anxiety

A Vibrator for Meditation?! Well, Sort Of…

Kate Sloan

It’s not often that I’m offered a vibrating object which isn’t designed to be put on your genitals – so I was intrigued when I received a press release about the Sensate.

 

What is the Sensate and what does it do?

The Sensate is a “wearable stress relief and anti-anxiety device.” It’s a small vibrating object that reminds me of the Je Joue MiMi. It comes with a lanyard, which you can attach to it and then wear like a necklace, to keep the Sensate in the right spot on your sternum while you’re using it.

Okay, but what does the Sensate actually do? It connects via Bluetooth to an iOS/Android app, which contains a selection of ambient audio tracks for meditation. Each one of those tracks has its own corresponding vibration patterns, so that the vibrations you feel on your chest are perfectly in sync with the music or sounds you’re hearing.

This could be plenty relaxing on its own, but the Sensate’s vibration actually serves a specific purpose beyond just feeling good (which it does): to “tone the vagus nerve.” If you’re unfamiliar, the vagus nerve is the longest nerve in the human autonomic nervous system. It plays a role in many critical aspects of health, including heart rate, breathing rate, and digestion. It also helps us cope with stress, by regulating our fight-or-flight responses and helping us soothe ourselves back into a relaxed state when we get stressed out.

Supposedly, the vibrations meted out by the Sensate help the vagus nerve to relax, evoking a feeling of safety and calm. The makers of the Sensate say that over time, this process gets easier and easier as your vagus nerve gets more toned, so that you develop greater resilience in the face of stress.

(I should note here that while I minored in psychology in school, and have done extensive self-education on trauma and the nervous system, I’m not a medical expert at all and don’t have the knowledge or experience to directly confirm whether this science is legit. But everything I’ve written here is, to the best of my knowledge, true.)

 

How well does it work?

I’ve recently been learning about mindfulness and meditation for pain reduction, through a program offered by my local chronic pain clinic, so I was excited to get to test a device that’s specifically for meditation. I have to say, usually I struggle to make time for meditation because it just seems so boring compared to, I dunno, doomscrolling Twitter or playing Pokémon games… but since getting the Sensate, I’ve been much more enthused about it. There’s something about having a cool little device that makes the whole practice feel more fun and special to me, and if that’s what it takes to motivate myself into meditating, then so be it.

I like to cocoon myself in bed, plug my headphones into my phone, slip the Sensate’s lanyard over my head, get it positioned properly, and put a blindfold on before beginning my meditation. (The blindfold helps me a lot, because otherwise I would tend to look around idly and get distracted.) There are currently 13 different tracks in the app – I hope they add more eventually – and each has a duration of either 10, 20, or 30 minutes; I like that I can choose whichever duration I’m in the mood for, but do wish there were a few 5-minute meditations too, for those really busy days.

Like most beginner meditators (and maybe most meditators in general tbh), my mind wanders a lot while I’m trying to “empty” it during a meditation session. But I find that the vibrations of the Sensate are grounding and serve as a frequent reminder that I am indeed meditating, and that I should gently return my focus to my breath (or whatever else I’ve chosen to focus on).

I gotta say, I was skeptical about the Sensate, but I always notice a significant reduction in stress and agitation after I use it. My body and brain typically feel calm, quiet, and relaxed, in a way that reminds me of the soft peace I feel after a good hard cry or a good hard spanking scene. When I try to meditate without the Sensate, often I just end up worrying about work projects I have to finish or social interactions I think I fucked up, so I often don’t feel very relaxed by the time a meditation ends; however, with the Sensate, even if I do experience anxiety or worrying during the meditation, I always feel calmer when I’m done.

The battery life is pretty good; Sensate’s website says you’ll probably need to charge it once a week if you’re using it every day. It comes with a cute little travel case, which I love, because I genuinely would bring this with me on trips, especially if I was en route to an anxiety-provoking event.

I can’t really tell you whether the Sensate has had any kind of long-term effect on my overall mood or stress level, because I’m also going through a lot of stuff right now that is affecting those things too: trauma therapy, learning about Internal Family Systems, a fucking global pandemic, and so on. But I can say that it helps me relax in the moment, helps me fall asleep, and motivates me to meditate more often.

 

But is it sexy?!?

Look, this is a sex blog, and I wrote a book about kink. Of course I gotta talk about whether this thing is sexy and/or kinky.

There is a spot on my chest, right between my boobs, that feels good to touch, in a borderline-sexual way. I always adjust the Sensate so it is placed directly on that spot, even though the instructions recommend placing it a little higher. (They also say placing it lower is fine, FYI.) This makes it a more sensual experience for me and is probably a big part of why I feel more motivated to meditate since getting this device 😂

If you’re into erotic hypnosis, or have another kink that involves fetishizing relaxation, sleepiness, or spaceyness, I’m sure you could find some inventive ways to use the Sensate in scenes. For instance, I think it would be hot if my partner put me in trance, put my Sensate + headphones + blindfold on me, started a 30-minute track, and performed cunnilingus on my sleepy, spacey body. (Um, they’re gonna read this post aloud to me later like they always do, and I just know they’re gonna make some kind of pervy comment right here that’ll make me blush…)

I have considered the idea of placing the Sensate on my genitals during a meditation, but I just don’t know that it’d be all that fun. The vibrations aren’t toooo buzzy but they certainly aren’t optimized for genital pleasure. I think you’d be better off just using a regular vibrator on yourself during a Sensate session if you wanted to combine meditation with masturbation (or sex).

I tried using the Sensate during a shrooms trip once, and wished I had pre-vetted the track I chose, because it was kind of creepy and put me into a negative headspace in that state, so I abandoned ship after just a couple of minutes. I’d like to try it again with a different track sometime soon, because I’m sure it would be wild to use this thing on psychedelics.

 

Does it have any drawbacks?

The main one is that this thing costs $249. I imagine that a lot of the reason for that steep price tag is the research and development that went into creating it, which I absolutely respect; I just think it’s way out of most people’s price range for something they’ll probably use a few times a week, tops. If you’re a serious meditator, have a lot of cash to throw around, and/or have “tried everything” to relieve your stress symptoms and want to try something else, I think it’d be a decent purchase. But the average person definitely does not need this, especially since you can get the app for free and just listen to the audio tracks, sans vibration.

There’s no way to experience the relaxing vibrations of the Sensate without the usage of the accompanying app. This means that you’re shit outta luck if you don’t have an iOS or Android phone. It also means that you can’t sync up the Sensate with other audio, like your favorite songs or a voice memo of your partner saying filthy shit to you. You can use it without headphones on, thereby experiencing only the vibrations and being able to listen to whatever you want, but the inventors say (and I believe) that the relaxation effects won’t be as pronounced if you use it that way. Of course, if you’re using it for hypnokink perviness or somesuch, maybe you don’t care about that.

 

Final thoughts

If you can spare $249 and you want an inventive product that’ll help you chill out, I think you’d dig the Sensate. I’m honestly really glad I own one.

But also, you don’t need it. Maybe just try holding your vibrator against your chest while you meditate sometimes? 🤷🏻‍♀️

 

Thanks to Sensate for sending me their product to try! They didn’t pay me for this review or anything, I just think it’s a cool product and wanted to write about it.

Traveling While Chronically Ill: My Must-Haves

Kate Sloan
gotta love those flattering airport portraits

Later this week I have to get on a plane for the first time in a while, and I’m dreading it. Of course, I’m thrilled to be able to go see my spouse, especially since it’ll have been over a month since I last saw them – but the travel itself? Not my fave.

Travel tends to be hell on my chronically ill body, for so many reasons: the stress, the rushing, the cold air, the cramped seats, the waiting around, the social anxiety, the lugging of luggage… Usually by the end of a travel day I am a husk of myself, like I’ve been body-snatched by a sullen alien. Not fun!

However, in all the travel I’ve done as part of this long-distance relationship, I’ve learned how to mitigate my symptoms as best as I can, before, during, and after traveling. Here’s what works for me, incase it helps any of you too…

 

Routine

Routine is the most important thing for me in my travels. Without a routine, I fall to pieces.

My current travel routine involves making a packing list about a week in advance, packing my suitcase over the course of 1-2 days before I leave (spacing it out as needed due to fatigue and pain), checking into my flight online in advance so I don’t have to do it at the airport, and getting to the airport at least 2.5 hours before my flight takes off. If it’s possible to pre-select a seat, I choose one by the window so I don’t have to get up/move around at all once the flight takes off, and can rest/nap if I need to. (I always have my eye mask with me to block out light incase I need a quick snooze, or am just feeling overwhelmed and need to exist only inside my own head for a while.)

Part of my routine is knowing exactly where I have to go and what I have to do: my terminal, gate, flight number, seat number, etc. I’ll stash my passport and boarding pass in an outer pocket of my carry-on bag so I always know where they are and can access them quickly. Basically my goal is to pre-emptively eliminate as much stress and uncertainty as I possibly can.

 

Outfit

My go-to travel outfit is as follows:

  • A simple modal slip dress, possibly with an Aerie bralette underneath
  • Black cotton leggings
  • A cardigan over top (cotton in the summer, cashmere in the winter)
  • Cozy socks
  • Black leather boots

Traveling is such an ordeal that I always want to be as comfortable as possible, all day long. If that means having to wear a literal nightgown onto the plane (albeit dressed up with various other elements to make it look more presentable), so be it! I also hate feeling stressed and rushed in the TSA line, so I engineer my travel outfits to be easy to disassemble and reassemble as needed.

Planes are usually pretty cold, regardless of what the temperature is outside, and cold is one of my big pain triggers, so I never regret having a cardigan with me. If it’s super hot out, I might keep the cardigan in my bag until I get onto the plane, but I always bring one.

 

Luggage

Luggage cubes are transformative! They are little zippered cases that you can use to organize what you pack. I’ve found them crucial for longer stays, when I don’t want to have to rip my entire suitcase apart to find a fresh pair of underwear or a new shirt. Usually I’ll keep underwear and socks in one, T-shirts in another, and dresses in another. Not only does this make my stuff easier to find; it also helps with compressing my clothes so they take up less space and I can fit more things in my suitcase.

I used to be the type of person who could pack a small carry-on and be fine, but these days I tend to take longer trips and also just don’t have the strength to lug a suitcase around the airport with me anymore, so I always check it instead. It’s pricey – usually $50 for one bag or $80 for two – but I view it as a “disability tax” I just have to pay because my body physically cannot manage as much as an able-bodied person’s can.

Having to wait around at the baggage carousel after my flight is sometimes annoying, especially since at that point I’m usually so mentally and physically exhausted that having to wait a few extra minutes feels like an affront to my sanity, but I just try to calm myself down by playing games on my phone until the bags come out.

 

Carry-On

My go-to carry-on bag is a black leather Holiday Lane Page tote by Kate Spade. Previously it was a big turquoise leather tote by Coach. My carry-on needs to be comfortable to carry and able to hold all my stuff. It also needs to have a proper zip closure so it doesn’t spill everywhere when I stash it under the airplane seat in front of me. I use the hell out of these bags so I usually have to replace mine every 2-3 years or so (the handles inevitably start to wear through and the bag starts to lose its shape from overuse).

I usually buy some snacks (ideally granola bars or protein bars) at an airport shop once I’ve gone through security and stash them in my bag. Travel sometimes makes me feel a bit faint from all the overexertion and anxiety, and slightly sugary snacks can help. Also always a good idea to grab some gum to chew during takeoff and landing to help with ear-popping. And I always buy some water, because plane air is incredibly drying and dehydration can exacerbate anxiety and pain.

I try to bring distractions that I find joyful and uplifting, since air travel is so… not. Usually I’ll bring my Kindle stocked with good books, my iPad with some games downloaded and some Instapaper articles queued up, my phone and headphones for listening to podcasts or music, and my Nintendo Switch or 3DS for gaming. Sometimes I’ll also journal on the plane, so I gotta have my Moleskine notebook and a pen that won’t explode in the air.

 

Meds

Air travel is so exhausting, stressful, and demanding for me that I always end up experiencing a lot of body pain during and after travel, so sometimes I’ll pre-empt it by taking a painkiller (naproxen) before leaving for the airport or getting onto the plane. It takes the edge off, at least. I’ll also make sure to take my iron supplement on a travel day because otherwise I run the risk of feeling anaemic and maybe even fainting.

My doctor prescribed me an anxiety medication, Ativan, which I only ever use in emergencies because it’s habit-forming. Usually I keep some in my bag when I travel, because I know from experience that delays, cancellations, last-minute schedule changes, and other stressors can trigger an anxiety attack for me pretty easily, especially since I’ve had so many anxious experiences in airports that my body has a somewhat Pavlovian reaction to them now.

If I’m really freaked out, sometimes I’ll take a weed edible before leaving for the airport, but I wouldn’t recommend this unless 1) you know the route of your journey very well and don’t anticipate it’ll change much AND 2) you have lots of experience with this particular intoxicant and can therefore behave yourself even if you get a little loopy. (It would not be fun to be kicked off a plane for belligerent behavior à la Kristen Wiig in Bridesmaids.)

 

Arrival

These days I will almost always order an Uber to take me from the airport to wherever I’m staying, if it’s at all financially feasible. The stress of trying to find my way to a subway station or shuttle bus after the ordeal of travel is just too much for my body and brain. I’ve learned from all my experiences that immediately post-flight is a time when I’m highly likely to feel weirdly depressed out of nowhere, due to sheer exhaustion, and that’s a state in which I often feel unable to figure out public transport, especially if I’m worried I might start crying in public (it happens!).

Once I get to my destination, I need to relax. My spouse knows never to plan anything heavy-duty for the night of my arrival. Usually we’ll go out for dinner at a low-key local place. Sometimes I’ll take a hot bath with Epsom salts to de-stress my muscles. Sometimes my spouse gives me a massage, or just holds me close and says things like “You’re safe” and “You did a good job today” and “All the hard stuff is done,” to let my nervous system know that it can finally relax. I get to bed early and usually feel much better in the morning.

 

Fellow chronically ill people, what helps you when you have to travel?

Bo Burnham’s “Inside” is a Fucking Masterpiece

Kate Sloan

Content note: This post contains discussions of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts.

 

I think some of my friends think I’ve lost my mind a little bit. I keep talking about Bo Burnham lately, and I think many of the people in my life are like, “Wait. What? Isn’t that the kid from YouTube who wrote shitty songs making fun of every marginalized group under the sun? You’re into HIM now?”

Well, to be fair, I’ve unironically (though sometimes surreptitiously) loved Bo for over a decade, in part because it’s clear that a lot of his past missteps were just pointed leftist irony that viewers didn’t interpret as such, being (reasonably) hesitant to assume a cis straight white guy has good intentions. (“If you were offended by that, it was ironic,” Bo explains after performing a song called Straight White Male in his special Make Happy. “Isn’t that fun? I meant the whole opposite of it!” The tone is jokey, but like… he’s right. That is what he, and other irony-based crooners, do.) It’s fine if you don’t forgive him; you don’t have to. BUT ALSO, he has come a long way since those YouTube days. Like, a loooooooong way.

Bo’s latest Netflix special, Inside, touched me in a way that no piece of art has in a very long time. Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette came close, as did the movie Ex Machina and the Andy Shauf album The Neon Skyline. All of these works of art accessed deep wells of emotion in me through razor-sharp relatability and big themes. But I really think Inside might be my favorite piece of art I’ve consumed – in any medium – for at least the last five years. I’m not fucking kidding, y’all.

If you haven’t seen it, first of all, SEE IT, and secondly, here’s what it’s about: Bo, like many of us, found himself cooped up inside during the pandemic, socially isolated and inundated with terrible news on the internet every day. But unlike many of us, he had the technical skills and creative vision to sequester himself in a single room with a camera, a lighting setup, and a bunch of audio equipment, and create a 90-minute musical comedy special that somehow expresses a giant range of quarantine emotions and 2020 Big Moods.

Toward the beginning of Inside, Bo’s hair is beginning to get long, a beard is forming on his face, and he seems merely perplexed and thrown by the pandemic, like we all were. As the special progresses, however, his hair grows longer, his beard expands, and his mental health starts to slip. But he keeps making the special anyway. We learn, through his occasional tiny disclosures of big truths, that working on the special has become his tether to the world, the one thing keeping him semi-afloat as his mental health reaches “an ATL (all-time low).” As a creative who has, myself, used writing or music or podcasting to give me a sense of purpose and belonging when I was unable to find one any other way, this resonated so hard that I often found myself yelling “WOW” or “YIKES” or “DRAG ME, BO” at the screen.

Bo’s songwriting has levelled up IMMENSELY since his last special, Make Happy. As a music nerd, that’s one of the main things I noticed on my initial watch of Inside. He was always a highly skilled lyricist and pianist, but his songs until now have mostly stayed within a pretty small range of chord progressions and styles. In this special, he reaches almost Sondheimian levels of intricacy and beauty with his songwriting, and explores styles like hiphop, folk, and cabaret. It feels like his ability to execute a project has finally caught up with his creativity and vision, such that every song in this special functions wonderfully as an actual song, rather than just being a framing device for Bo’s clever jokes and witty observations.

I can’t possibly tell you about all my favorite parts of this special because there are frankly too many. But here are a few:

• An early song, “Healing the World with Comedy,” gets us all on the same page, in Bo’s signature half-joking-but-kinda-serious style. He establishes right off the bat that he knows comedy is simultaneously pretty useless in the face of worldwide strife and also potentially a platform through which he can effect change. As an artist who also sometimes struggles with the question of “Why the fuck am I doing this when so much awful shit is going on?” I found this one screamingly hilarious and also useful as a reminder to use my platform for good. “If you wake up in a house that’s full of smoke, don’t panic – call me and I’ll tell you a joke,” Bo offers; “If you see white men dressed in white cloaks, don’t panic – call me and I’ll tell you a joke.” It’s a chilling reminder that art can only do so much.

• There are two sort of silly-sexy jams in this special, called, respectively, “FaceTime with My Mom” and “Sexting,” which are about… exactly what they sound like they’re about. In a very classic Bo Burnham way, these songs crack you up for most of their duration and then hit you with an unexpected emotional punch – like when Bo’s mom puts his dad on the phone and they have a stilted, emotionally disconnected conversation (#relatable) or like the one frame in “Sexting” where you can read Bo’s paragraph-long textual meditation on the line between playfully begging to see someone’s nudes and pressuring them in a way that feels uncomfortable. Also, these songs are both absolute bops.

• There’s a lot of… gender… in this special?? There is, in fact, an entire song (“White Woman’s Instagram”) where Bo is essentially in drag, albeit with a beard. And, um, my gay ass can confirm that he is pulling it off. I was wondering what other people thought about this, so I typed “Bo Burnham gender” into the Twitter search bar, and there are dozens upon dozens of trans and nonbinary people tweeting that Bo gives them gender envy. Understandable, tbh.

• An extended bit in which Bo does “commentary” on one of his own songs, and then does commentary on his commentary, is a brilliant depiction of the self-criticism and self-policing that can come with depression and anxiety. He does something similar in another section where he takes on the role of a hyper-masc Twitch streamer playing a video game that is actually just Bo’s own life: sit in a room, cry, play piano, go to sleep, start the day over again. Both of these bits crystallize an overarching theme of dissociation, derealization, depersonalization, and the way that the internet encourages us to view ourselves and our lives through an externalized lens.

• One of the prettiest songs in the special laments, “Can one be funny when stuck in a room?” In reflecting on his own past tendencies to self-isolate as a protective mechanism, Bo sings, “Well, well! Look who’s inside again! Went out to look for a reason to hide again,” at which point I felt like someone had stabbed me through the heart because DAMN, @ ME NEXT TIME, BO.

• Speaking of Bo’s (numerous) past fuck-ups, there is a song toward the middle of the special where Bo fully, explicitly, and sensitively apologizes for the problematic jokes he built his fame on. “Are you gonna hold me accountable?” he dares, almost begs. In classic Bo fashion, the song is simultaneously self-reflective and hilarious. It’s filmed as an athletic scene reminiscent of a Rocky training montage, which contributes to the overall image of masochistic self-flagellation and doing penance for past mistakes. I kept screaming at the screen “I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S DOING THIS” at this point, because it really is that rare to see someone of Bo’s demographic owning up to what they’ve done. “Bitch, I’m trying to listen; shit, I’ve been complacent,” he sings toward the end. “If I wanna catch up, first I gotta ‘fess up.” Too true.

• Bo’s really bummed about turning 30 during the making of the special because he thought he’d be done with the special, and ideally with the pandemic, by then. Again… relatable as fuck. Then he sings a song about turning 30 which is a beautiful meditation on aging, feeling “out of touch,” resenting others who are “adulting” better than you are, and just generally mourning the passage of time. He does his own light show during this song, pressing pedals and rotating a handheld light around his nearly-naked body, orchestrating his own vulnerable self-exposure. (There is also a whole lotta bisexual lighting and genderless hotness in this song, tbh.)

• The catchiest song from the whole special, in my opinion, is a Lizzo-esque hiphop/pop tune that begins thusly: “Wake up at 11:30, feeling like a bag of shit. All my clothes are dirty, so I’m smelling like a bag of shit.” It goes on to paint a perfect picture of not only depression (which many other artists have tackled) but the specific brand of dark, self-effacing humor that can emerge out of a bad depressive spell. It’s not the most thematically complex song, especially compared to some of the others in this special, but it’s the one I find myself singing the most, and laughing at so hard that my depressed body shakes. (I’m listening to it right now as I write this, and dancing in my chair.) There is also just something about seeing a person perform a slick, upbeat song with perfect lighting choreography… while wearing a white T-shirt and baggy shorts. You get me, Bo.

• Probably the objectively best song in the special is “Welcome to the Internet,” an absolutely chilling and devastating takedown of the internet and the ways it corrupts our minds. After I watched this for the first time with my spouse, they observed, “I think that’s the best thing that’s ever been written about the internet,” and I had to agree. That’s high praise, friends.

• A low-key folk song toward the end of the special grapples with existential dread, climate change anxiety, and dissociation in the internet age. It’s the prettiest Bo’s voice has ever sounded, and perhaps the most sensitive and sincere he’s ever been. “There it is again,” he croons sweetly, sadly, “that funny feeling.” He never names exactly what “that funny feeling” is, but by the end of the song, I always feel like, Yep. I know that feeling. I know it well.

 

Overall, I simply cannot recommend this special enough for anyone who struggles with mental health, their relationship to the internet, the weirdness of being a public figure, and/or mounting dread about the state of humanity. It’s a “comedy special,” sure. It’s also a fucking masterpiece that depicts, better than anything I’ve ever seen or heard, what it’s like to be a certain type of human in this terrifying time. It’s given me comfort, solace, and laughs – if just because it showed me that I’m not the only one feeling “that funny feeling.” Not at all.

In Praise of the Humble Blindfold

Kate Sloan

Blindfolds are so versatile. I never regret bringing one with me while I travel, even if by “travel” I just mean “take the subway across the city for a sex-date.” Of all the products you can buy at a sex shop, I think blindfolds are right up there with lube in the category of “low price, high impact.”

The three uses of blindfolds that I enjoy most often are sleep, sensory deprivation, and anxiety reduction – let’s talk about ’em.

 

Sleep

For the past couple of months, I’ve been waking up refreshed when my alarm goes off at 9 a.m., and rarely wanting to go back to sleep. This may not sound like a huge deal, but for me it is. I’ve been a chronically sleepy person my entire life, as a side effect of depression, especially seasonal depression. Hell, even when I was in elementary school and had no diagnosed mental illnesses, sometimes teachers would tell my mom and dad in parent-teacher meetings that they worried I wasn’t getting enough sleep at home because I kept dozing off in class. Oops. (Look, I can’t help it that hearing someone read aloud from a novel in French is incredibly soothing… or that fractions are incredibly boring.)

So what’s changed? Why are my mornings suddenly energetic even sans coffee? I attribute this shift to my sleep mask. I’ve worn eye masks to bed sporadically over the years, but usually they didn’t fit right, or didn’t block out light very effectively, or were so uncomfortable that I would take them off in the middle of the night while half-asleep. It wasn’t until I bought this one – which is made of dark-colored, silky satin, padded for comfort, with a nose cut-out that works for my big schnoz – that I would go to sleep wearing a mask and wake up with it still positioned correctly on my face. So I started experiencing the benefits of sleeping with an eye mask on: deeper and more restful sleep, less insomnia, and fewer instances of waking up through the night. Truly astonishing.

If you have sleep troubles and haven’t yet tried an eye mask – or haven’t yet tried one that fits you properly and blocks out all the light within your field of vision – then I would highly recommend it. It’s maybe the best $12 I ever spent.

 

Sensory deprivation

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that wearing a blindfold during sex can be hot; Cosmopolitan and Fifty Shades have done a good enough job of that already, their various flaws notwithstanding. But it’s often depicted as a novelty, a way to “spice things up,” while for me it’s a regular enough part of my sex life that I’d consider it a staple. Want to have sex like Kate Sloan does?! Get yourself an Eroscillator, an Eleven, and a blindfold. (Oh, and turn on a playlist filled with cheesy R&B and slow-roiling jazz.)

It’s true what they say about how reducing or eliminating one sense can turn up the sensitivity of the others. (Just listen to this recent Off the Cuffs interview with a blind dominatrix if you don’t believe me. God, she’s amazing.) When I’m wearing a blindfold, my nerve endings feel primed for all sensations, my ears perk up, and smells and tastes are more vivid and more erotic.

Blindfolds can also help reinforce a power dynamic, if you’re into that. Sight is, of course, one of the primary tools I use to guide myself through the world, assess situations, and make decisions – and when it’s removed, I’m stripped of most of my usual ways of processing information and figuring out what to do next. In a sexual context, this means that a blindfold can make me feel instantly powerless, even in the absence of other classic submissive props like cuffs or a ballgag. This is also one of the reasons they’re a must-have in the toolkit of any burgeoning or nervous dom – depending on how your sub reacts to them, they can bolster the power dynamic you’re trying to create, and may thereby bolster your confidence as a dominant.

 

Anxiety reduction

I’m no psychology researcher, so I can’t tell you how far-reaching this effect is – but blindfolds are massively helpful for me for treating mid-sex anxiety. Am I feeling shy and embarrassed? Put a blindfold on me. Hating my body that day? Put a blindfold on me. Distracted by the “New Message From Mom” notifications that keep popping up on my phone screen? Put a blindfold on me. (And also put that phone on Do Not Disturb!)

Blindfolds take a lot of pressure off, because you can’t reasonably be expected to do much of anything when you have one on. A blowjob is probably the most dexterous thing I ever do while blindfolded; anything more challenging would be nearly impossible. In this way, wearing a blindfold helps me relax into pleasure, or submission, or just being in the moment.

Blindfolds are also, as I’ve mentioned, potentially helpful for dominants who put ’em on their submissives. Part of my nervousness around taking the reins in bed is related to how I look while I’m doing it; I’ve never felt like a picture-perfect femdom, not least of which because I’m more likely wearing sweaty pajamas than leather and lace. But as soon as I blindfold my partner, I can take control without needing to worry about how I look – including how I look when I accidentally drop the flogger between the bed and the wall, or squirt myself in the face with lube. Whoops.

 

How have blindfolds improved your life, sexually or otherwise?

The 10 Best Things I’ve Ever Done For My Mental Health

Kate Sloan

When I got my first mental illness diagnosis in high school (seasonal affective disorder), I was bewildered. Up until then I had thought of myself as an eminently sane person, always sharp and on top of things. I’ve learned so much in the years since – not least of which, that mentally ill people can still be incredibly sharp and on top of things!

While I got that first diagnosis nearly a decade and a half ago, I haven’t always been great at managing my symptoms or processing my feelings. It’s been a slow learning process, and I still have a lot of work to do. But incase this is helpful info for any of you, here are the 10 biggest things I’ve done to improve my sense of mental and emotional balance and calm. A lot of these things are immensely complicated, though they may sound simple – but regardless, I’m glad to have done every single one of them.

Went on meds. This is an obvious one but it’s one you should at least consider if you’ve never tried it. For a long time I avoided asking my doctors about depression medication because I thought my low moods were mostly circumstantial, not neurochemical – but I eventually learned that depression easily masquerades as a simple reaction to shitty circumstances in your life. I went on sertraline (generic Zoloft) for a short period, but the sexual side effects (for me: genital numbness and inability to orgasm) were a dealbreaker. Years later, I went on bupropion (Wellbutrin), one of the only depression meds not known to cause sexual side effects. I’ve been on it for over a year now, and while I definitely still have my depressed days, overall my mood is markedly better.

Got a SAD lamp. Well, more accurately, my parents got me a SAD lamp – in 2007. Remarkably, it still works today even though I’ve never replaced the lightbulbs?! Well-played, Day-Light. This useful gadget shines bright, specially-toned light in your face, and is known to alleviate depression for some people, especially those with seasonal affective disorder. When I’m feeling lethargic and gloomy, I’ll often sit at my desk and read, write, or watch something on my computer while the lamp is on. About 30-45 minutes of daily lamp time does wonders for my mood and energy levels.

Moved out of an unhealthy living environment… and into a room with a much bigger window. A twofer! My last roommate, for reasons partly under her control, regularly aggravated my mental and physical health problems with her habits and behaviors. Maybe other people could live with her, but I sure couldn’t, so I got out of there and moved in with a friend – and I’ve felt much calmer, happier, and healthier since then. It helps that almost one entire wall of my current room is taken up by a ginormous window, since – as we’ve discussed – my depression is very responsive to light or lack thereof.

Started using marijuana medicinally. I mean, I use it recreationally too. But becoming aware of its potential therapeutic benefits for my particular body and brain was a game-changer. High-CBD strains are great when my anxiety throws me off the rails, while more THC-centric strains enable me to rediscover joy, laughter, and pleasure when I’m so depressed that these things feel inaccessible. Weed also helps enormously with my chronic pain – so, while I can’t really use it when I’m working and need to stay sharp, on many difficult days it helps me push through my physical and emotional symptoms so I can function and get stuff done.

Learned CBT techniques in therapy. I’ve been to several different therapists and most of them weren’t that helpful to me, honestly. I never found it terribly useful to talk through my day-to-day trials and tribulations with someone who lacked the proper context and knowledge to really help me (e.g. a familiarity with polyamory or kink). Cognitive-behavioral therapy, on the other hand, involves “homework” – assignments, whether written down or more experiential, that help you practice cognitive strategies for improving your moods and your life. Not everyone finds CBT beneficial, largely because it presupposes that your mental discomfort is at least partly the result of errors in thinking, rather than having a neurochemical basis. But errors in thinking do contribute to my depression and anxiety, and correcting those errors using CBT is often markedly helpful for me.

Codified my coping strategies. By which I mean: wrote them down in many places where I’ll see them every day, and eventually memorized some of them such that they will usually come to mind as plausible options even when I’m too depressed to think. This might sound small and obvious, but it’s not – my depressed brain is very bad at knowing how to even take small steps toward improving how I feel, so it’s important that I keep practicing and reminding myself of the coping strategies that work, in any way I can.

Subscribed to several podcasts I love. Podcasts are one of the first distractions I turn to when I need to take my mind off my emotional malaise. They pull me out of my own brain and absorb me with their stories and jokes. Whether I’m listening to a comedy advice show hosted by genial brothers, a sharp play-by-play of a famous historical incident, or a roast of a terrible movie, podcasts make me feel less alone, and less wrapped up in my own problems.

Strengthened my journaling habit. I’ve always journaled, but since developing mental health conditions, I’ve started to view this practice as less optional and more necessary. Emotional processing is immensely valuable, and I also like being able to look back at old journal entries and see that the things I was so scared about, or depressed by, rarely turned out to be as bad as they seemed. That knowledge and perspective gives me strength I would otherwise find hard to access.

Committed to daily to-do lists. Alexandra Franzen calls hers a checklist; call yours whatever you want! All I know is that before I started keeping a to-do list every weekday – which, incidentally, my dominant has access to – I was much more scattered than I am now. I had less of a sense of what needed to get done, and accordingly, less of a sense of how much I’d truly achieved by the end of a long day – and how much celebration that merited! Checking items off a list gives the brain a hit of dopamine that can be really calming and centering, for a depressed person or really for anyone. I highly recommend it.

Started talking about mental health with my loved ones more regularly. I feel like it’s become much more acceptable to discuss this kind of thing, publicly and privately, over the past decade or two. Although I am sometimes tempted to keep my struggles internal so I don’t have to trouble anyone else with them, I always feel better after talking through my moods with a trusted pal, partner, or family member. Their support is monumental.

What strategies have helped you most with your mental health?