It started with me linking the mental experiences of subspace and hypnosis as connected and similar, but not the same.

Hypnosis is more head down, whereas subspace is more body up – but also doesn’t give me a sort of long-lasting emotional warmth that subspace gives me.

Both result in a mental state where there is much less noise, with maybe a floaty, fuzzy feeling, maybe a disconnect with the world, possibly an increase in suggestibility. Certainly the brain is empty and higher functions are off-line. I might lose the ability to speak, or speak incoherently, or at least have a much reduced vocabulary. I lose all sense of time. I laugh and giggle a lot, which can be off-putting to some Doms, but not to my Funiculosus!

And I don’t think to drink.

When at his house, my Dom (Funiculosus) will often ask if I’d like a drink between scenes. He looks after me well – a lot of reassurance and cuddles while we play.

The relief from the mental noise is absolutely blessed! I feel calm and safe, sometimes sexually aroused, but not always – and that’s not the point.

Afterwards, he will hold me – sometimes for hours – and chatter at me. As I come round, I might start to chatter back. But I love the sound of his voice – it is so energetic yet calming – and I feel safe.

Hypnosis gives me a sense of calm and mental quiet. Again I feel a little fuzzy, but it lacks the intensity of subspace. Of course, hypnosis only lasts for anywhere between fifteen minutes to maybe ninety (if I let one track merge into the next). Like subspace, it can take a while to come round, but it is much less intense and doesn’t last nearly as long.

It also doesn’t give me a sort of long-lasting emotional warmth that subspace gives me.

Subspace gives me a neurological rest and an endorphin high.

While I was thinking, I realised that a few days after the play with Funiculosus that I felt tired, headachy, and irritable.

What was that about?

I wondered whether it was perhaps a bit of a low-grade cold – then I learnt about subdrop.

I’d never heard of it before, although I guess I must have known something because I had an instinct to be held after a scene. My scenes with Funiculosus are all about restraint and a little bit of fun torture. There is never physical pain nor humiliation – that’s not his thing. And he does hold me (and feed me afterwards – with the most wonderful food – I am so lucky to have a Dom who is also a culinary expert!).

What felt like personal failure was actually my nervous system losing a structure it had been leaning on.

While I am playing, the expectations are clear, the roles well defined, he holds the space and controls the scene, I surrender and relax in a way that I have never been able to do outside of a BDSM scene.

Sunday I am in a quiet place – peaceful, alone, and calm.

Monday comes and suddenly its context switching as I bounce from meeting to meeting, people using ambiguous language, and noise and mental effort processing all these unexpressed expectations and needs from other people.

No wonder I have a headache and feel more than a little grumpy.

My Dom does what he can from a distance – we chatter and he sends me messages checking that I’m OK. I appreciate them very much…

…but it occurs to me that maybe I need to take some steps for my own after-care.

I can’t skip the meetings – they are work and I need to work!

But perhaps I can do a few things to off-set the jetlag from my flight into subspace?

So I’ve had a brainstorm (with what’s left of my brain), and came up with these ideas to lessen the impact:

• Between meetings: downshift – stand up, roll shoulders, 3 long exhales, make a drink … and make sure I finish it before the end of the meeting.
• Do less in meetings – camera off if possible; no volunteering; take notes instead of holding it all.
• Headache = resources low – water first, neck/jaw stretch, paracetamol if needed.
• Name it – “This is subdrop, not a truth.” Postpone big conclusions.
• No scrolling spirals – they make irritability worse.
• End-of-day landing – change clothes, warm shower, one regulating activity.
• Early night if you can – treat it like nervous-system jet lag.

If a drop is so horrible (its not, its just a bit of a fug), why go through a scene?

• Scene’s ground me and release me – they give me emotional and mental calm – and they reduce overwhelm, not only during the scene but in life as a whole.
• I can safely surrender and let go – my emotional processing is embodied – it enables me to feel without narrative or need for explanation.
• They enable me to realise and express a key part of who I am.
• Life actually feels more manageable after I play.
• While playing (and even afterwards), I am wanted and held.
• Subdrop passes – and now it is named and recognised, it can be managed.

Hypnosis soothes. Subspace transforms.

I see subspace as essential maintenance for my nervous system, where the drop is rather evidence of depth, and isn’t actually damage. Avoidance of consequence is a shallow way to view it (and life).

I can live with subdrop for the equilibrium that play gives me.