Love, Dad



I started crying. He doesn’t realize that I knew that he loved me, just other things were getting in the way. He never realized that the reason I was a major in psychology in college was to figure him out and how I am because of him. Same as my mother never realized that I became a EMT on an ambulance to help and understand her Multiple Sclerosis better. (Although now I understand it completely, as I have it now.) I knew that it was some type of disorder, it was because of how he was brought up that he treated me like that. I know his mother insisted on perfect, as I was sent to spend time with them every summer. My grandmother was a hardass about so much. I was 14 or 15 and I was 5 feet from the road, I mean there was a hill that I would have had to climb up to be up ON THE ROAD, but I was sent to bed with no supper because I broke her rules. Hell by 14 I was babysitting for other kids already, because I was so responsible. Fast Forward a billion years. I am a EMT for over 15 years and my grandfather fell. I took charge and started doing an assessment of him, while talking on the phone with 911. My grandmother got pissed at me, yelling at me that it was HER husband and she KNEW first aid too. Yeah from World War II when she was an aid….bah, only 70 years ago.



Him realizing what he did to me over the years, means a lot. I never held it against him, because it was how he was “trained” growing up and because he probably had ADD all his life. He just thought he was crazy.



Plain and simple, I became the good woman and caring woman I am because of my upbringing Dad. Despite the upbringing, I know I was loved and cared for. I know there were medical conditions responsible for how our household was run. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without that upbringing. I forgave you a long time ago but I guess I never told you because I never figured you would realized what you did. But I forgive you Dad, I love you.





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