By Kendra Holliday | July 29, 2018
Years ago, I made it a point to post five blog entries a week.
Nowadays, I’m more prone to moving old posts to the top of the home page whenever the topic is requested or relevant. It’s pretty easy to do, since I have over 600 posts – some of them I forgot I even wrote!
But I keep wanting to write about new experiences – sharing is helpful for others, and it’s therapeutic for me. Life keeps zipping along in a blur! I still want to write about the medical-themed play party I hosted in March! It was such a mindfuck.
Here are some other topics on my list:
Wheel of Consent Training – shamans, witches, empaths, consent and power of touch, fruit, symbolism
The Pull of the Moon
Under Attack – SESTA FOSTA
It’s You. It’s Me.
Love, Sweat and Tears menopause documentary review
Recap of Tantra workshop
Reveling in my latest threesomes
Updates on my daughter, parents, struggle with booze
Last month, I gave a talk at The Ethical Society on Desire (they will post a recording of it online soon). The very next day, Huffington Post published an interview with me about the work I do, and it generated a LOT of interest! And then this morning, I presented a workshop on sex and disabilities at the AASECT Summer Institute at Washington University.
In between all of that, I’ve been seeing clients, some local, some from out of state. Every week is different, with its own set of challenges and rewards.
Oh, and one more thing – I’ve been experiencing psychotic episodes.
I’ve touched on this before – the past couple years have been intense with a shift in my hormones. It’s like I’m going through puberty again. I’m very sensitive, and when I get too stressed or overwhelmed, I have a breakdown. I lose touch with reality.
This has happened about six times in the past 18 months. I go from cranky and irritable to a full-blown maelstrom of emotions – all I can do is hang on and ride it out. It’s better to lean into it than to fight it.
When I’m in these states, I can’t function. I can’t drive. I can’t reply to emails. All the trees I see come alive – by that I mean they are more like beings than objects. They wave to me. I smell weird things, like sulfur, brimstone and decay. I get manic at first, and then cry and rage – I pace back and forth, like I’m in labor. I get overwhelmed by this intangible suffering that is painfully beautiful. I listen to music obsessively and see symbolism in everything – fire is male energy, water is female energy. I quell my fiery heat with cool showers and baths.
Thankfully, I have a support team in place, and they help take care of me with love and compassion. They don’t question the process. The whole thing lasts about 2-3 days, and then I wake up feeling limp and calm – like a terrible storm has passed. I gently recover and move on. I’m back to normal, cheerful and productive and brilliant.
Rinse and repeat.
So, what the fuck is this? Severe menopause symptoms? Bipolar disorder? Ancestral trauma?
I wonder if I’m responding to all the chaos around me. I’m very sensitive, and I have a calling. I love what I do, but maybe all the pain and male energy I soak up from others builds up until it finally becomes too much, and I have to work it all out. I become pregnant with grief. I spend a lot of intimate emotional and physical time with people.
Not only am I bearing witness to their deepest, darkest secrets, but I’m doing so while physically holding them and allowing them inside my body. My pussy is a vessel. When I am with someone, I am fully present. I do not detach. We are naked. Our souls touch.
I embrace my role as passion midwife. It is a special gift. Sex is my portal to creation. The etymology of the word witch = power, skill, wisdom.
Just pondering all this extraordinary stuff – I find it fascinating, and think there is so much that we don’t understand.