Predatory People

I've always been leery of singles in the BDSM world, single submissives especially, because they're needy. This isn't a bad thing and I don't mean it to sound that way. But it seems the newbies let their neediness override their common sense and they cling to the first Dominant to play with them. I wasn't any more immune to this when I was new so I'm not talking from some high sense of morality, rather experience.

But this clinginess, especially when the Dominant is in a committed relationship, can cause problems for the established couple. How do you set firm boundaries so the submissive doesn't get the wrong idea? For that matter, how do you set boundaries to keep the Dominant from getting the wrong idea because they're not immune either. There's nothing like a submissive starring up at a dominant with that rapturous doe-eyed grin to make a Dominant feel good and more Domly.

I was talking with Sir the other day, I'm having an issue with a submissive he's played with. I kept telling him he should have set firmer boundaries with her. But I couldn't really say how he should have done that. One Dominant I know has his submissives perform aftercare with submissives he plays with to keep some distance. So I guess that's one way to keep firm boundaries. But how do you stop someone from liking or even loving you? And if it happens should you end the relationship/association to prevent problems within your committed relationships?

I keep coming back around to boundaries. What boundaries do you set to keep things in perspective? Do you reiterate every time you play with the same submissive (who isn't your committed partner) that they're not going to become a committed partner? Should you have to if you're both adults?

So what is the method to keep things in perspective? How can some people do it while others can't? I'm just thinking out loud really.

Double Standards

This isn't sex-based but rather status-based, maybe it is sex-based too I don't know.

 

It seems okay, accepted, and even (dare I say it?) encouraged for dominants to have multiple submissive partners.  This seems to be the "norm" in the BDSM community.  It's talked about all over the place and nary a negative word is said about multiple ownership by a single dominant person.

 

Yet, if you're submissive and identify as a slave, you're either not a "real" slave or not a "good" slave if you admit to serving more than one dominant partner.  I don't know anyone in our local community like me, who has more than one committed dominant partner and there are very few online that I know.  I seem to be running into a lot of judgement over this and it's driving me bats.

 

What makes a dominant more capable than a submissive of managing multiple partners?  Their dominant nature??  I've seen single dom/multiple submissive relationships fail time after time because the dominant doesn't manage the relationships well-enough or personalities clash.  Yet here I am, a submissive, with two romantic/sexual and one non-romantic/sexual committed relationships with dominant partners that have lasted years. Sure we've had our ups and downs and I've made mistakes but I seem to be doing just fine even though I'm a slave.

 

So why the prejudice?  Why the "shoulds"?  Why can't a slave serve more than one dominant?  I have one owner and two dominant partners, I answer to all three, but ultimately to my Master.  This is "normal" for me.  I'm wired to have multiple partners, multiple loves.  I can't change who I am and I'm sick of feeling like I should apologize for it when it's perfectly acceptable for dominants to be wired this way.

Crashed

It kind of blindsided me, sub drop. Crash really. I have no energy today, I'm feeling down, and even a little panicky. It has been probably a year since my last drop so I guess that's why I'm so shocked by it.



I thought I was experienced-enough that I knew how to manage it, cope with it, etc. That's what I get for thinking.



Master and I didn't even play terribly hard or take things too far last night but it was new and a little intense. He introduced face-slapping, at my request, and it was great. The sex was great too and we had lots of cuddling afterwards while we both came down. Perfect right? Loads of aftercare, sleeping in, lazing about watching movies today, and doing a little bit of laundry. Not too bad, but no, I'm sapped for energy and struggling to keep the sadness and blah feelings at bay.



I wish he didn't have to work tonight. I could use some more cuddling and a bit of company.

I'd love it if I had tomorrow off from work so I could spend the day in service, cleaning house and being little miss Suzie Homemaker.

Dusting Things Off a Bit

I know, I know, I know, I haven't been here. I feel like I haven't been much of anywhere these days.

I've been working and sleeping and working on sleeping and working on our local kink group and working on changing things in my life.

The catalyst for my blogging today is the loss of a friend. I found out today that she committed suicide a couple of days ago. Just a few days ago she was alive, today she isn't. I want to believe in the ideal of "that which is remembered, lives" but right now it's difficult while grappling with my feelings of loss.

I wonder what was so horrible that made life unbearable for her. I wonder if there was something I could have done to ease her suffering if only she'd reached out to me, if only I'd reached out to her. Maybe I do too much of letting people spool out on their own and coming to me when they're ready. I don't know. I can't be responsible for every single person in my life, to try would be insane. But maybe I should do more checking up on my friends to at least let them know I'm still here and that someone cares about them.

I know she had a lot of emotional pain in her life but I never realized it was so much. It's both hard and easy for me to understand why she decided to end her life. I've been there at rock bottom and knowing for certain that the light at the end of the tunnel is just another train coming to run me over again. I've wanted to die, to cease to exist, or to crawl into a hole and let the World pass me by. But I've never acted on those feelings, I just couldn't, something in me won't give up. I wish I could share some of my internal fight with others who don't have as much.

I just hope she's found peace at last. I hope her suffering is over and that she's content and has enough of everything.

I'm going to miss her and it's hard knowing that I'll never see her smiling face again and that I'll never hear her infectious laughter. She and I went through a lot of firsts together, and kept each other company as we were both wall-flowers to some degree. I'll cherish those memories.

Forgiveness

I just read this inspirational quote in one of my Beliefnet.com e-mails and I'm still processing it...

"Forgiveness is giving up all hope of a better past..."

I feel floored by this. It makes a lot of sense and I can see why, in some cases, I have a hard time forgiving certain people or acts. In the case of my mother I want to forgive her but I'm held back by the hope of somehow magically changing the past. Logically I know this won't happen but it's a childish wish. I think part of the reason I haven't been able to forgive her is that there is no hope of a better future, she won't change. So instead of forgiving and trying to forge a better future I'm just cutting her out of my life altogether. Hmm.

In the case of other loved ones and wrongs done, there is great hope for a better future and there is an excellent present so forgiveness comes easily. Hmmm yet again.

Food for thought indeed.

Orphaned

Yesterday I was trying to explain how I feel now, after last week's revelations, regarding the mother to m'Lady.  The closest I can come is that I feel like an orphan but not in the negative sense of the word.  I don't feel abandoned, rather I just feel like I'm my own person with no real parents.  And in this sense I feel free from a lot of my past.

 

I never had a father growing up.  I knew I had one and I even knew who he was, met him, and saw him occasionally.  But he wasn't my father or my dad.  He was a sperm donor for all intents and purposes and I had no attachment to him and felt no familial relation to him at all.  He made it plain that he didn't acknowledge me or my sister as his children and didn't want to be a father to us after I'd written him a letter asking why.  I feel the same way about the mother now.  I feel very detached from her and very little familial relation.

 

This may seem like a negative thing at first glance but in all honesty it isn't.  I've spent a lot of time stressing and had a lot of angst over my relationship with her.  It's been wasted time and now I am finally free of her.  I feel better than I have in a long time.  Strange but true.

 

I hope my sister can get to this point.  She bore the worst of it.  I always thought she was the favored child who could do no wrong in the mother's eyes.  The things I didn't know could fill a book and I regret not being there to protect my sister.  I can't change it now but I will try to help her get past it if I'm able.

 

So yep, feeling good.  Feeling positive.  Had a good visit with the headshrinker and I don't have to go back til January.  Yay!  Now if Master could start feeling better, poor guy has some sort of bug, the World would be right. :-)

 

 

Sweet

When I was upset last week over my sister's revelations about our mother I'd written to m'Lady and Sir.  I needed to vent (a lot) and I needed their support.  I also wanted to let them know what was going on with me just because I like keeping them in the loop.

 

Sir is on vacation and I didn't expect a response from him until he got back.  But the very next morning after writing he sent me a note of support and love.  His words were sweet and it was obvious he really wished he could offer more than just an e-mail in the way of support.  He even sent me a little something to cheer me up and take my mind off of my troubles.  It was unexpected but welcome all the same, even if I did feel a little guilty about maybe being a downer on his vacation.

 

They're all wonderfully supportive.  Master keeps reminding me that what may or may not have happened, regardless of the circumstances, doesn't change who I am.  He's right and once I digested and processed the information I wrote an (as of yet) unsent letter to my mother describing my feelings, which has helped me move through them.  I'm feeling better about it.  There's nothing I can do to change the past but the future is mine to decide and I'm afraid she's not going to have a starring role in my future.  Probably not even a supporting role.  She'll be an extra that has no lines and is very rarely seen, if at all.

 

I hate giving up contact with a blood relative but do I really want that contact given what this person has done to me?  The short answer is 'no'.

Where Did It Go?

Where did all my anger go?  My righteous anger, my unrighteous anger, my illogical and irrational anger... where is it when I need it?

 

I feel like my foundation has been knocked out from beneath me and instead of being angry about it I'm sad, hurt, lost, and in shock.  But I feel like I should be angry.  My sister told me that our mother told her she knew we were being molested but that she let it continue because he was helping to pay her bills.  She knew, yet she let it continue.  When I finally dredged up the courage to tell her (about a year after it started) she wasn't exactly surprised but she tried to deny it.  Then she finally believed me and left me home to babysit my sister while she went on with her life.  At the time that included school and AA meetings.  I was probably ten years old, my sister would have been five.

 

Knowing what I know now puts the night I told in perspective.  No wonder she didn't stay home with us and care for us.  She didn't care.  She never bothered to ask my sister if he'd touched her too.  She didn't need to did she?  She pretended to care, she called the police to file a report, sent me to stay with my grandparents for a couple of days for my safety, and had heart to hearts with me as one survivor to another as I got older.

 

It was all a lie, all one big act to cover and salve her own guilt in making her daughters victims for her own selfish ends.  I thought my childhood was sick and twisted but this is an all new low.  I was holding out hope to have a loving relationship with my mother but that hope is officially dead now.  I don't want a relationship with a monster and I certainly don't want her near my children.

 

I can feel the anger simmering deep inside me but it's so deeply buried under the other feelings that I'm not sure it will get out.  Mostly I feel sick, physically ill.  I feel like I've been violated all over again and I'm in shock, I feel kind of numb.  I cried in Master's arms last night as I told him what I'd learned.  Gods that man is a gift.  His love for me is so powerful, I feel wrapped up and safe inside it.

 

I don't know what I'm going to do or if I'm going to do anything.  It will affect the future.  Some people think you can reconcile with your abusers, forgive them, etc.  I can't.  I can not hate them but I can't let them into my life or give them the opportunity to hurt me again.  Given the other abuses my mother heaped on me and the worse ones she heaped on my sister, she doesn't deserve reconciliation.  She doesn't deserve to have me and my sister or our children in her life.  She's unworthy of any of us.

 

Master is right, this doesn't change who I am but it does put things in a different light.  Our lives could have been so different if our mother hadn't hated us, been selfish, and used us as tools to make her life easier.  I was mostly okay with my past until I found out the truth.  Now, I don't know... I just don't know.  Nothing was what I believed it to be.  Nothing.  I spent a good part of my life trying to earn my mother's love, I felt like there was something wrong with me that if I just tried harder she'd love me.  It should have been the other way around.  She's never been worthy of my love.

 

 

Fresh Start

It's a nice sunny day today.  The temperature is a bit chilly but the sun is bright and is shining into my cubicle for the moment.  Sunshiney days and cool temps tend to make me feel fresh and new.  I find I'm more motivated on days like today to make positive changes in my life.

 

I'm trying to pull together a support group of sorts for getting healthy and fit.  I know that for me to be successful I need support and accountability.  I feel ready to get back to work on my physical fitness.  If nothing else it will help improve my moods and energy levels.  It would be nice to drop a few sizes too, I've got a closet full of clothes and I can wear less than half of them due to finding too many lost pounds and being inactive.

 

I wish I could manage to force myself out of bed early enough in the morning to get a quick ride on the aerodyne bike before work.  For now I'll settle for walks on my breaks and exercise after work at home.

Circling Thoughts

I try to banish them, these thoughts, but they keep bubbling up to the surface.  I guess they need my attention and they're telling me it's time to deal.  I watched Georgia Rule yesterday and while being a good movie, it hit some triggers.  I won't spoil the movie other than to say that part of the story deals with a girl whose step-father molested her.

 

I was reminded of when we found that a close family friend had molested our oldest two.  I spent time agonizing over what my gut was telling me (the kids denied it for a long time) and not wanting to believe someone I had known for so many years was capable of something so vile.  My gut finally won and he was evicted from our lives.

 

A few months down the road we heard he'd been jailed for child molestation and again I asked the kids.  This time they told me the truth.  They'd been afraid while he was free.  Part of me died that day and has never recovered.  I know I'm not superwoman and I know I can't control everything.  I even know that I can't keep my children safe from everything.  But that was one thing I'd always wanted to protect them from.  I never wanted them to go through what I'd been through.  I spent a lot of energy teaching them ownership of their bodies and to tell no matter what.  I underestimated the power of intimidation.  I trusted the wrong person and I learned that no matter how well you may think you know a person, no matter how long you know them, you never truly know them.

 

Part of me will always feel guilty for letting that person into our home and into our lives.  It isn't logical to continue to feel badly about it, it doesn't serve a purpose, but I can't seem to completely rid myself of that guilt.  I feel partly responsible because I spent too much time questioning my gut, my instincts.  Yes I'm human and it's not something you want to believe of your closest friends.  It's a serious allegation to make.  What ifs abound in this type of situation.

 

I've tried to find forgiveness for myself and for him.  Logically I understand that he's mentally ill, not right in the head, whatever.  But emotionally I don't understand.  He knew about my background, he knew what it did to me, and he knew how I'd react if someone ever did that to my children.  We'd talked.  Sometimes I wonder if he was hoping to be caught by us because of this.  I wonder if he was hoping we'd stop him for good.

 

During moments when my mind isn't occupied my thoughts circle back to that time.  They go round and round.  I forcibly move my thinking to something more productive but that isn't really dealing with the problem.  I need to go to the source.  I need to ask why.  I didn't really ask many questions when I confronted him after the trial was over and he was convicted.  I was lucky to be able to function then.  I just wanted to hurt him as much as he'd hurt us.  I told him he was dead to us, I wish it were that easy for me.

 

The kids seem to have managed to take back what he took from them.  They're functioning and mostly happy.  They're creating lives for themselves with fewer problems than I had.  Or at least that's what I see and hear from them.  It's probably time to check in.. though I'm loathe to bring the topic up at all.  I've destroyed all pictures of him and I refuse to speak his name nor do I like to hear his name brought up in conversation.  I truly want to erase him from our lives, I know it won't undo what's done but none of us need reminders of him.

 

Surprisingly I'm not as down as I thought I'd be.  I'm just a little off today as I move through some of the feelings I've shied away from.

 

There's no drama, no feelings of 'woe is me', no self-pity.  Just the reality of the situation and finally dealing with some of what I wasn't able to deal with then, or since.

 

Games We Play

It's funny, the little games we play to initiate SM play, sex, or just some sort of intimacy.

 

When I was younger I'd wrestle with people I wanted to be near, people I was attracted to.  It was physical closeness and with the right person, turned into more than just wrestling.  I don't really do it anymore, I'm already intimate one way or another with the people I'm attracted to. 

 

However, Master and I still play silly games and enjoy a lot of humor in our bedroom.  Last night I was just feeling playful as he was getting ready for work.  I attached my hair clip to his penis and I commented "It's starting to grow!  It likes it!"  Then he just sighed and said with mock seriousness, "You've done it now... you've touched it, you have to take care of it" as he lead me to the bed, removing my clothes as we went.  I protested my innocence, not very sincerely, "It wasn't me it was the hair clip!"  "I didn't do anything, it's not my fault!"  He just looked at me and said "The sooner you get up on the bed the sooner we can be done."  It was fun, light, and playful and I guess, a form of foreplay.

 

I love moments like that because I'm a lil kid at heart and I like to play and be silly.  It thrills me to no end when he plays along with me.  It's been a while since he's been that playful and it's good to see his playfulness returning.  That's one of my favorite things about our relationship, the playfulness and the laughter.  He makes me laugh and I make him go "Hmm.." most of the time.  But still I amuse him with my quirks.

 

We don't play games to initiate SM, either I ask or he initiates it.  I think it might be fun to try "play punishment", similar to the hair clip situation but with spankings before the sex.  We don't really need these games but they do keep the humor and fun alive in the relationship.

Overcompensating Perhaps?

I've been feeling extremely happy lately.  I finally have this "deep dark secret" that never really was a secret in the first place, off my chest.  I feel like the lines of communication with Master and with m'Lady are wide open finally.  I feel like I can breathe again.

 

We've had a lot of miscommunication or lack of communication regarding our relationships and it feels SO good to have them open.  I didn't realize how much of my personal misery was tied up in all of that until it finally hit the proverbial fan and we all started talking.

 

However, as a result I'm finding myself eager to find playmates for Master and wanting to prove to him that I really am okay with him playing with others.  Some of our issues have involved my insecurities, jealousy, and (ultimately) fear of loss of Master's time, love, or attention.  So I've been babbling like a brook about him playing with others, suggesting possible playmates, and asking him if there is anyone in particular that he's interested in.  I know, I know, this is not my area of control.  He made it clear that I needed to put on the brakes and leave it to him.  So I'm letting go and letting him decided if/when he plays with others.

 

Yesterday, watching an episode of HBO's Big Love I was struck by the beauty of the family atmosphere.  I told Master that that type of life appealed to me somewhat.  I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable, perhaps he's still unsure of me and that will take time, or maybe I'm just off base and he doesn't want another slave.

 

I can see that my change of mind might seem sudden.  To be honest I've been thinking things through for a long time but there was always something holding me back, something internal.  But that something seems to be gone now and I'm agog at all the possibilities that I've been closed to for so long and that I've kept Master from for so long.  Ultimately my hang-ups have really limited the growth of our relationship as Master and slave so I'm really looking forward to our future now with hope that we'll get out of this rut we've fallen into.  Saturday night was certainly an excellent start.  Friday evening was a good start too.  I was irritable with no real good reason for it and every time I'd get revved up he'd check my attitude, it really helped to not be allowed to get too far with the irritability and negative attitude.

 

Today life is good. :-)

Awesome Weekend!

This weekend was one of the best I've had in quite a while.  I had things planned and they (mostly) involved being home and doing some projects.  Instead I wasn't home much at all and didn't get the projects done but I did have a great time.

 

Friday night was a home night, a girls' night in with old episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV show.  I think my favorite episode has to be the one titled "Wishes" where Xander and Willow are vampires... there is one scene in particular that gets my motor revving.  Xander stands behind a girl and bites one side of her neck, then Willow comes in from the front of the girl on the other side of the neck and as they feed Xander wraps his hands in Willow's hair.  (fanning self) that is just hot hot hot!

 

Saturday I spent time with our local kink group, got to meet a new member and chatted up friends and got some really good squishy feel good hugs.  Then I picked up HRS and we went to the mall.  First stop Teavana!  OMG!  If you're a tea lover it's definitely the place to go.  They've got a Web site http://www.teavana.com and it's spectacular.  I got to try two teas I'd never had before and I just have to say, loose tea beats the crap out of any bagged tea I've tried so far.  I oohed and ahhed over all the gorgeous teapots and teacups and the sake sets.  I found a book that is a serious wish list item.  It has step-by-step instructions on how to perform Chado, the Japanese Tea Ceremony.  I've been searching for just such a book for YEARS!  Now I've found it, yay!!!  I told HRS to tell LMR (Little Miss Raincloud) that if she's looking for holiday gift ideas I wouldn't be averse to gift cards to Teavana. (grins)

 

Saturday evening was spent watching movies with HRS and Master, we watched Run Fatboy Run, if you're into British comedy and/or Simon Peg it's a good movie.  It was hilarious and sweet at the same time.  We're big fans of Brit comedy and I'm a major fan of Brit programs like Doctor Who, Hotel Babylon, and Red Dwarf.  So now you know my geek side.

 

Saturday night Master and I went to bed sort of early and boy am I glad we did.  He got out the cupping set and covered my back with them and then the real fun began.  It was a wonderful way to spend the evening and I was goofy happy that he chose to play with me and made the time to do so.  The sex was great too. ;-)  We rarely have just 'us' time these days.  During the week we're both so freaking worn out from working, plus he works overnights so our schedules never mesh, that the last thing we're thinking of is any kind of SM play.  Sex is generally for his pleasure (and I'm NOT complaining about that-I love it) but we don't have the time to spend enjoying each other that we'd like to have.  Weekends are usually time for both of us to vegetate and recover for the coming work-week.  I really wish Master could get some regular exercise, I think he'd feel a LOT better and have more energy.  I know I've felt a bit better since beginning to walk on my breaks again.  Sure I'm worn out but I don't feel dead at the end of a work day like I had been feeling.

 

Sunday was fun, it was a girls' day out.  HRS and I went to the Pride parade and Pride Fest and we had lots of fun.  I saw a couple of friends in the parade and at the Fest and got to introduce them to HRS.  HRS and I enjoyed some shows from a locally famous Drag Queen and an excellent Prince impersonator.  It was one of the first times I didn't feel self-conscious, I was dancing and singing along and just having fun.  Poor HRS (who is a bit introverted and shy) was a little embarrassed by Mom's dancing.  Hey, I never said I was good. lol

 

When we got home we had dinner and watched tv as a family.  It was nice.  I got to bed early and made decent time with my morning routine.

 

Master has been working on getting into a routine schedule so he can be awake in the evenings with us.  I've really enjoyed it a LOT.  I've missed spending time with him and HRS as a family.

Poly-Ooops

Sooooooooooooooooooo, I don't write about Sir much, if at all.  Mostly this is done out of respect for Master's feelings.  He still struggles with the situation and I wonder if some of that is due to me not talking about Sir much.  It may have been going on for some time but we haven't really dealt with a lot of the issues.  He assures me he's fine to keep me happy and I walk around on eggshells to keep him happy.  In short, bad idea.  My intentions have been good, not wanting him to be uncomfortable reading my blog and not wanting to make him feel "less than" in any way.  But it has backfired and now it feels like we're starting all over and I'm re-learning how to do it and how to do it right.

 

In not writing about the good stuff I've done a great disservice to Master, Sir, and m'Lady.  Especially to Sir and m'Lady because I used her as a venting/advice tool and never really talked about the good stuff.  As a result I've given her nothing but negative stuff to base her opinion of Sir on.

 

I feel like such a rookie.  It isn't as if there is a lot of precedence for successful multi-dominant/single submissive relationships.  As I mentioned to a friend in e-mail, I feel like we're pioneers and right now it's like we're lost in a snowstorm in the mountains somewhere with a bad map.  We've been drawing the map as we go and it's time to draw a new map because the old one is waaaaaaaaay off.

 

I love them and I want all of us to be happy.  The way I see it, in order for any of that to happen we need to work together as a unit instead of as three separate relationships and I need to work on my behavior and communication skills.

Snippets

We paint pictures of our lives with words, we bloggers do.  But they're only snippets, snapshots of moments in time.  They're not a complete picture.  Some of us write only when moved to do so, some of us write as a means of venting or working through issues, and yet others write to share ideas.  Still, they're only bits of the complete person.

 

I realized last night that I usually only write when I've got emotional stuff going on and I use this blog as tool to vent those emotions and work through the issues.  I've painted a very tiny bit of my life and one might get the idea that I'm miserable all the time, which is far from the truth.  I laugh often, live well, love, and am loved in return.  I realize my writings are unbalanced and I need to do more writing about the good things, paint a more complete picture.  Granted this blog is still for me and my Master, I think he too needs to see more of the good stuff from me.

 

As a beginning....

 

I'm several months out from surgery now and I think I'm about as good as I'm going to get.  The implant helps with much of the leg and foot pain, nothing to be done about the lower back other than medication.  I'm adapting and forcing myself to begin walking on my breaks again, my body needs to move and it rewards me when I do.  I feel better, even if only mentally, I'm benefitting from the exercise.  I'm learning to relax my lower back when I walk and that isn't nearly as easy as it sounds but it does help and I haven't been having the muscle spasms as badly as I was before I figured out that little trick.  I'm also exercising at home.  Okay, so I'm not in a routine yet but I do have a workout that seems to be fairly low impact and feels good to do.  It's also easy because it's broken up into 10 minute segments so I'm not overdoing it and I don't feel like I've got to keep going til the end.  Ten minutes and I've moved my body, made it happy, and made myself happy.

 

I'm working at getting healthier too.  I found all the pounds I'd lost two years ago plus a few.  That doesn't make anyone's body happy and the extra load on my back isn't good.  So I'm eating better and less.  Okay I kinda goofed the last two days with chocolate cake and ice cream for dessert but it was Master's birthday on Sunday!  No excuse?  Darn.  I just began last week but I'm already down 1.5 lbs, that's a good start in my book.  Imagine what I could do if I exercised regularly?  That's what I'm thinking of. ;-)

 

So that's me for now... new beginnings

 

 

Mental Illness

I'm sick, I'm mentally ill.  I cringe at those terms.  I feel there is such stigma attached to being 'mentally ill' that I want to distance myself from the label.  In doing so I'm jumping right into DEnial and that's not helpful for me or my illness.  The medications I take can sometimes further allow me a deeper trip into DEnial because most days I feel "normal".  Then I get b*tchslapped by my illness, either it gets stronger than the meds or, in the case of the last week, I'm off the meds for some reason.

 

It has been a harrowing week and weekend.  I'm sure Master has a few more grey hairs than he had before.  I know I do but thank the Gods for hair dye!  I'm still not 100%, maybe 80% right now.  I'm shaky, fragile, and I could cry at the drop of a hat but at least I'm able to get out of bed.  I'm sitting here at work today and I'm functioning.  I couldn't get myself out of bed Tuesday, I felt trapped there, I felt as if I was going to die in my room trapped in that bed.  That's the height of mental illness for me.  Not being able to do something as simple as getting out of bed.  It still sounds as stupid now in type as it did when I said it Tuesday morning with tears flowing down my cheeks.  But, stupid or not it's just one of the many manifestations of my mental illness.

 

Maybe Master is right, I don't accept my mental illness as being part of who I am and maybe that is what makes it so rough for me.  I keep expecting to "heal" and be "normal" instead of learning to cope with it and accepting it.  I don't want to accept it.  I don't want to be mentally ill.  Master says there is no such thing as "normal", most of the time I agree with him.  But when I'm in the throes of my illness I mentally flog myself for not being normal, I moan about never being "normal".  "Normal" is my Holy Grail in a way.  It's something I think I'm going to find if I just keep searching, if I have enough faith, if I'm good enough... and so on.  Too many ifs.  I've never been "normal" so why should I expect to start now?  I realize how silly that hope is when I stop and think about it like that.  I'm always a big proponent of making the most of the life one is given.  I don't seem to be practicing what I preach do I?

 

My new goal is acceptance.  Acceptance of myself as I am now, not as I wish I were or as I will be if x, y, and z happen.  I am mentally ill and have been from a very young age, medication helps me to function.  So what?  I wouldn't be ashamed of needing medication for a physical illness such as cancer, why should I be ashamed of this?  Stigma.  Personal bias.

 

My mother has been mentally ill all my life, a drug addict, and revelling in the "victim" role.  All this along with being physically and emotionally abusive.  I've spent most of my life fighting to not be at all like her.  Yet here I am, mentally ill, physically limited, and dependent on medication to function.  There are differences and it's those differences I need to focus on.  I'm not addicted to my medication, I'm not abusing or misusing it, I've worked hard to overcome most of my issues, and I keep looking for solutions to my physical limitations that will allow me to live my life.

 

So here I am, at work instead of sitting at home.  I've been here an hour and a half and while part of me wants to run home the rest of me knows that isn't an option.  I need to stay here and in staying here I will gain some strength and functionality.  I'm proud of myself for getting myself out of bed today, for getting a shower, and for leaving the house to go to work.  I couldn't have done this just a few days ago, not even yesterday.

 

Life is what we make of it, I often forget this but that doesn't make it any less true.

Character

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Kahlil Gibran

 

This quote nearly made me break down in tears when I heard it.  The deepest, most genuine, and strongest people I know are those who've suffered in some way and come out the other side stronger for it.

 

Sometimes I think this is me, sometimes I don't.  Sometimes I look back at my past, then I see myself now and I am filled with wonder that I am the person I am after all of that.  I could have so very easily gone down the wrong path, taken the wrong turn, and I did take a few wrong turns but despite that my core was strong and good.  I've always known who I am, even while soul searching I knew.  It's a bit like archaeology, you have a good idea of what's there but you have to excavate, dust it off and clean it up to get a really good look at it.  That's how I've found different facets of myself.

 

I know I wouldn't be who I am today without yesterday's experiences.  Sometimes I'm conflicted about that.  There are some experiences I think I'd trade in a heartbeat, but each experience, each choice leads to a new experience and choice.  It's sort of like those books, you get to choose what happens next and don't know where your choice will lead until you've made it.  Unlike the books you can't go back and unchoose, if only life were that easy.  But if it were would we value it as much?  I don't think so.

 

I'm feeling very introspective today, it's dreary outside and raining.  The seasons are changing, I can feel it in my bones, in my soul.  I find myself looking forward to Fall, to Samhain and the chance to honor loved ones I've been missing.

Interesting

Today Master told me he didn't know how I could take the temp piercing/suturing to my labia.  I didn't say it but my thought was, "How couldn't I?"  He loves doing it why would I ever think to even attempt to deny him that pleasure?

 

The reason behind his statement is that living with chronic pain he's noticed a marked decrease in his desire for the fun pain.  Yes, Master is a masochist as well as a sadist.  He used to love some extreme bits of pain but for the past two years he's been living with chronic pain due to unhealed injuries.  Knowing the pain I live with, he's just incredulous that I take the type of "fun" pain I do.

 

So here's my big confession.  I don't always enjoy it.  Sometimes I'm not sure I can take it, I get this butterfly feeling in my stomach and the urge to run away is almost overwhelming.  I'll even say "I'm not sure if I can take it" before he starts.  I curse, yell, call him naughty names, and make idle threats to his person during some of these sessions.  That's part of my pain processing process.

 

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I serve as masochist to his sadist.  I sincerely believe taking pain for him to sate his sadistic need is a form of service.  I love serving him in this way.  So how do I take the "fun" pain when I live with the "bad" pain day in and out?  Desire, need, and seeing him happy.  In the case of labial suturing, I get to spend days with a tender cunt, having to be careful of how I wash or use the restroom and each time remembering whose cunt it is.  Each time I move I'm reminded of the experience.  And knowing this makes him happy.  I make sure to let him know it's tender with the occasional "ow" when I get up to do something.  I know he's aware of why I'm saying "ow".  I hold out as long as I can before I beg him to remove the sutures because I don't want to give them up.  I like the control aspect and I like his pleasure at having such simple control over me.

 

I just found out today that he would like to permanently pierce my labia.  I'm somewhat excited about the prospect but am wary, I want it to go well and heal well.  The goal is to gauge them to fit a small eyelet piece of jewelry and there would be four piercings altogether, two on each labia, which he could tie closed once all the healing is completed.  I'm in love with the idea so I'm researching technique, etc.  The good news is we have some local piercers who know their stuff and are willing to share info. :-)

Feeling Like a Fraud

I feel like a fraud now. Like, since I'm not really "living" D/s or M/s I don't belong in any of the online forums I've been frequenting. I don't know where I fit anymore. Maybe I was always a fraud and just didn't know it.

How do I find my way through all of this? Who can I talk to? I don't know anyone that has the situation I have. Sure people can give relationship advice but honestly, I know the right and wrong things to do in relationships. That's not my problem. My problem is I still have the relationships but they've turned VANILLA and I'm not turning with them. How do I live like this? Do I go out and find another Dom? Yeah, I need another one of those like I need a hole in my head. In other words I don't need a new relationship, I want to fix the ones I have but I don't even know where to start because the problem isn't with me, it's with them. Their own personal issues that are getting in the way. I just get to sit here and dangle while they go through the motions. It makes me angry.

My sister tells me I can't do the work of both people in the relationship. She's SO right. But, I can't walk away, there's more to the relationships than just M/s, D/s, or SM. I love these men and I KNOW they love me. But I still have needs dammit. I want my Daddy/Master, I want my Sir and I want them NOW. :-(

It's a hurty kinda day and I'm just sad over it all. I've been trying to believe that everything would work itself out eventually if I just kept trying. Disillusionment sucks.

I don't know who or what I am anymore. I guess for now I'm just me, whatever that means.

Lost

I feel like a woman without a country. Rather a slave without a Master, sort of. He's still alive and well physically but the Master in him is in hiding, the Daddy in him died a long time ago. I've been struggling for a long time now but just kept my head down and kept on keeping on.

Today a text from Sir sent me over the edge, it sort of lanced the growing wound of anger, hurt, loss, and sadness. It all poured out at him, all my hurt and anger over having very little of his time and being a very, very small priority in his life. And all the feelings of loss and pain over not having the Master and Daddy in my life that I need and love so much.

I feel lost, drifting, alone yet not. I've become so service-oriented that I don't know how else to live. I need control in my life, I need someone to serve, I need SM, I need, I need, I need. I'm too needy.

I go back to work tomorrow and I'm worried about how that's going to go. I'm sick with it. Despite having my implant reprogrammed and my meds changed, I still can't do much without pain. I want to keep hoping that I'm still healing and that it will get better. But I'm scared that I won't be able to sit for even the four hours I'm scheduled to work without pain.

I'm miserable and unhappy today. Sometimes I think it's my own doing, I have all these needs and expectations and then I get hurt when they're not met. Duh! Quit needing and expecting and you'll be fine, right?

Funk-y

I've been in a funk for a while now. I had the surgery, technically it was successful. No infection, good healing, the implant is operating as it should.

However, I feel like I'm worse off now than I was before. I can't sit, stand, or walk for more than 30 minutes without pain that starts at my tailbone and works its way up toward my shoulder blades and down the backs of my legs to my toes. All this despite the spinal cord stimulator that is supposed to alleviate the butt/leg/foot pain.

I spent two hours sitting at a visitation/funeral yesterday and the rest of the day/night and most of today in pain as a result. I'm frustrated, angry, and scared. I don't know how I'm going to manage to work, much less try to live my life. My pain doc's nurse said "You're just over a month from surgery, give it time." How much time?? How much agony do I have to put up with before something freaking works?! Shouldn't I be improving? I'm not. I've hit this point and I don't seem to be moving past it. I've been at this point for the last two to three weeks and it just isn't getting any better. This leads me to wonder if this is it, if this is the best I can hope for.

Oh me of little faith, I know. I'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired all the time. I want something to go right just once. I want to be as active as I was two years ago, I want to feel as good as I did then. I want to have a happy medium again so I can be active yet know my limits and work within them. This, this just doesn't work for me and I'm really bummed.

On The Other Side

So, I survived surgery. Go me! The first day was awful but each day I see improvement, the muscles are relaxing and aren't spasming as much. The incisions burn a little but it isn't like I'm not familiar with that type of pain so it's minor compared to the muscle spasms.

I'm trying hard to be a good girl and not overdo things despite feeling like I can do more when all the meds are on board and keeping much of the pain at bay. It isn't easy, just lying around doing next to nothing and having people wait on you when you're accustomed to being the waiter instead of being the waitee.

I'm not allowed to drive for at least three weeks, and not allowed to be a passenger for at least two weeks. That leaves me housebound, which really bites.

I have so many plans, so many things I want to do. I'm ready to get on with my life and yes, I'm slightly impatient to do so.

The prognosis is good, the surgery did go very well, and my nurses were extremely impressed with the sutures. I have to say, they are unlike any I've ever seen before, they're very detailed and precise. I hope this means the scaring will be minimal.

My libido was on hold due to not feeling very well but now that I'm starting to feel better it's coming back full bore and Alan is very adamant that we're not having sex until I'm healed. That's going to be a super long time. I'm going to grow cobwebs down there!

I'm anxious about how we're going to have to adapt our play so I'm impatient to talk with my surgeon about living with the implant but I won't see him for another five weeks or so. Not that I'll be up for playing before then anyway, but still, I want to know what goes on the "Don't" list. I hope not too many things. Alan and I just found the perfect gloves for our boxing play. I'd be sad if we couldn't do that anymore. I'd really miss the punching play we do too. Oh well, it's an unmanageable right now so there's no use worrying about it.

In the meantime, there's GOT to be a safe way to have sex that won't jar my back. *grins*

Extremes

I seem to be moving toward more extreme types of play.  Last night I practically begged Alan to pierce my labia and sew them shut.  Today I want a series of piercings along my labia that can be locked shut.

 

He did pierce me and, using fishing line, stitched one area shut.  I love the way it feels, restrictive, constantly present.  I can't forget it's there no matter what I do.  I'm torn between riding an endorphin high that hasn't gone away, and a bit of drop from the heavy playing we did Saturday night.  I'm also feeling a bit frantic, as if I've got to experience everything I can right away.  It's a bit like sub frenzy but with a sense of urgency as if I am running out of time.

 

Last week I felt a sense of relief and purpose, this week I'm just frenzied and I have nowhere to spend all this energy because I'm tied to a freaking chair and a phone having to repeat the same stuff over and over again to different people.

 

 

Impatient

So, I saw the surgeon yesterday.  He gave me a surgery date.  May 29th, exactly two weeks from today.  I feel panicky, I want to get all the paperwork done NOW.  I want to get the time off approved NOW.  I want to get the surgery over with NOW.  I want to be recovered NOW.  I know, I know, patience is a virtue.

 

There will be lots of changes afterwards, some good, some sad, but it's all a trade off.  I have to give up some things in order to gain pain relief and increased energy.

 

I'm scared, no doubt about it.  The surgeon wanted to be sure he impressed upon me how serious this surgery is and he was successful.

 

I have so much to do and I don't know where to start.  Blah!  I hate major surgery.

Who's That Girl?

What is it about verbal humiliation that hit my hot buttons?  Is it because it was so new to me?  Or am I really kinked for that?

 

I just don't know and I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all.  Sunday's verbal humiliation really helped to strip me down to my slave-self, nothing else existed.  I wasn't thinking about my physical pain, the things that were stressing me out, or even the impropriety of any of it.  I was simply reacting and accepting.

 

Some part of me likes to be verbally humiliated, as evidenced in the e-mail I wrote to Alan telling him I wanted to produce more milk for him and be his "milk cow".  Just reading what I've typed here has me shaking my head and blushing.  I can't believe those are my thoughts and desires and that I'm actually articulating them.  It's so contrary to who I am in many ways.  I'm usually quiet, reserved, and very controlled.  I keep a lot of my deep dark desires to myself.  I'm also usually overly sensitive to humiliation.  Yet here I am talking about them, I've mentioned them to Alan, and I've happily accepted his verbal humiliation and thanked him for it.

 

I THANKED him for everything he did on Sunday.  I was grateful.  Instead of focusing on the fact that he was tormenting me I was focused on the fact that he did wash me and he bathed himself, thus giving me a clean body to lick and suck on at his command.

 

I'm just trying to figure out who this girl is that seems to be taking over my body.  I think this is linked to the growth spurt I wrote about in an earlier post.  I'm finally learning, I think, how to really surrender myself to him and I'm finding a joy and peace in it that I didn't know could exist.  I just hope he doesn't stop or let us lose momentum.  I think this is good, I think it's a good foward movement for us.

Perspective Realigned

I thought my weekend was going to suck.  Saturday night was supposed to be "date night" but Alan was tired and I was overly emotional about the whole thing and entirely too focused on myself and my disappointment.  We're both miserable over him working overnights but getting overly emotional about it isn't going to help anyone cope.

 

We did a lot of talking and finally went to bed.  I was wrung out emotionally and could barely keep my eyes open any longer.  I remember waking up because I couldn't feel him in bed with me.  I looked over my shoulder to see him sitting at the computer, was reassured and fell right back to sleep.

 

I woke up Sunday morning to a note in the bathroom with explicit instructions on it.  "Go potty, go eat, take meds, bring me a drink, strip, wake me".  I was so tired and sore I was half tempted to let him continue to sleep while I took meds and rested some more myself.  But the note didn't leave any wiggle room so I did as I was told.  I got his drink and when I got upstairs with it I sat it on the desk and quickly stripped down to bare skin.  Then I picked up his drink and carefully walked over to his side of the bed and gently woke him.  His smile and softly spoken "Good girl" undid me.  I quivered and trembled a bit.  It's not like him to praise me in that way.  I felt good and nervous all at the same time.  It's a difficult feeling to explain.  He asked me if I was cold to which I replied that I was.  He, being the wonderful sadist he is, pressed his cold glass against my nipples and enjoyed their immediate response.  He took mercy on me as I stood there shivering and let me turn the fans off.  Then he crawled out of bed and took me into the bathroom talking about how I needed a shower.

 

He told me to get into the tub and kneel, I knew what kind of shower I'd be getting then, as he stepped into the tub with me.  He was very obviously aroused as he began to urinate all over my body and my face.  He ordered me to open my mouth and he urinated there too.  No part of me was left dry.  I shivered there in the tub with his urine cooling on my body.  He then remarked that I needed to be cleaned up.  He grabbed the shower head and turned on the water.  I got a bit hysterical then as I clung to his leg and begged him to not use cold water.  I was overwhelmed and completely undone, all I knew was that he was in control of everything and I depended on him for something as simple as warm water to be bathed with.  I wanted to stay on his good side and hoped he'd be merciful.  At first the water was cold, he didn't wait for it to warm up to use it on me so I whined a little until the water warmed up.  He hosed me off and pushed my limits a little by keeping the water in my face, particularly my nose and mouth letting me feel as if I were going to drown.  I stayed as calm as I could and didn't panic.  I think I was too much in shock or I just trust him that much, that I didn't feel panicky about it.  He finally had me stand so he could bathe me.  For those that know me well, being bathed by anyone other than myself is just this side of torture.  I'm very OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) about my personal hygiene.  He knows this only too well and uses it against me from time to time.  Yesterday morning was no exception except that he took it farther than he's done before.  He would comment about how he was only going to wash me very minimally, if at all, and that I'd have to go all day with smelly body parts.  I wanted to beg him to clean me better but I just couldn't for fear that he wouldn't clean me at all so I submitted quietly to his ministrations.  It was difficult because he would comment every now and then about how "stinky" I was going to be or how I had urine on my breath.  By the end of the shower I felt thankful for the cleaning he did give me.  Once we were both clean and dried off he brushed my teeth for me and put my deodorant on as well.

 

If he'd decided that was the end of our play for the morning it would have been enough.  I felt realigned.  His bathing me and taking care of all of my personal hygiene routine reminded me that I am his and he can do whatever he wants to with me.  It was a good reminder.  However, he wasn't through with me.  He was feeling sadistic and was going to feed that need.

 

The SM wasn't all that unusual but he used a lot of verbal humiliation that he's never used before.  It was powerful for me and left me feeling very vulnerable, objectified.  He pushed my trust limits too, waiting until he'd blindfolded and gagged me and then pushing me backwards to fall onto the bed.  It was a scary feeling, I hate not being able to see.  I was jumpy and fearful, especially when it felt as if he was going to f*ck me with the blade of the knife.  Then he shoved the handle inside me instead, I couldn't help myself, my hips rocked gently in time with his thrusts and I sighed with regret when he removed it to go back to torturing my poor pussy.

 

Afterward I could barely move I was just drained and so, so, so relaxed.  I ended up napping for a little while during the afternoon.

 

I'm beginning to understand what people like about verbal humiliation.  Words are so powerful.

Growth Spurt?

I feel like I've hit some sort of "growth spurt" in my enslavement.  For the last week or so I've been cooking all the meals, doing all the dishes, and making sure Master's and my lunches are ready for the next day.  I have the most profound feeling of peace from these simple tasks.  Yes I'm tired after work, yes I hurt, but these things don't seem to exist when I'm performing these tasks.  I'm happy to do this and more just to be of service to my Master.  I find myself wanting to give more of myself to him, I want to give him anything he desires just to see him happy.

 

I think I've also finally found my way back to submitting to Sir.  He gave me a simple task to do yesterday and I nearly squealed because I was so giddy over being able to do something for him again.  Sir and I have seen a lot of each other over the past month and it's been making me very happy because not only are we having one on one time, we're having triad time too so I'm getting to spend time with both Sir and Alan (not always a good thing because they're wicked-evil together).  I've missed the after sex "puppy piles" we have where we're just lying around nude chatting, goofing off, and cuddling.  No the men don't cuddle together but they cuddle around me, which leaves me feeling safe, warm, and loved.

 

I have had some trouble with obedience in a couple of areas.  It isn't deliberate or intentional but it is something I know I can and should control.  I've been getting junk food during the work day even after promising Master that I wouldn't.  I feel bad about it and I do feel like I deserve to be punished for it.  I'm also slipping and saying the "a" word *whispers: you know 'ain't*.  I've got to be more dilligent with that, I owe it to my Master to do so, and to be obedient.

 

Edgy & HOT!

I love breath play and strangulation play, everything to do with it turns me on.  Well, I found a new form to try, re-breathing or shared breath.  I just adore the girl who turned me on to it!  (thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!)

 

Sir and I tried it Sunday morning and I just have to say wow.  It felt so intimate and I felt so very vulnerable and turned-on but it was slightly different than when we've (or Alan and I have) done other forms of breath play or strangulation play.  The intimacy was definitely greater since he was breathing for me.  I don't think I'll ever be able to forget the feel of his lips sealed around mine, his hand plugging my nose, inhaling his breath then having him exhale mine and waiting for him to give me more air.  I felt so floaty and light-headed afterwards and just happy.  We sat there and grinned at each other like idiots for a few moments.  I think we were both excited by it but we realized we needed to work on timing so we tried it again. lol  The timing was better the second time and it was just as intense and intimate.  I love it.

 

I love new experiences like this and I'm happy that Sir was willing to give it a go.

 

I'd like to be bitten until blood is drawn, being bitten, especially in a sexual setting, is a HUGE turn-on for me.  Having someone share my blood is also a huge turn on.  I'd love to be bitten and then share a kiss with my partner while my blood is still fresh on his lips and in his mouth.

 

Sick little masopuppy, maybe but I'm happy and that's all that matters to me. :-)

When is it enough?

I just wonder, when is it time to just quit trying to grab the carrot that doctors are dangling in front of you?  When do you say "Enough!" and just quit?  I'm tired of trying.  I'm tired of hurting.  I'm tired of being put off and strung along by doctors who give me one option and one option only.  I've had it.

 

I'm tired of putting my life on hold waiting for this option.  I'm tired of hoping, only to be told, "wait just a little longer" over and over.  I'm weary, I'm exhausted.  I can't do anything but work due to extreme physical exhaustion from the pain.  I spent the evening with my Sir Friday night and slept on and off most of Saturday and Sunday to recuperate.  Some life huh?

 

Yeah, I know it sounds like a lot of whining.  It could be a lot worse.  But I'm fed up with it all.  I'm just sick to death of dealing with doctors who seem to procrastinate like it's a hobby.  I just feel like giving up.  Master is angry with me because I want to give up.  I suppose he's got the right to be angry but for Pete's sake, how much do I have to endure?  Why can't I just lie down and give up?  I don't want to do this anymore.  I don't want to deal with this pain but I don't want to keep waiting and keep hoping only to have my hopes dashed every time I turn around.  It's intolerable.  Master doesn't understand why I hope.  Hope is what keeps me thinking positively, without hope this is what remains.  Hopelessness.  Frustration.  Depression.

 

I don't want to work anymore, I want to be able to rest so I can take my daughter for a walk, so I can exercise and get rid of all this fat.  But no, instead I have to work and give up exercise so I can work.  I just wonder what I'm working for if it's all I do.  What is the point of having money and insurance, etc. if I can't enjoy it?  Oh that's right, so my family can enjoy it for me.  Yay.

 

I've just had it and I'm tired of being made to feel as if I'm being childish or like I'm whining for no good reason because I've run out of fight.  I just don't have it in me anymore to keep trying.  I can't see the silver lining in the clouds.  I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel without the sure knowledge that it's just another train getting ready to run me down.  No more pep talks.  No more chiding.  NO MORE!

 

As silly as it may sound, because it is so unrelated to my situation, I understand why people with terminal illnesses finally just quit with all the "cures" and live what life they have left.  One can only chase rainbows for so long before realizing you'll never catch one.

New Experiences

We had a great weekend, we got to go visit another group for a fabulous workshop and play party after.  We played alright and played hard.  It was intense and new.  He took me to the point of nearly being hysterical then gentled me down and took me up again.  It was gratifying to me to be able to take more for him by being given a chance to recover myself a little bit.

 

I came away from it with actual marks!!  I've got bruises!!  It's been such a long time and I can't stop gawking in the mirror whenever I'm nekkid in front of it.

 

I feel so GOOD, so peaceful and relaxed.  Actually I could use a nap. lol

 

Seriously though, I don't feel stressed or frantic about anything.  All is right with the world.  Okay, all will be right with the world so long as m'Lady forgets all about the surgical staples and stapler.

 

I love this state of mind, this place of peace.  Nothing seems impossible and I feel good about myself as a slave.  I feel soft, pliant, serene.  It always amazes me to find myself feeling like this.  You'd think I'd be accustomed to it by now.

Day Dreaming

It's 8:25 a.m. and my work day hasn't even begun yet I'm ready to head home.  I have craft projects I would rather be doing.  Things that I can't exactly bring to work. *chuckles*

 

I'm working on perfecting a pair of rope floggers for Alan so he's got a nice matched pair for the demo we're attending on the 29th.  I'm also going to make him a new set of knotted end rope floggers to maybe enhance or replace the pair we already have.  I'm eager to get these done for him, they'll take a little while to finish.  Being the anal retentive perfectionist I am, they'll take even longer.

 

I'm restless, I want to get out and DO something.  It's Ostara today, the spring equinox, and I just want to be OUT!

 

I'm itching to get all sorts of things done that I don't have time to do otherwise.  I'm craving some time in the sun, just soaking it into my pores, as well as crafting for Alan.  Sometimes having youngins at home makes that difficult.  I can't just decide to go sit out back and craft for obvious reasons.  I can't sit in the living room to craft for those very same reasons.  It's frustrating sometimes, trying to live both lives as seamlessly as possible.  I hate compartmentalizing my life, I'd rather it be one whole piece.  I'd LOVE to be able to tell vanilla folks that I've got to check with Master before I make plans.  That's probably why I avoid vanilla friendships.  I have one and we rarely talk because our lives are so different.

 

I'm uncomfortable and somewhat fearful around vanilla people sometimes, especially when I have visible bruising or marks from SM play.  I had a rug burn on my elbow last year that drew some attention from my co-workers and I had to explain it away.  How much different would it be if I could have said, "Well over the weekend my Master and a close dominant friend of ours did a takedown scene and I got a little rug burn in the process."?

 

How much different would it be if I could tell my doctors that the 'A' carved into my right buttock was a mark of ownership from my Master?  That the "scratches" were from a night of torture and pleasure with my favorite toy, cold steel, sharp knives.

 

How much different would it be if I didn't have to worry about my Master being carted away in handcuffs for spousal abuse if someone overheard our playing.  Or that our children would think he was abusive by seeing my service to him or overhearing our play?  How much better would it be if I could simply confess to them how happy this way of life makes me?  That I've never felt more loved and cherished than I do right now?  That the things he does to me I've volunteered for and generally love, even if I hate them?

 

Yep, I'm ready for the work day to be over and my long weekend to begin!

Let It Flow

It seems like since my post yesterday I have a lot to say but a lot of it is incoherent babble.

 

More and more, as I get further into this lifestyle, especially M/s, I see a direct correlation between dog training and slave training.  The Master is the alpha, the pack leader and the rest of us who aren't alphas are followers, or pack members.

 

The problem I find myself running into, it's a brick wall that I bang my head on constantly, is that I'm not wholly a follower though I crave the safety of the pack and I want/need to be a pack member.  I have a little bit of alpha in my personality make up and I'm always banging into it.  I'm guessing Alan probably feels like he's banging into that brick wall too when he tries to assert himself.

 

So how do I learn to stomp on the alpha part of myself and roll over and show my belly like a good submissive?

 

If you haven't guessed by now, we've watched a lot of the Dog Whisperer shows and I really do find a direct correlation from what he says to our M/s relationship.  Maybe I need that sound or hand signal from him that tells me I'm overstepping my bounds and that I need to get back into line.  I don't always know how to act and in that case the alpha portion of my brain takes over and says "I'm the Boss, screw him!"  The submissive portion groans in silence knowing the outcome isn't going to be pretty.

 

Being human though, I try to work it out instead of just acting on instinct as a dog would.  I try to actively focus on being pliable, open, submissive.  *sigh*  If anyone had told me how hard it would be to be a 24/7 slave I might have at least had second, third, and fourth thoughts before committing to this.  Naaahh, I can't back that up, it's the life I crave.  Total immersion in my Master's control.  I just wish the alpha portion of my brain would shut the heck up.

Ho Hum

Lots of changes, lots of life happening, and lots of waiting.  That seems to be the tune my life is played to these days.  Sometimes I think I want to play it to a different tune but I'm not so sure I really do, deep down inside where it counts.

 

Alan is working overnights for now, it's supposed to be temporary and I'm keeping all the crossables crossed in hopes that it's *very* temporary.

 

I've been panic/anxiety free for about a month now.  Not too shabby if I do say so myself.  I keep telling myself "Things will be even better once..."  But will they?  I want to believe it's true.  I want to believe that I'll be happier, healthier, and will have more energy once I can finally get the permanent spinal cord stimulator.  The trial was a huge success and I'm told the permanent implant kicks the crap out of the temp.  How can I not look forward to it as a cure-all even though I know it's just another band-aid?  I'm willing to take anything I can get right now until medical practice catches up and they can actually fix my back.

 

I tell myself I'll be happier, healthier, yadda, yadda, yadda once I get the implant and can start exercising again.  Okay, so that one is probably true.  I want a bicycle this year.  I found the one I want at Wal-Mart, it's a mountain bike, sturdy and hot pink.  I want to get a matching one for HRS and something manly-looking for Alan so we can go on bicycle rides together.

 

Things with the local group really seem to be skyrocketing as far as growth and activity.  It's thrilling to be in the midst of it and to be part of it.

 

FINALLY I get to travel to a BDSM event, granted it's still in Iowa but at least it's not home.  Alan says we get to go and I'm SO excited about it.

 

I feel like I've stagnated, like I'm buried under ice and snow, sleeping and waiting for Spring to come along and wake me up so I can grow again, stretch, and soak up the sun.

 

HRS has made it clear that she wants us to celebrate Ostara this year, last year was a mess and I wasn't feeling very celebratory.  This year I want to make it different, special.  It used to be that I would give the kids baskets of candies and doo-dads on Ostara.  This year I want to give her some things that actually pertain to the holiday and this time of year.  A time of growth and rebirth.  To that end I think I might get her a plant of some sort that she'll be responsible for.  Perhaps we'll even make some candles together.  I've got less than a week to put this together so I'd better get shakin'.

 

Re-reading all of this reminds me of the quote "Life is what happens while you're busy making plans."  I've been living life, sometimes at a breakneck pace, sometimes more sedately but I've been living and living well.

 

Blessed Be!

 

 

Ketchup!

It's been a while, I know.  I've been horrible about journaling.  I haven't been making the time to do it as I should.

 

Life has been extremely busy from Alan's torn quadricep tendon in his knee/thigh to Zboy moving back home for a bit, to me finally getting approval for and doing the week-long trial for the spinal cord stimulator, and everything in between.

 

I don't even know where to start.  I miss the temp stimulator, I felt almost normal, aside from feeling like a human vibrator.  I was able to walk farther, faster, and at a brisk pace without the pain slowing me down.  I'm back to slug pace now until they can make the appointment for me to see the surgeon again.  I have no idea how long that's going to take, it could be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months.  I've waited this long, I suppose I can wait longer.

 

Last night I felt as if I were on top of the World.  Master had had a busy day and I not only cooked dinner but did the dishes as well.  It felt good to do all that and give him a moment to relax.  I did snipe at him when he made some comment about me "complaining" about being busy when it's something he does daily.  If I complained I didn't intend to.  I felt a little harried and a lot tired.  I'm not accustomed to that much activity, especially in light of having just had the trial stimulator removed and having had an active weekend.  Maybe I was a little whiney or crabby.  I don't know.  All I do know is that I do feel good for having done those things for him.  I feel like I accomplished a lot and was finally able to be of real service to him.

 

Speaking of the active weekend.  We went to a play party Friday night and played several times.  It was SO much fun and I'm reveling in all the aches, bruises, and cuts I have to remind me of it.  Okay, so I don't like having my bruises poked and I do get even by rubbing Alan's belly since he's tender there.  Part of our play that night was "boxing", we play fight by punching and slapping each other and we both got in some good shots.  The rest of our play involved sharp and pokey things.  M'Lady even got to "sew" a bell onto my right breast, I loved it, even if we did have to use a 19 g needle to do it.  *ouch!*  I didn't want to remove the bell but Alan reminded me it might hurt a lot trying to take it out later after it'd begun to heal around the fishing line.  So wistfully, I let him remove the tiny bell.

 

Saturday was munch day and I had a good time socializing and making a new acquaintance.  I'm really enjoying my service to the group but I need to pace myself so I don't burn out.  There is just so much I want to accomplish and I'm so eager to do so that it's hard to remember that I've burned out before and lost my desire to serve the group at all.

 

I think I've spent so long just surviving and doing what needs to be done to get by and I'm finally and thoroughly done with it.  I'm sick to death of missing life and living life to its fullest.

 

So that's where I'm at today.

ANGRY!!!!

And defeated.  That's how I feel today.  I got another no from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester last night in the mail, this time they just don't have the appointment space for me.  Then this morning I find out that my insurance company has denied the spinal cord stimulator as not being medically necessary.  Of course my doctor's office can appeal it but appeals can take up to 30 days.  I'm starting to wonder if I have to have a failed back surgery to make it medically necessary.

 

I'm going to ask my doctor to refer me to an orthopaedic surgeon here in town for one last try at surgery and I'm just going to force the issue.  I don't care if the doctor thinks it will help or what my odds of success are.  I just don't care anymore.  All I want is proper medical help and it seems like that's asking too much.  Alan says we'll get a lawyer and sue the insurance company to pay for the implant if the doctor's office appeal fails.  I don't know where he thinks we'd get the money for an attorney.

Feeling Whipped

I'm exhausted, wiped out, zapped, zoned, vegged, just plain worn out.  I'm tired of fighting for today.  My stomach hurts because I'm so stressed out and I'm stressing out over things I can't control and I know it's wrong.  I'm almost beyond caring.  It feels pointless to keep fighting sometimes.  It just seems like I'm not getting anywhere anymore.

 

I don't have any fight left in me today, maybe tomorrow will look better.

Negotiations

That's where we're at, Alan and I.  We're negotiating the terms of our continuing M/s relationship.  We're ironing out needs vs. wants and what we both feel is reasonable.

 

I have to giggle just a little here because his favorite show is The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan and nearly every time he explains something he uses dog pack mentality for his analogies.  Yesterday he was telling me that yes, he had given me too much leash and was letting me "walk" him instead of the other way around.  I giggled and told him I was just waiting to hear him imitate Cesar's accent, and of course, he obliged me.

 

It is true though, at least in our household.  I'm a beta but will be alpha if the alpha isn't alpha-enough.  As with dogs, human owners have to train human property to be submissive, they have to lead them in order to be followed.  So we're working and negotiating, not to get back to what we had but in order to move forward.  I think we've both realized just how badly our communication broke down and I think we will keep working at communicating more openly.  I'm still uncollared but I don't want it until he's ready, if and when he's ready to do so.  I want him to be firmly in the lead, I'm weary of leading, it's not my accustomed position.

Worthless

I feel worthless this morning.  I feel like I've given up part of my identity and I did it of my own free will.  Why?  Because I felt like he wasn't taking the reins, I felt like I had too much slack in the reins and after asking more than once for more consistency, and less slack, I got tired of asking.

 

I gave him his collar back and told him I needed him to decide if he really wanted to own me and if he did then I needed him to lead me instead of letting me lead.  I don't fear punishment.  He may threaten it but he doesn't follow through.  Maybe I'm not slave material, maybe I'm just a submissive playing at being slave.  I don't know.  I feel like I don't know who I am right now.

 

We're going to a play party tonight and I don't know how I'm supposed to behave, I don't know how to play with him as a submissive and not as a slave.  I just don't know and I'm confused as can be.  How do you use safewords you haven't had for years?  I'm so accustomed to playing with him as his slave that I don't know if I can code.  I'm so jumbled up inside I don't know if I can even get into the right headspace to play at all.  What if I just get angry instead of letting go and enjoying the scene?  What if I bring all this emotional crap with me to the party?  He'll be disappointed in me, more than he is already.

 

It hurt my feelings when he didn't immediately say "Of course I want to own you, let me put this collar back on."  He has to actually think about it and I'm scared that I've screwed up royally this time.  I may have ruined the best thing I ever had all because I felt I had needs that weren't being met.

 

Am I wrong in asking to have my needs met?  Am I wrong in asking for consistency or for direction?  I know the way I go about it sometimes, like last night, is wrong.  I disrespected him and I am deeply sorry for that.  I could have cut myself a million times as pennance for that mistake.  I'm just so frustrated and I feel like I have nowhere to turn to ease that frustration so it balls up inside me, I try to stuff it into the deepest corners of myself and ignore it.  But I only have so much room for stuffing things and I finally boil over, like I've been doing all week.  I get a good mad on and I don't care anymore about anyone else's needs but my own.  It's selfish and childish.

 

I'm not worthy of his collar, I know this now.  At best I can hope he'll still want me as his submissive but the truth is, I may have ruined that too.

Lost

I feel lost, like I've wandered away from my Daddy in the store, except he's wandered away from me and I can't find him.  It's Daddy who is lost, not me but it doesn't make me feel any less lost myself.  When my lil peeks out he seems almost angry with her.  I got angry with him on her behalf last night.  I said some things I wish I could take back but that doesn't mean they're not valid.

 

He used to love his lil girl and made her feel special and wanted.  Now she just feels like she's in the way and unwanted, unloved.  It hurts.  He snapped about something and being tired of "kid sh*t" and I reminded him that's what he's got so he may as well deal with it or else we'll find someone who can.  It wasn't fair to threaten like that and I really wish I could take that back.

 

But at the same time, what am I supposed to do?  I've been encouraged and even indulged with my lil, Daddy loved her.  What did she do wrong?  What did we do wrong that our Daddy doesn't love us anymore?

 

Maybe he's not a real Daddy for us, it was just "fun for a while" and now it's not fun anymore?  Maybe it's a phase, one he cycles in and out of?  I don't know.  What I want to know is what we're supposed to do in the meantime to feel whole and complete.

 

I wonder if I made a mistake in exploring this part of me now.  It's like a Pandora's box that can't be closed.  My lil needs to be loved, adored, and pampered.  She needs her Daddy and doesn't understand why he won't love her or play with her like he used to.  All the adult reasoning in the world doesn't change that base need.  I don't understand how he can shut it off, I thought he needed it too.  Now I feel like I misunderstood his intentions and got too wrapped up in something that was only a passing fancy for him.

 

I wonder about finding another Daddy, but neither of us wants another Daddy, we want the one we had, we want him back.  Maybe that's too much to ask for, we're just sad and lonely without him and wish we didn't get snapped at or yelled at when we're peeking out.

Something In The Air

What is it about the first snow and the impending holidays that seem to lift my spirit?  I feel that childlike wonder when I see the giant Christmas trees in the buildings around downtown.  I'm awed by the colorful lights and decorations and of course, the craftswoman in me is taking mental notes for home decoration.  (Master you might like a couple of the ideas I have, they'll make our tree really pretty!)

 

It's more than that though, I love spending time with family, sharing food with them as well as time.  Creating new memories.  The holidays may always be bittersweet from now on, we'll always miss Jamey but he's always with us so long as we remember him.

 

I hope to always have big family holidays, whether it be our own or our extended family.  That is what the holidays mean to me, family.

 

I'm overly eager to get things in the living room arranged so we can decorate the tree.  The kids and I always do the decorating and we have such fun doing it together.  This year I imagine we'll have lots of pictures since HRS got a new digital camera for her birthday.  She's become the family paparazzi and chases us all around to snap pictures.  Of course we nick the camera from her and get a few shots in ourselves. *evil grins*

 

I'm feeling very positive, sentimental, and a bit teary-eyed right now as I watch the snow falling outside my window.  Big fluffy flakes that get caught in your eyelashes and melt on your nose.  It's a beautiful sight.

Dark Night Of The Soul

Most people might not know what the Dark Night of the Soul means. Basically it's facing yourself, bare without the little lies we tell ourselves, facing our demons, everything, and coming out (hopefully) stronger and more self-aware for it. In Pagan traditions, or at least the one I learned in, this was usually done with more intent, though not always.

Last weekend was such a one for me and it was long, horrible, and terrifying. Yet here I am today, stronger, and definitely more self-aware. I thought for sure I was going crazy, I was completely out of control as my emotions ran rampant and took me over entirely. Master had the presence of mind to get me help when it was clear that I was beyond his aid.

Since then I've been making the journey back to me, to my center, to who I know myself to be. I'm bringing back some wisdom with me this time. I'm growing and evolving in the way I think, or at least I'm trying to. It's a process and a week isn't nearly long enough to prove anything by any means. It will get put to the test next week when I go back to work, and each day after that. Each time a new problem arises my new way of thinking will be tried and tested. I can't promise that I won't fall back into old patterns but I can promise to try to not do so.

I'm sick, you see. Not a sickness you can check the blood for, nor one that causes fever. No, it's a sickness of the mind and it takes a lot of cognitive re-training to heal. I've spent nearly my entire life with this sickness, since about the age of 7, but am only now getting the type of help I've needed all along. I'm not disclosing this fact for sympathy but to dispel the stigma we seem to attach to mental illness, still in this day and age. So yes, I'm mentally ill but I'm getting better. Maybe I'll relapse, maybe I won't, but I can no longer feel shame for something I can't control. It would be like having cancer and being ashamed of it. Silly huh?

Justice

Two families, two different viewpoints. On the one side there is much celebration and relief, justice has finally been served. On the other side there is sadness and a sense of loss, it doesn't feel like justice to them.

Today the jury came back with a unanimous decision of guilty in the first degree for our Jamey's murderer. He tried to weasel out of it, tried to claim self-defense, tried and failed. Our family has mixed feelings, on the one hand we're pleased with the verdict, on the other hand we still wish there had never been a need for it at all. Finding Eric Miller guilty of killing our Jamey won't undo what was done, it won't bring Jamey back to us no matter how much we may wish it. What I'm looking for in this verdict is closure. It's finally "over", his killer won't get away with it, he won't kill another innocent person, and I can move on through the grieving process.

I feel so much lighter in spirit this afternoon than I have in the past year. Relieved, released from the bondage of grief, reveling in this new sense of rightness.

I don't celebrate at the expense of his family, I don't wish them ill. But their Eric does belong in prison, taking responsibility for the cold-blooded and calculated murder he performed. He devastated our family, I know his own family is hurting too, they're bewildered by why or how he could do such a thing. But, isn't that always the way it goes? Those closest to a killer swear up and down that they're innocent, they'd never suspect him/her of doing such evil things, s/he would be the last person on Earth to do despicable acts to animals or other human beings. Yet, your loved one is capable of evil deeds. We all are, it's part of our human nature, what makes us good or bad people is how we decide to handle those darker urges. What we do with them.

Master doesn't always understand my compassion for others, even those who have wronged me. I just have no place in my heart for hatred anymore. What purpose does it serve? It makes me ill with constant anger, discontent, and thirsting for vengeance. Vengeance won't undo the deed, it won't return lost loved ones, all it does is hurt another human being and gives me more karma to burn off. It's a waste of energy in this girl's book.

To Eric's family, I'm sorry your son did what he did and I'm sorry for the loss you're feeling. However, I am overjoyed for our family, overjoyed that justice, as we see it, has been served. I feel hopeful again, hopeful about the future, and about life in general.