Tighter. Please. Keep my mind still. Help my mind stay in this body. I pray to anyone who will listen. Winding, twisting, knotting, allowing myself to be tied into place. Tying the knots so tight my mind will not stray away from me. Wrapped in red cottons, black hemp and Costco rope. All in attempts to wrangle my mind to calm. So that I am present for my own worship. A safe, consensual, kink that encourages risks, evokes healing, and for me, demands presence.

With my diagnosis of Bipolar II Disorder, there are definitely times I feel my brain doesn’t belong to me. I find that choosing to take medication, attending culturally relevant forms of healing, therapy, getting outta bed in the morning, eating, showering, (the list goes on and on), are all conscious efforts I make each day – many of which folks take for granted. So for this queer, intelligent, witty, neurodivergent, Brown cutie, feeling “better” is so hard to do that at this point, I’ll try anything that I haven’t already.

Do I sound fed up to you? Because I am. I constantly feel like I’m convincing my mind to stay with me and be kind. Trying to remember what it’s like to feel beautiful through the haze that is often my mind requires so much patience with myself.  So when I allow myself into submission, I’m letting go completely of the vain desires to be in control. I’m clearing away the static sounds of chaos inside my head, an image I liken to tons of sand falling inside my head, causing so much discomfort in my skin, making me feel like my purest thoughts of joy, bliss, roaring laughter, rivers of healing tears and orgasms are being suffocated away.

 

Read the Full Article:

Why BDSM is a Healing Practice for My Mental Health by Hablo Rodriguez-Williams 

November 20, 2018