I don’t know how many times that I’ve recently told a new s-type or even a new D-type that aftercare is an important part of a scene. Some people may not need it at all, but it’s still important to ask. It’s not something that you want falling on your head after a wonderful scene… or especially after a shitty one.
I played a lot this weekend. It was actually the first time that I’ve played in quite a while. It was definitely the first time I’ve played to that extent. I’ve scened in ways that others in our group have not. Our local group is fairly new and still growing in numbers and experience. I want our members to have every opportunity available. I want everyone to learn and grow because that’s why they’re coming here.
During the time that I haven’t been playing, I’ve been focusing on telling the people in the group I help run what I wish I would have known. With every friend that I’ve made and with any amount of my advice that they’ve taken, I’ve secured that as a notch in my own brain. I’m beating it into my own head as well.
Know what you want.
I know what I want.
Don’t be afraid to speak up.
I’m not afraid to speak up.
Somewhere in there, in telling everyone what they could do, what they had the right to do – I lost myself for a minute. One of the last things that I had discovered about myself before I took a break from playing was discovering the need I have when it comes to my own aftercare. I spent a good amount of time with that fucking aftercare battle. Through trial and error, that was the only thing missing and the only thing that worked when I got it. Unfortunately, I never asked for it, but I learned that I needed the fuck out of it.
My recent play has taught me a few things. One of them being – I can take a lot more pain than I thought. For some reason, I equated what I took, with what I needed. I never once mentioned my aftercare. I just kept right on going. I slipped right back into that old mentality. Hell, maybe I thought I was cured from needing aftercare! Like… if you get to a certain point and you won’t need it anymore. I think it’s much more likely that this was the first few times that I was being tested on something that I knew I needed to do… and I failed. I didn’t open up. I was a fucking stone. Stones sink.
I won’t safeword.
I don’t need anything.
….and I didn’t.
This weekend I let someone else have my aftercare. I saw it. I never spoke up. That part of me slipped right back in and I never realized it and I never questioned it. I just slowly…sank. It was something that I thought I had overcome. Obviously not, but now I know. Now I’ll fight the shell that it used to put myself in. I know better, and I believe that’s a step in the right direction, but that shitty way that it makes you feel – I can’t make that go away. I keep asking myself why …Why did I not notice, speak up, go to someone – anyone?
I hate aftercare.