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.