Ghosting

Life.  I don't know if I'd call this endless, empty, existence a life.

I don't feel real, I don't feel like a person, not unless others are around me pulling me into existence.  Until they leave again or until it's time for me to leave.  Sometimes I wonder if I succeeded in committing suicide and this is my personal hell.  I feel like a ghost just drifting through the World with no meaning to whatever this existence is.

I don't feel real.

Am I defined by my illness?  Is it who I am?

It has lost me a husband and gained me a caretaker instead.   He is just existing too, between work, sleep, and taking care of me because I can be a danger to myself.  I have to hide the proof of my past transgressions.  Long sleeves in the summer are a misery but I think I deserve it.  The painful scars aren't enough punishment for putting my loved ones through the worry I've put them through.  Seeing the scars every time I glance at my arm, they won't fade, being reminded of that day, knowing that I was serious about ending the pain is not enough.

I would give anything for 5 minutes of total sanity and happiness.  No I wouldn't.  The pain would seem more pronounced, the depression stronger, all because of those 5 minutes of peace.  You never realize just how much pain you're in until you get a break from it.  When it comes back, when it comes back...

 

My sister sent me a link to this song and some of it fits too well, too close to my reality.  I just can't wrap my head around the idea that I'm an innocent.

I'm in a bad place again.  I want to numb the pain, trying to stop it is too dangerous and makes me less trustworthy in the eyes of my friends and family.  They wonder how far I'll go.  What if?  It scares them.  I wish they knew how much it scares me.

I'm ghosting through life looking for meaning.  Like the Velveteen Rabbit I want to be real.  I want my life to have meaning.  I want it to be worth something.

Yay! More Druggy Goodness!

Yay, instead of just upping the dose on my one anti-anxiety drug she adds an additional one to the cocktail.  She absolutely refuses to entertain the idea that when the dose is high enough the other works just fine.  I'm not happy but I'm giving it a try.  It will either work or it won't, right?

I hate Mondays.  Daddy has to go to work and I am lonely that first workday without him.  I try to not say it often.  But I do want him to know that he is valued and loved with such force of emotion that I miss him the entire night.   I look forward to the coming morning when I get to greet him at the door.

I love you Dominus!  I'm not trying just for me but for you too.

Confession-Good for the..?

I don't know what this confession will be good for other than providing the transparency and honesty I own my Dominus.  It's more than that, it's the open and honest communication required in any healthy relationship that I owe to both of us.

I hate to admit this to myself, to you, and to Dominus.  The relating of a few people we know has taken up way too much space in my brain and it has to stop.  I thought by not talking about it anymore would help.  I thought leaving a group I fairly enjoyed would help.  I even thought leaving a Web site where I got a good amount of support would help too.  I was wrong.  All of these things were toxic to me because of the people involved there and my inability to distance myself from the "content" of my feelings and getting sucked in deeply every time I read something new about them.  My need for vindication, to be heard, to be believed, and to be valued were so great that it ate me from the inside out.

I learned through the grapevine that a few people who, much like a car wreck, I haven't been able to avoid looking at (being emotionally invested in) have split.  Like the child I am, I couldn't resist temptation and I went back to take a peek.  I wanted to see abject misery, I wanted to say "I told you so!!" to a few people, I wanted to be so petty and hurtful but I couldn't.  It wasn't fear of being caught out so much as it was I am simply not that person anymore.  I don't want to be her.

I felt empathy for them, I wanted to help them.  I hoped beyond hope that they'd both be open to the life's lessons sitting square in front of them waiting to be examined and learned.  I know, it isn't my place to decide who should learn what and when.  It's just, I can see the lessons waiting for them and I'm slightly disappointed because it seems the lessons are being ignored as the people are so caught up in the emotional content of what is going on.  Gods know I can't blame them, I know their pain.

I feel bad for them and the hurt they're experiencing.  There is still that petty little monster inside me that wants to say "Serves you right!".  I'd like to kick that little monster into a dusty corner somewhere.

I am sorry to my Dominus for my misbehavior.  I knew I shouldn't go back, I wasn't supposed to, and  I don't have a good reason for doing it.

I am sorry in general for wishing anyone ill.  Karma is going to catch me up and it's going to hurt.

I am disappointed in myself for disobeying Dominus, for giving in to those base urges of watching the car wreck that was the end of their relationship, and for being an all around lousy human being for a couple of months now.

I would like to make amends to Dominus for deliberately disobeying his commands.  I knew better but I disobeyed anyway.

I would like to earn Dominus' forgiveness.  I'd like to be able to forgive myself and not hang on to the bad feelings.

Mostly, I just want to take away the disappointed look I know will be in Dominus' eyes.  I'm scared of seeing and feeling his disappointment in me.

Ouch!

It's been non-stop panic-anxiety for a few weeks.  Which is causing it?  The isolation or the medication?  Which is worse?  Me off meds or me isolated?

I'm trying to figure out what I can do with my life from this point forward.  Sooner or later I'll have an answer.

The Pitfalls of Idolizing

They're people we meet in life, we look up to them, we respect them for being who we believe them to be.

They epitomize something important to us, they are the ideal of what we wish to be.

Therein lies our mistake. We've put an ordinary human being on a pedestal and we don't see the warts, wrinkles, hairy moles, bad moods, foul language, and a myriad of other human failings.

It is devastating then when our idols tumble from those pedestals, being revealed for the garden variety human beings they always were. We're then hurt, sad, disappointed, and crushed. If our idols aren't the gods we pictured them to be then what are we? We who modeled ourselves after our idols?

We're still ourselves, still trying to become the best people we can be. And our idols? They're healing from that tumble off the pedestal and are now better able to teach us because we're no longer worshiping them as the gods they're not.

Growing Pains

You find a partner, develop a relationship, and you get comfortable. Then one day you wake up and your entire world is upended.

You question yourself, your judgement, your worth. "What did I do wrong?" "What is wrong with me?" "I can't live this life." "I don't want a life without him in it."

You go into mourning and fall into self-pity. Drag yourself up out of the pit and carry on. You do what you have to do and you deal with it, life goes on with or without you. Then it becomes okay. Your self-worth may still be damaged along with your self-confidence. It takes more time to rebuild those than to get over him.

It's painful but you get over it and you move on. He isn't worth your suffering, your pining, or your tears. He is a thing of the past. The length of time it takes to get over him depends on you. Why waste your energy on something that is dead and gone?

Then you remember the spot of sunshine that you'd found before he threw your world into a spiraling black hole. That spot of sunshine reminds you that life can be good, it gives you hope, it makes you look toward the future with hope and desire.

Eventually someone will see you, you will be worth something to him. He will inspire your long-dormant submission and you will want to move forward with him and give him all of your submission.

You learn and grow, you begin to understand that you may go into relationships with forever in mind but not everyone does. That knowledge frees you up to better enjoy the experiences you do have.

None of this happens quickly or easily, there are growing pains along the way but it's worth it.

The one thing you forget is that those spots of sunshine are nothing more than a train coming to flatten you.  They're opportunists and you're an easy mark when you're so sad, empty, and aching for dominance.  Take time, at least one month, before you engage in any sort of relationship, sexual, SM, D/s... anything more than friends.  Learn to be you again.  Don't make the mistake I made, letting the wrong person in making the hurt worse than it should have been.

Understand that even if your relationship ends, there may be something good, something better once you've both gotten past the sads.

Daddy's Lil Girl/Property

I know it can be done and people do it all the time.  I just don't know how to wrap my head around it yet.  I've always been Daddy's lil girl and we've been Owner/property for several years.  We've had our ups and downs and always seem to make our way through them, thank the gods.

I'm just wondering if a lil girl can respond as property.  Both are part of who I am but I've been primarily property for the last several years with lil girl sitting quietly in the background.  I've been reacting as adult property, not lil girl property.

I think I'm overthinking it and making it more complicated than it needs to be.  So far I seem to be reacting as lil girl property, which, I believe is the response he wants.  I did goof on the grocery list/menu, I put down burgers on the grill for a meal and noted "Daddy makes".  Our youngest daughter caught it and laughed it off, so that wasn't the blow-up I was afraid of..

I'm the good lil girl type of lil girl and I work harder to please my Daddy.  However, I have a Goth lite side to me, an evil sprite if you will. It's weird because as property I love serving my owner and seeing that pleased look on his face and feeling his approval.  I did work hard to please my Owner but I don't feel like I worked as hard as I do as lil girl.  Maybe it's due to the Daddy/daughter relationship, lil girls always want to stay in Daddy's good graces and they just love their Daddies so much that they will go to the moon and back to make them smile in that loving Daddy way.  You know, the smile that says you're the bestest lil girl in the whole wide world, cherished and loved as if no one else exists.

I like that feeling and I think having Daddy/daughter be primary our primary interaction will work pretty well for us.  I wonder if Daddy would buy his lil girl some Hello Kitty and Tinkerbell t-shirts?  I really, really need them. :-D

Just when things were going well...

Just when things were going well, I'd had no manic episodes in weeks (?), I'd been in a positive mood and mindset, and aside from the occasional road bump I was on the way up.

Then today happened.  I was cranky, angry, difficult to please, didn't care-I had to be ordered into the shower, in short I felt like my unmedicated self.   It felt awful and I had to consciously force myself to not lash out at the Boss or anyone else.

I took my shower and the Boss took me to get some dinner and then I went from feeling manic/angry to feeling jumpy/panicky/and overwhelmed by all the noise.  This wasn't very pleasant either but at least I have something to help with that.  Finally I calmed down to "normal", this would be my new attitude/behaviors where I'm nice, pleasant, myself, non-violent, moods are level and stable, and I'm fun to be with.  The rest of the evening with the Boss went well and I even got to snuggle up on the floor in front of him on my new cushion and reveled in head rubs.  I LOVE it when he rubs my head, it doesn't feel sexual, it just feels affectionate and the 'Big me' and 'lg' love it.

Anyway, I'm nervous.  What if I'm metabolizing the medication and it won't work at this dose any longer?  What then?  I'm tired of the medication tango.  I'm trying to not get ahead of myself but I've been at this point so many times within the last 8-9 months that I'm understandably skittish.

The Boss and I, and even S and I, are just starting to make some positive changes and progress.  I do not want to become the thing I was and tear all the good stuff down because I'm a psychotic jerk.

I'm hanging in there and waiting to see what the next week holds and I see the "team" for evaluation and updates.

I'm still working on me and taking baby steps in hopes of becoming the Boss's collared slave again-maybe "again" isn't the right word to use.  This is a new and different relationship we're building.  Still M/s, still power exchange, but stronger with a steady foundation.  I plan to be a whole person bringing a lot to the table this time around-hence all the work I'm doing.  The only way either of us will be successful as any type of couple is if we come into it with eyes wide open, full knowledge and understanding of what we want to create, and an understanding of the difference between day-to-day M/s and fantasy M/s.

Yes I'm getting off on a tangent but it's like 5:36 in the morning and this is not my usual time to be awake so I'm prone to rambling.

One of my big errors was going into both M/s relationships with an eye to being owned and being in service.  I had no idea what type of service I could or wanted to provide.  I didn't know what kind of slave I wanted to be.  I didn't know how they viewed M/s and I certainly didn't know what they really wanted in a slave, from me.  I made a lot of assumptions instead.  The Boss reminds me that I also forgot rule #1-Obey.  He says as long as I Obey, I can't go wrong, get in trouble, or disappoint him.  Makes sense huh?  It's so dang simple that it took me a little while to actually understand the concept!

If we do the Handfasting/Rose Ceremony I envision for our 25th anniversary of being together, I'd like to work the word 'Obey' in somewhere for me.  We used to joke around about the word 'Obey' being in our original wedding vows.  I swore up and down it wasn't, he swore up and down it was.  This way, there would be no doubt because I'd write it in there myself. ;-)

As a short aside:  I am in the process of creating a secondary journal.  It will be kept for the sole purpose of documenting my journey through Mr. Jack Rinella's book BECOMING A SLAVE: The Theory & Practice Of Voluntary Servitude.  Each chapter, including the introduction, has post-reading activities/questions.  I see these as a chance to hammer these new thoughts and lessons into my brain, I learn best if I write as well as read.  Somehow it gets into my long-term memory better.

So watch this spot for the announcement when that goes live.

As for the rest, I will survive.  I'm making plans for the near future, activities, things that will get me out of the isolation cycle I tend to fall into.  Psychologically I do tend toward the antisocial and as such, I tend to isolate a LOT, this computer being my only contact with the outside world for long periods of time.  Changing old behaviors is just one step toward a better 'me'.  :-)  Cheers!

Swinging

Not the fun kind. Mood swings. I was on an upswing for a few days and felt happy, peaceful, soft. Today it seems that I am on a downswing, feeling irritable, chaotic, and just not quite happy. I hate the downs, I really, really hate them. I can't stand the chaos in my head and sometimes I wish I had a "chaos shelter" where I could hide during these times.

It's really difficult to deal with people when I'm feeling like this, even more difficult to deal with two Owners who have the right to make demands of me, my time, and even my thoughts. When I'm in chaos I end up feeling like a cornered animal and I "bite" in response to feeling pressed for whatever They may need at the time. I'm remorseful afterward, I'm often remorseful during, but can't seem to always control what comes out of my mouth/head.

I'd like to say I've made some progress on this as I do swallow a lot of snarky comments that I would like to make. But if I make even one comment I think that negates whatever progress I might have made.

Sometimes I think I'm wasting my time trying to improve. Usually when I'm in chaos. Go figure.

I'm trying something new/old again. I'm trying to organize and schedule my life, almost every hour of every day, so I have the structure I need. I'm using FlyLady's method, or trying it. I may modify it, I may not, it depends on how it works with my life. I know a lot of people swear by her method and it looks very sound. I've always touted it as being a good resource for s-types wanting to give better domestic service. It's probably high time I take my own advice eh?

That's me today... meh.

Quiet

I'm feeling quiet now. Had a good cry earlier after doing my slave devotional/mantra. It wasn't for any specific reason other than letting off some pressure and letting go of some icky feelings.

The slave may be used as her Master sees fit.

That is the last line in my mantra and it keeps playing over and over in my head. There's no guarantee here that my needs will be met, consistently or otherwise. But they tell me they want to take care of me and will do so, in their own time. That is hard to accept because their time doesn't always link up with what I think it should be. But...I didn't sign on for "it's all about me" if that was the case I'd be on top wouldn't I? And I'm not, I'm not built to be on top even if I have some tendencies that way, I can't sustain it.

I actually feel accomplished and at peace for the moment. It's a good feeling. I cleaned and polished my boots and cleaned and conditioned Master's shoes. I never really thought about it but leather care is kind of meditative for me. It's just me and the leather, my hands working to nourish and care for the leather. And afterward my hands are left soft and smelling of beeswax and it's a heck of a great smell. I know I've done something good with these hands when they smell of beeswax. I know I've done a good service, not only for Master but for the leather. It pleases me to see clean and happy leather and to see Master wearing that leather. And now, myself, I have my own leather boots. Tacticals and they're just awesome. I can't bear to let the poor things sit dirty despite them being meant for work not show.

My Crazy Family

Crazy like mine usually runs in families. It’s genetic, comforting eh? My children and grandchildren could develop it too. At least one of my children has crazy like mine only worse. If this child would seek help as I’ve begged him to do, he’d be so much happier.

Crazy started with the mother, could be further back but that’s as much as I know. She is Bipolar with a few sides, one being Borderline Personality Disorder.

My sister was just diagnosed as Bipoloar Level 2 the other day.

I went to the NIMH (National Institute for Mental Health) Web site in search of some answers and reading the symptoms for Bipolar disorder/Manic Depression was like reading about my own life. I’m not as extreme in some areas but can be more extreme in others. I’ve never been given an official diagnosis, I’ve never asked, and have only recently begun to be more honest and forthcoming with important information with my shrink. Perhaps with the new information she has a diagnosis now, or perhaps she doesn’t believe in diagnoses. I can only ask.

My very first “episode” I can remember is when my grandmother died. I was around seven years old. I broke with reality instead of accepting her death or coping with it in any way. I moved into my own reality and lived there quite firmly and happily until I was sent to my first shrink and therapist and “therapy school”. They trained the ability to disassociate right out of me. But I was functioning again, sort of.

All through my life I’ve had panic/anxiety attacks, bouts of depression and mania in various forms. In my early teens I started self-mutilation as a means of coping with impossible situations. That has evolved into cutting. The last episode was a suicide attempt/cry for help. My moods have always been mercurial, changing at a drop of a hat and disproportionate to the situation.

My crazy seems to be getting worse or more intense…I’m not sure what to call it. All I know is I need a concrete point to work from so I can learn to manage whatever this is so I can at least function in my personal life, if nowhere else.

The Men have stuck by my side through all of this and still somehow love and care for me. One would think after decades of this they’d want to be rid of me, but they’re not the types to quit and the Gods know I’m extremely thankful for this quality in both Men.

I do think that dealing with mental illness in O/p, M/s, or D/s relationships is different from dealing with mental illness in vanilla relationships. Maybe I’m wrong in this thinking, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been wrong. lol But it seems to me that my crazy, anyway, can rob my Owners of the ability to own or enforce their will on their property. This is in addition to the usual relationship issues my crazy causes.

These are just a few thoughts running through my head right now as I process all the new information and memories I’d put out of sight.

Ever wonder who you are? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. There is ‘me’ and ‘not me’ as far as Sir and Master are concerned. I’m inclined to agree with them. ‘Not me’ is cold, extremely selfish, heartless, angry, sad, violent, and sometimes suicidal (usually passively). ‘Not me’ takes all of this out on either Sir or Master, wrongly. I know it sounds like I’m talking about different personalities and in many ways they are but they’re still part of the whole, not splintered bits.

Progress-Nicked From FetLife

The general question asked was about progress through process. Process being the many, or few, steps needed to achieve a certain behavior modification, etc. in one's slave/property.

I see my Sir as the type to achieve progress through process. And there is a LOT of process with me. That is actually one thing I'm seriously working on, being less work, and taking less of his energy to "deal with". In my mind this is part of being a good slave, not being high maintenance, which I have been.

Back on point, Sir is much like a Pitbull (though he's described me as such as well lol). He won't let go of an issue or behavior until he's gotten through to me and we've worked it out. He won't remain silent and just let me run roughshod over him (thank the Gods!) but he's not forceful about it either, however he is relentless. If he thinks it's important he won't let it go and I think it's an admirable quality, even if I do fight against it at times, trying to re-establish some of my freedom, which I really don't want but seem to need when I feel cornered.

We've had an issue for quite some time now, we're at different points on the SM spectrum and for a long time he has been trying to show me that the way I act when I'm in extreme need of some heavy SM (for whatever reason), it appears unhealthy, as if my need for SM controls my life. I couldn't see it. It took the opinions of two different people who have varying depth of knowledge of my personality. But both opinions were very similar and both echoed what Sir has been saying for quite some time now. If he hadn't kept on it and on me I would never have gotten to the point of questioning myself and my behavior in this area.

It has been a long process but I finally understand and, having a degree of OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), I have to admit that yes I do get somewhat obsessive about SM when I'm feeling stressed, lost, or at loose ends. I owe Sir an apology for arguing with him over it all this time and engaging in "trench warfare" over it.

Sir, I'm sorry.

In general I think I, myself, am a progress through process type of person. I take time and steps to get to whatever goal is set for me, or that I set for myself.

"Normal" Or "Abby Normal"?

How much SM should a masochist need in a given month? Really, is there a "should" or a "limit" to what is acceptable need?

What if said masochist hasn't had SM play for a couple of months and gets a bit frenzied about wanting to play again? Is that unhealthy? Does it mean it's too extreme and running said masochist's life?

Definition from Dictionary.com:

mas·och·ism

   /ˈmæsəˌkɪzəm, ˈmæz-/ Show Spelled[mas-uh-kiz-uhm, maz-] Show IPA

–noun

1.

Psychiatry . the condition in which sexual gratification depends on suffering, physical pain, and humiliation.

2.

gratification gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, either as a result of one's own actions or the actions of others, esp. the tendency to seek this form of gratification.

3.

the act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.

4.

the tendency to find pleasure in self-denial, submissiveness, etc.

I'm starting to question myself and my masochism and wonder if there's something wrong with me. My Sir thinks I'm unhealthy because if it's been a while I do get frenzied and crave to play to a point where I'm wanting extreme pain play. It was never a problem in the past, Alan was always able to meet my need because it suited his own at the time. Thus he accepted me as I was and didn't think there was anything wrong with me. He still doesn't even though his path has changed some.

My Sir doesn't seem to be able to accept my masochism needs because they are a bit beyond his own comfort zone. I sometimes wonder if this is why he judges me as unhealthy when I get frenzied about pain play.

Now though, now I'm just wondering if there's something wrong with me. I'm questioning that which I accepted in myself before as being normal, the way I'm wired. I've been actively masochistic since I was 13 or 14. I'm nearly 40 now, so it's been a long time, to say the least.

I'd ask my shrink but I'm guessing her response would be "none is normal". My therapist is so vanilla I think she'd suggest I go into inpatient treatment if I mentioned it to her. I need to know from other masochists, from sadists even. People who understand this need.

I don't like being unsure of myself, I really don't like questioning myself. I was happy and content with just accepting myself and not thinking there was something wrong with me. Now I wonder.

Depression and submission

I wonder sometimes if my depression, my mental illness, has an affect on my submission. Does the quality of my submission go down as the symptoms of my depression increase? I note that I crave to submit more deeply when I feel lost in the depression. It seems to be my lifeline out, the only thing I can see that will "save" me. Is that wrong? I don't know.

I strive to submit as fully as I can because I see no other way of life for myself. Yet when the symptoms of depression are on me I am irascible, easily annoyed by simple requests, and subject to fits of anger and insensibility. Very non-submissive qualities, not qualities a slave should exhibit, yet I do occasionally and I cannot seem to exercise control over them.

So I throw myself into "submissive" activities. Pursuits that will improve me as a slave and will hopefully help me find my way back to myself. I'm almost manic in these pursuits and easily frustrated when I meet with resistance. Yet I continue in my attempts and sometimes succeed.

I feel I owe it to my Owner and my Sir to be a good slave and submissive. I owe it to myself to find my happiness and wholeness.

"A Hopi Prayer"

Do not stand

at my grave and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints

on snow.

I am the sunlight

on the ripened grain.

I am the gentle

Autumn's rain.

When you awaken

in hte morning hush,

I am the swift

uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars

that shine at night.

Do not stand

at my grave and cry:

I am not there,

I did not die.

This is where my thoughts are today. The above poem is from a card I'll be mailing to the widow of a family friend who passed away just yesterday. I feel a very strong call back to my Pagan roots. I need to be with Nature in hopes of finding some sort of peace and understanding.

There has been so much death in the last year and I'm not seeing any re-birth, I'm feeling somewhat dead inside myself. Master tells me it is only temporary, hang in there, it will pass. But it's not passing and I'm becoming sadder with each new death. Much like a child I can't seem to comprehend that these people are truly gone from this world, from this life. Whenever I think about them my grief is like a freshly opened wound and hurts as much as it did the very first day.

Much as the poem says, they are still here, that which is remembered lives. If only I could bring myself to remember without the heartache.