Epiphany

Since the birth of her child she had felt alone. Her husband returned to work as if nothing had happened and largely absented himself from the home when he was not on the clock. When the diagnosis was handed down, her friends fell away and alone was no longer a feeling, but a reality.

Aloneness became a continuous theme. Alone for feedings. Alone for firsts. Alone juggling the budget. Alone managing the house. Alone administering therapies. Alone, alone, alone. While she was capable, while she did not need anyone to help her in these things, support beyond “I trust you. Do whatever you think is best.” would have been welcome.

Her abilities to juggle and manage and problem solve became her husband’s freedom from worry. Freedom from everything. Problem ‘A’ + Wife = No problem. While she appreciated the vote of confidence in the beginning, eventually it became a burden. Because he never worried about anything, she worried about all of her concerns plus his.

As her child grew, the concerns connected to the child gained gravitas. The minor worries of vomiting every time a textured food was introduced, grew into epic level worries that the child would never have the wherewithal to hold a job. The epic worries gave birth to a host of other worries. Still, she was alone. Alone with “Whatever you think is best. I trust your judgement.”

Then she wasn’t. She met a man who changed her life. Such a simple phrase – “changed her life”. Three words with untold dimension and depth. This man, over a relatively short period of time, became irreplaceable. He became the center of her universe. He offered friendship, assistance, advice, genuine concern, support and … she loved him. Love in its purest form. Love with an intensity she would not have believed possible.

This man was a pragmatist. Matter of fact statements about finding someone else if she were “hit by a bus tomorrow” occurred with some frequency. She often raised the bus scenario to see if the answer would change, wanting to believe she meant as much to him and he did to her. The answer never did change, each time reenforcing her belief that she was not good enough, nothing special, disposable. This inserted itself into the litany of her worries. One false move and I’m out the door. She saw this as fait accompli. Not an if, but a when. Eventually, he would be done.

The pressure of this particular worry threatened to crush her on a daily basis. She would wake in the morning and think of him, wondering if today would be the day. Is today the day her world would come crashing down? Is today the day it ends? Once, when the universe called into being enormous levels of stress in her life simultaneously, she woke thinking that something had to give. She could not maintain sanity under such pressure. Of the three arenas in her life, only one could she let go.

This arena also happened to be the one that often brought her the only happiness she experienced on a given day. Being who she was, she decided, again, as she so often had since becoming a mother, that her happiness was not only unimportant, but undesirable. She had seen, time and again, that when she put her needs first, terrible things happened, ingraining the belief that she was not allowed to be happy. For whatever reason, perhaps for something she had done in a past life, karma had decided that in this life, she did not deserve to be happy for any extended length of time.

When she woke under the stress and worry of life’s obstacles, multiple issues weighed her down, making getting out of bed nearly impossible. That same morning, when she had not been speaking to him for very long, several negative thoughts were expressed. OK she thought I’m being selfish sharing my worry and stress with this man. I’m creating problems in his life. I’m draining him. I’m toxic. If we cannot both be happy, then he should be. He deserves joy. It will be harder now that I know what it is to have this but I can return to who I used to be. He deserves everything I cannot give him. He’s told me he can find another. I will leave him to it. She tried to be firm, matter of fact, about it. With raw pain infusing her voice, she stated the reasons she should not be in his life. She hinted around the edges of saying goodbye for quite some time. She couldn’t form the words. Ultimately selfish, she could not say goodbye.

Several days later, he said a thing. He often said things, offhandedly, seemingly unaware of the impact. Again, with his pragmatic way, he spoke in facts, as if they were all equal in weight and value. He told her, more fully, differently than he ever had, exactly, simply, how he felt about her. He said this as plainly and unaffected as if he were stating the color of her eyes. This statement was spoken in conjunction with other thoughts and ideas. Those that came after, she did not hear.

With the gift of his words, color flooded into her world, suddenly, in the impossibly vibrant way witnessed by Dorothy. My god, she thought, holding her breath, I had no idea. Yes, I knew he loved me. I didn’t know he loved me, loved me. I am not replaceable. I am not a place holder. I am not disposable. I am significant, important, meaningful, to this man who is my world. I’m not alone in the depth of my emotion. Maybe, just maybe, I am good enough, worthy, deserving. Maybe, she thought, feeling as though she were tempting the fates of the universe, maybe, I am allowed to be happy.

Fun fact #136

Training makes my horny. I had forgotten. I have felt bad for so long I nearly forgot I had lady bits. I trained today and it was as if my body said “Oh! That’s right! There they are! I remember those. Thanks for reminding me. Now that they’re awake let’s do something. What? What do you mean we can’t? Well … fine then. You do what you want but they’re here and I’m gonna make sure you don’t forget that for a very long time.”

Yup. Sounds about right. Oddly, I don’t mind. I’m just glad I feel well again.

 

Still Pushing

I keep revisiting the clamps with which You began Our play. I revisit the clamps and something You said after the fact about leaving them on even though they were, as always, extremely painful. I experience them easily as a 6 or 7, albeit highly localized.

I loathe those things. I have been quite vocal about that fact. Experiencing them for as long as I did did not change my mind. If anything, my opinion has been confirmed. I adore that You did what You wanted to do with me in spite of how I reacted. I do not ever want to drive a scene. My reactions are naked honesty. I have not, nor will I ever, “play act” a response in an attempt to top from the bottom.

I dispensed with safe words a long time ago, regardless of the type of play (no limits session, public play, etc.) Pain never killed anyone. I don’t enjoy the pain. I do enjoy the challenge it presents. I trust that You know me, my body, and how I react well enough at this point that I don’t need to say anything.The obvious disclaimer here is that if something odd is going on I of course inform You.

What I’m trying to say, in a round about way, is thank you. Thank you for continuing to push, for never letting me get comfortable, for not allowing Our play to have a predictable routine, for still having the ability to scare the bejeezus out of me. Thank you for being You. Thank you for shoving me further into who I am.

I can’t get enough of playing with You. I don’t ever want to stop.

…………………………….
Today I am grateful for: Robitussin
Today’s funny moment: How do you meet a swan?
Sad moment: Nope. It’s not allergies.
Protocol: n/a
Water: 5 liters
Corset: n/a – sick
Hood: n/a – sick

Thanksgiving

Thank you for today. You managed to make me feel cherished, pampered, and treasured all at once. No small feat considering We were not in the same physical space. I may not remember all of the details for long. I will remember the morning You reluctantly allowed me out of bed, only with the conditional command that I go back to bed with hot cocoa. I will likely not remember each of the words that were spoken. I may not remember the phrase that sent me over the edge. I will remember the tears of joy that I could not hold back when I heard that You still need me, that I still feed You, the depth of Your love for me.

I continue to radiate joy. Joy that You own as surely as You own me. Tears have returned as I recall the words I so often say to You … words that You echoed back today … I can never repay You for what You have done for me. As sure as I sit here, joy streaming down my face, You saved my life and in doing so it belongs to You always.

…………………………….
Today I am grateful for: My extended chosen family
Today’s funny moment: behave yourself Jesus
Sad moment: Having to hang up before You woke
Protocol: n/a
Water: 4 liters
Corset: not worn am, 24″ pm
Hood: 2 hours

Dreamland

I did not manage to get to sleep until sometime after 4:30 this morning. I was too amped up from the event and jittery from talking about play possibilities with You. All those ideas planted in my head, swirling around, creating mental scenes both delicious and horrifying.

When I did get to sleep, the scenes continued. You and I played in my dreamland the rest of the morning. We played hard and You pushed me nearly to breaking. When You saw that I couldn’t take anymore without shattering, You laid me on the bed, held me, and told me over and over that I had done well and how You were proud to own me. Then in the next dream it would start all over again.

When I woke, I was aroused at a level I have not been for a very long time. I don’t know where I found the control to not touch myself. I waited, hands on my head, to get out of bed until I could think about something, anything, other than what We had been doing in my dreams. Even then, snippets visited me during the day.

For the record: Pussy may be confused about the breath play hood. I am not. I’m terrified of that damn thing. I am extremely aroused by the ultimate control that it presents. I do not find having to fight for breath for long periods of time arousing. At all. I am Your fucktoy. I endure because it brings You joy.

…………………………….
Today I am grateful for: a couple of headache-free hours
Today’s funny moment: n/a
Sad moment: waking without You after amazingly realistic dream romping
Protocol: n/a
Water: 4 liters
Corset: 24″ am, 24″ pm
Hood: n/a