Done feeling sorry for myself

I saw the doc again yesterday. Good news, no herniated discs! Although they did find a little arthritis but the doc says it's nothing and that I shouldn't worry about it. To say he treated me like a child and was dismissive of my concerns would be an understatement. I can't believe he has the arrogance to believe that he can treat patients like that and get away with it. Well, I suppose he can get away with it but this is one patient that won't be putting up with it. I'm going back to my regular doc and will address my arthritis concerns with her.

The burden of being me

I suppose a little catch up is in order: Last week, day three of being on the new job my lower back began to ache. This went on until by Monday I was in agony. Saw the doc Monday afternoon, got an anti-inflammatory medication... Tuesday was more agony bringing me near tears. Wednesday took a day off and called the doc to inform him the pain was worse. Made an appointment for Thursday, after telling the doc about the pain down the legs and tingling down one leg and various other numb spots the doc scheduled an MRI for Friday evening and gave me a steroid and pain pill on top of the anti-inflammatory. Friday morning, attempt to go back to work. At 8 a.m. I am dutifully in my seat working diligently. By 8:30 a.m. I'm shifting in my seat and gritting my teeth. By 9:00 a.m. I am in agony and admit defeat.

My assignment has been ended until my back is under control. The good news is that they like me and want to bring me back when my back is under control and when they have an opening. This was a small comfort to me and was a bit of a balm to my guilty conscience. I feel guilty, I was supposed to be working to help alleviate some of Master's stress, and instead I am now adding to it and costing him more money on top of it all. I realize my back going wonky isn't my fault but part of me thinks I should have pushed myself and just sucked up the pain so I could continue to work.

Last night, Friday night, was the MRI... I was nervous. I'm a big girl and I knew I would be wedged into the tube. They wouldn't allow Master to go back with me so I had to go it alone. It was kind of scary, I'm a bit claustrophobic.
When they began to slide me into the tube I panicked a little so they brought me back out. I took several deep breaths and they offered a wash cloth to cover my eyes. Had they attempted to put it over my eyes I would have bolted then and there. I got myself under control and gave the signal for them to proceed. Going into the tube was an ordeal, the table moved slowly and I had to close my eyes as the reality of the top of the tube being only one to two inches from my nose was too much for my mind to handle.

My shoulders were scrunched up so I would fit inside the tube, I almost forgot the pain in my back as my shoulder and neck muscles began to groan from the tension that sang through my entire body. I focused on keeping my breath from being fast and shallow and began to picture the last time Master had me cuffed to the cross as he dragged our knife across my flesh. That image and the sure knowledge that Master would cuddle me afterwards helped get me through the procedure.

It didn't take long though it felt like an eternity. It was the combination of the confined space and being utterly dependent on total strangers for my extraction from said space that frightened me. Had Master been allowed to be there with me and keep a hand on my leg or my shoulder I would have been fine. Master is my lifeline; I look to him for safety and assurance.

Now that the ordeal is over we have to wait for the results. I see the doc again on Monday morning to find out what is or isn't wrong with my back and decide a plan of action. I feel helpless right now, despite wanting to exercise mind over matter my body is dictating to me what I can and cannot do.

At this very moment I am missing my oldest niece's birthday party because I couldn't bear the car ride to the park and then sitting on a park bench. Until last night when I had about an hour to two hours pain free, I hadn't been able to serve Master sexually.

Next weekend we're supposed to attend a play party, I doubt I will be up to our usual favorites...we're both concerned that anything that impacts my back or butt will further injure my back. Happily, Master is open to alternatives that are equally as intense. Still I'm a little sad that we can't enjoy our usual favorites together. Instead Master will most likely work someone else over as I watch. At least he won't lack for playing. As my Lady reminded me, my back being wonky isn't my fault nor is it his fault and it shouldn't keep him from having fun. Still, I wish it were me he could beat. I feel like I'm going to miss out on some fun, but what's more, I feel like my back is keeping me from serving him in all ways.

Being human is a really tough pill to swallow. It doesn't jive well with the whole super slave mentality that I get going sometimes. *insert wry grin here*

I am trying to keep my focus on Master and on doing the things for him that I *can* do instead of focusing on my own misery and on the things I can't do. It isn't easy, especially when the pain gets bad. Pain wears a body down mentally as well as physically.

Lust

I sneak peeks at her on the sly. I wonder if she sees me watching her. I wonder how I appear to her.

I find myself imagining what it would be like to corner her in the women's bathroom and kiss her deeply. I feel the heated rush between my legs as I imagine exploring her mouth with my tongue.

I picture her nude, I wonder what her flesh would feel like under my hands. I wonder what noises she would make as I teased and tormented her into a frenzied arousal. Would she make soft mewling noises or husky, full-throated groans? I wonder.
She's the object of my lust, unknowing. I'd rather admire, and lust after, her from afar. I don't want to know if she would be attracted to me, I don't want to know her orientation. I just want to fantasize about her. Is that bad?

Workin' for a living

I'm finally working. I feel good knowing that I am finally able to do something tangible to help reduce Master's stress. He seems much more relaxed now.

But, there is a downside to having a full-time job. I no longer have any personal time and I took it a little hard yesterday. I had become accustomed to having hours of time for myself to read, do whatever research might catch my fancy, or just watch programs that I enjoy. I started stressing last night over holding a full-time job and taking classes at the same time, in addition to researching the topic for each month's submissive's forum. I might have to beg help from my fellow submissives to get the research done. We'll see how things go in September, if I begin to struggle or stress overly much I'll have to ask for help or change how the forum is structured.

Comfy clothes-I can't even begin to describe the pure joy I take in getting to put on my comfy lounge clothes when I get home from work. It's a simple pleasure and one that I look forward to each day.

UPDATE: I got my grades for this term; I did well, nothing below an A-!! :-)

Okay, enough babbling, must help cook dinner.

Struggles and switches

For the past several days life has been hectic for Master and myself. It all began Thursday with a night of no sleep for either of us and spiraled out from there.

Saturday was my birthday and the photo/play party. I woke up feeling my slave space very much and looking forward to some photos of me worshiping Master's boots. Of course, I was also looking forward to the very hard play that we'd planned earlier last week. As it happened, Master was feeling very sub and not at all in a space where he could be in control. At first I was sad and disappointed, I shed a few tears and then I sucked it up and threw myself into Top space where he needed me to be.

I thought I was doing us both a favor by insisting that we go to the play party despite his headspace. As it turned out, that was a mistake. Master was extremely uncomfortable and as the evening progressed I became more and more unhappy with myself and with the situation. I was completely out of sorts; I craved my slave space and was envious of those who didn't have to be Top for the night.

Master, still taking care of me as he always does, asked our good friend Master J to play with me. Master J and I had a very heavy resistance scene. The resistance was unplanned but was good nonetheless. The beast inside was unleashed and it fought with amazing fury...I railed against Master J and vented my frustration and disappointment with guttural growls and hisses...it ended suddenly when I had a bit of an asthma attack and ended up shedding a few tears. It was cathartic for me, I felt cleansed and at peace with the day's events.

The following days have been spent with me still in a bit of a Top space as Master needs. He's having some issues right now that are keeping him from being his usual Dominant self. Master, like me, suffers from panic-anxiety disorder and occasionally it takes him down for the count. Thankfully he sought treatment today to help him through this bout. Tonight he seems a bit more like his usual self and I can't say how grateful I am to see the sparkle come back to his eyes. My heart nearly broke seeing him so in need.

Unlike any other time this has happened, I don't feel as though I am dominating Master. Instead, I feel as if this is just another aspect of my service to him.

Tonight I feel a deepening of my submission to him, I feel more bonded to him than ever before.

Thinking

We're caught up in day to day life right now; me with school and the job hunt, and him with work.

My birthday is coming up soon and while I wish I could, I don't feel particularly celebratory. The day will be spent at our local group's munch and then at a play party hosted by our friends, at which we'll have some pictures taken before the party begins. I want to be excited about having some sexy BDSM pictures taken of me but I keep thinking about how large I am and how large I'm going to look in the pictures.

There were a couple instances this week where I got a good look at certain parts of my body. It was shocking to me, to see how large these parts have gotten. When I look down at myself I don't see the hugeness that I see when I look in the mirror. It's a bit depressing really, to look in the mirror and see the reality of my size. I realize my size is my doing. No one is forcing me to eat.

I have all this knowledge about how to eat right and even how much to eat. I know what exercises I should do and how much to do and how often to do it. However, I don't know how to make myself do these things or how to overcome my psyche's resistance to change. I've asked Master for help but with work keeping him so busy it is very hard for him to keep on top of me about these things. In addition, it is difficult for him to overcome his psyche's resistance to change.

No one said weight loss was easy, though I think it should be, weight gain is easy isn't it?

I see friends having the gastric bypass surgery and on the surface, it appears to be the "magic pill" that works. Everyone that has it loses so much weight. And it happens fast and they don't have to work very hard for it.

Then I give myself a reality check, it's a major surgery, you have to become very disciplined and eat a specific way or else risk malnutrition and a whole host of other issues. There is also the issue of all that excess skin that just hangs there and looks horrible and can begin breaking down. I think about that and realize that I would have a whole lot more self-loathing over that loose skin than I do now over my weight. Still, the desire to lose weight and be thinner is almost overwhelming, almost enough to make me want to close my eyes to the reality.

I'm bombarded day in and day out by commercials and ads about weight loss. It is really hard not to succumb to the pressure and buy into the idea that thin is beautiful. I get angry sometimes, angry and frustrated by it all. *sigh*

What can I do? I try very hard to hold onto the thought that Master thinks I am beautiful no matter what size I am. His reality is that I am beautiful, and most of the time it is my reality too.