Kinkstar Sin's blog: "Sin's Domain"

This was written probably nine months ago, i typed it out once and lost it. i was living with mom already for a couple months by then. i read through it because the beginning was what i felt, i'm typing it because the rest reminded me that i don't always feel this way, figured i'd post it this time. (******** and @@@@@ used because i'm still not telling you all my name - even if you guess it)

i am frustrated, irritated, annoyed. i am sad, depressed, vacant. i am scared, hopeless, and overwhelmed. mom keeps blaming me for everything. she takes no responsibility for her situation. i am the "instigator," the scapegoat, i am the "root of all that is undesirable" in her kingdom.

i try to help the kids. i keep them focused when it is time for them to do homework and chores. i listen when they are frustrasted, upset, angry. i try to mediate when they can't deal with mom.

i am quick-tempered. i am alone. i am trapped by my fears, my emotions, my protective instincts, my financial situation. there may as well be iron bars on the doors and windows, i would be no less able to escape.

i am mom's disappointment. i am her burden. i am no longer her daughter, only an afterthought. something to be dealt with when she feels a need to control something since her own life is out of reach.

i am *******'s soulless body. i am her black-hole heart. i am her dark essence. i am all that is painful, destructive, vile.

i lash out to keep from crying. sometimes i cry afterwards. sometimes i cannot cry.

i am self-aware but i do not have self control. i am *******'s fragmented mind. i want to be done. i am tired of trying medications. i am tired of trying and not only getting nowhere, but being pushed back down.

i am *******'s lack of hope, of faith, of self-worth. i am the one that extinguishes the light at the end of her tunnels. i am her self-loathing, her disappointment, her archenemy. i am the black hole that eats her life force, and her will to live.

i think i watched fight club too recently. "I am Jack's spleen."

society frowns on people who are openly sexual. they - as a whole - have less respect for strippers, prostitutes, et cetera. i used to go on my webcam, broadcasting nude, performing sexual acts, at times getting paid for it. the men and women watching, whether my broadcast was sexual in nature or simply nude with conversations about life (relationships, jobs, families, finances), they showed me more respect than i receive from my mother. i cannot respect one that continually shows me disrespect. I am *******'s self respect. i am Sin. i am the trick candle at the end of the tunnel that keeps relighting. 

i am sin. i am a good listener. i am a good problem solver. i am a driving force for others, but never myself.

mom says i am selfish, self-centered. i think those terms carry a connotation of greed. greed for attention. i am not looking to receive, but if i try to avoid something i see as negative, that is how she refers to me. i am *******'s desire to feel emotionally safe.

i am Sinamyn Lee. or just sin. i am *******'s sense of self, her separation from familial control. i am her ability to enjoy life. i write her poetry. i express her emotions in a safe manner, and her sexuality. i am her logic, her empowered sense of self. i am her safe-haven, her escape and her "rock." i am her stability. i am fading in this environment.

i am her social planner and the one who executes those plans. i am the one who has fun, who dances, who sings. i am sin. uninhibited. alive. i live the life that ******* barely survives. i am the self confidence that attracts people. i am the empathic soul that attracts trust. i am the vinyl, the whore red lipstick. i am the one who redefines *******'s sense of beauty and her ability to portray it.

i am sin. i am creative, i am an extrovert, exhibitionist, both sexually and masochistically.

i am ******* again, and i am tired. i am alone in a room full of people. the sound is overwhelming, frightening. i try to block it out, withdrawing into myself. i focus on familiar things, a neckace i am wearing, a memory of a comforting voice. i am lost when i am alone. i cannot find my way back to anywhere i feel safe.

i become @@@@@. i talk to my bear. he comforts me. i cry, and ask him what i'm supposed to do. i am *******'s regression. i talk as a child, act as one. i try to simplify my surroundings by behaving as though i understand only what a small child would, and opening my imagination to fill in the spaces that should be filled by more "involved" or "mature" reality.

i am @@@@@. i am *******'s inability to accept logic or emotion more than sadness or contentment. i am also her unconditional love. i am her utopian ideal.

i am almost never more than one at a time. unfortunately i will switch without warning, most times without an easily identified trigger. i am always aware of which i am. i am always aware of the other pieces of me. i don't know how to consciously change them, nor combine them. i am *******, i am sin, i am @@@@@.

it's five am. the sun will come up soon. i will go to sleep.

so that's all there was to it. i figured i'd share. i have no shared. i'm now going to crawl back into my shell.

~sin