Thursday, April 24, 2003
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
I took yesterday basically off after I got back from the base. I went shopping. I had lunch with LA. I cleaned house a little and pretty much cut loose. I needed that. I love that.
Today, I’ve wrapped soap, packed up incense, made a batch of liquid soap and written a story(woot!). Obviously, I’m feeling better.
My flowers are still beautiful. The windows are open because it’s glorious outside. Laundry is done and life is good.
The story I wrote explores something that I have a pretty intense interest in – age play. My interest in this changes, but it’s always there. Sometimes, I want a “daddy” and other times, it doesn’t need to be remotely that formal. The story I wrote today explores “daddy” to some extent. It was something I started writing in my head as I was falling asleep last night, and it was still there this morning, so I felt like I needed to “get there.”
I have a lot more thought to put into that particular “thing”.
Sunday, April 20, 2003
I was sleeping when the phone rang. Since I re-arranged the bedroom, the phone is clear across the room, and I didn’t feel like answering it. I got up shortly thereafter, went into the computer room to check the caller ID and it was C. (I should say here, that when I got home from dropping him off this morning, I left him a voice mail and explained why I was upset). He left me a voice mail, which said – he was sorry, that he loved me…
… and that the boat was leaving tomorrow for a week.
I don’t care upset you are with someone, when you face the idea of spending a week away from them, especially when there are unresolved issues – you crash.
I called him back, and luckily he was outside smoking cigarettes. He said he wanted to see me before he leaves. So I’m going to go to base in the morning and take his shaving kit and such (he didn’t take them – didn’t know they were leaving I guess).
When I called him this morning, I was crying. He doesn’t see or hear me cry much anymore. I tell people that I cried myself dry in my last relationship and there just aren’t any tears left in there, but that’s not true. They’re there. They just don’t appear very often. I don’t think I hold them in intentionally. I’m not sure why I don’t cry much.
Truthfully, I feel like a spoiled brat right now. I know I shouldn’t, because my needs and wants are as important as C’s needs and wants, but I think we’ve both been acting bratty. The stress is bad, and the tensions are high and neither one of us has what we want entirely. I’m not even sure either one of us has what we need. But again – we’re adults and we chose this life and in trying to make the best of it, we have a fuckload of lessons to learn about getting what we need without ripping each other apart.
Nothing like the prospect of a week alone to make you straighten your priorities out, eh?
… and that the boat was leaving tomorrow for a week.
I don’t care upset you are with someone, when you face the idea of spending a week away from them, especially when there are unresolved issues – you crash.
I called him back, and luckily he was outside smoking cigarettes. He said he wanted to see me before he leaves. So I’m going to go to base in the morning and take his shaving kit and such (he didn’t take them – didn’t know they were leaving I guess).
When I called him this morning, I was crying. He doesn’t see or hear me cry much anymore. I tell people that I cried myself dry in my last relationship and there just aren’t any tears left in there, but that’s not true. They’re there. They just don’t appear very often. I don’t think I hold them in intentionally. I’m not sure why I don’t cry much.
Truthfully, I feel like a spoiled brat right now. I know I shouldn’t, because my needs and wants are as important as C’s needs and wants, but I think we’ve both been acting bratty. The stress is bad, and the tensions are high and neither one of us has what we want entirely. I’m not even sure either one of us has what we need. But again – we’re adults and we chose this life and in trying to make the best of it, we have a fuckload of lessons to learn about getting what we need without ripping each other apart.
Nothing like the prospect of a week alone to make you straighten your priorities out, eh?
So far, my Easter Sunday has been a day of reflection. That’s not a typical Easter for me. Typical would be to spend it at my folks’ house, with my niece finding the eggs I’d hidden for her, stuffing myself with Peeps that have been aired out to the perfect rock-hard consistency, and then having a big ham dinner with my grandmother’s perfection ham gravy.
Obviously, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m home. Alone. C. has duty. And that’s probably for the best, because I’ve been using this day to … reflect.
I’ve been angry for almost 24 hours. Not typical for me. Normally, I fire up, then cool down relatively quickly. I’m not a sulker or a grudge-carrier. But when I woke up this morning, I was still angry. Why? Because C. snapped at me over something stupid, and I didn’t like his reason for doing it. I still don’t. But that’s not really the point.
The point is – I’m angry. Well, less now than I was this morning, but still I feel it at my heart. Anger is born of a fear. I know that just him snapping at me is not nearly enough to set me off into this 24 hour fit of venom. So today, I’ve been reflecting on what that fear might be. I’ve come up with a few possibilities.
The first is probably off the wall, but I felt it nonetheless, and have decided to share it, thinking that maybe another submissive/partner had felt it too. I give in too much. C is used to (I figure) getting his own way and having things done the way he wants them – all the time. I rarely (if ever) say no to him about anything. There is a fine line between submissive and doormat and I’m afraid of crossing that line at some point. I asked a friend recently if she ever said no to her husband when he asked for sex, and she said that she did sometimes. I never do. I’ve never uttered those words to C – or, hell – to anyone except my ex-husband. So then, in my head, I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t say no once in awhile. Maybe there’s no challenge here for C. And then I think – fuck that – that’s game playing and I refuse to do that. But there is validity there, somewhere.
The second is a little more plausible. C rarely has to ask me for anything. I usually have everything done. If he’s out of cigarettes, I buy them. If he’s out of beer, I buy it. Uniforms at the cleaners? I pick them up. Uniforms to be washed? I wash them. Upcoming holiday? I buy his family’s cards. Consider this: Last night, I was angry with him. I shut down Everquest just so I could get out of the room he was in. And yet – there I was – knowing he had duty today and knowing his cammies needed washed – and I washed them. Out of a sense of responsibility? Maybe. Because I’m trying to be perfect? More likely. In trying to ease his stress, I’ve created myself stress. Not of getting the stuff done, because frankly, it’s not that hard. But because he doesn’t have to ask me for anything, when I have to ask HIM for something, I feel needy. There is no even exchange of “you do this for me, and I’ll do that for you.”. I hate feeling needy. It makes me insane. And even then – when I ask for something that I want or need, I have expectations that it will be done – or at least an attempt will be made. When it isn’t, I am disappointed and – well, yes – angry. Yesterday was C’s only day off this week. He has not had one since last Sunday, and will not have another until next Saturday. His cold is still hanging on. I expressed a desire to go have lunch at Hardee’s on Saturday because I was hankerin’ for a Ham N Cheese. I also expressed a desire to go shopping for an exercise bike. He expressed a desire for extra sleep and Everquest. Both of which he got. I got neither of my requests. It was his only day off. I know. He’s still sick. I know. He needed to rest and relax. I know. I know. I know. Knowing doesn’t help erase my frustration – and my fear.
I feel selfish and I’m angry about that, too.
I feel better, having reflected on it, and getting at least a partial handle on why I’m upset. I feel better having written it, too. It’s only 3pm. There may be more after a nap (I didn’t sleep well at all. I’m not even sure I slept), and some further thought.
Obviously, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m home. Alone. C. has duty. And that’s probably for the best, because I’ve been using this day to … reflect.
I’ve been angry for almost 24 hours. Not typical for me. Normally, I fire up, then cool down relatively quickly. I’m not a sulker or a grudge-carrier. But when I woke up this morning, I was still angry. Why? Because C. snapped at me over something stupid, and I didn’t like his reason for doing it. I still don’t. But that’s not really the point.
The point is – I’m angry. Well, less now than I was this morning, but still I feel it at my heart. Anger is born of a fear. I know that just him snapping at me is not nearly enough to set me off into this 24 hour fit of venom. So today, I’ve been reflecting on what that fear might be. I’ve come up with a few possibilities.
The first is probably off the wall, but I felt it nonetheless, and have decided to share it, thinking that maybe another submissive/partner had felt it too. I give in too much. C is used to (I figure) getting his own way and having things done the way he wants them – all the time. I rarely (if ever) say no to him about anything. There is a fine line between submissive and doormat and I’m afraid of crossing that line at some point. I asked a friend recently if she ever said no to her husband when he asked for sex, and she said that she did sometimes. I never do. I’ve never uttered those words to C – or, hell – to anyone except my ex-husband. So then, in my head, I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t say no once in awhile. Maybe there’s no challenge here for C. And then I think – fuck that – that’s game playing and I refuse to do that. But there is validity there, somewhere.
The second is a little more plausible. C rarely has to ask me for anything. I usually have everything done. If he’s out of cigarettes, I buy them. If he’s out of beer, I buy it. Uniforms at the cleaners? I pick them up. Uniforms to be washed? I wash them. Upcoming holiday? I buy his family’s cards. Consider this: Last night, I was angry with him. I shut down Everquest just so I could get out of the room he was in. And yet – there I was – knowing he had duty today and knowing his cammies needed washed – and I washed them. Out of a sense of responsibility? Maybe. Because I’m trying to be perfect? More likely. In trying to ease his stress, I’ve created myself stress. Not of getting the stuff done, because frankly, it’s not that hard. But because he doesn’t have to ask me for anything, when I have to ask HIM for something, I feel needy. There is no even exchange of “you do this for me, and I’ll do that for you.”. I hate feeling needy. It makes me insane. And even then – when I ask for something that I want or need, I have expectations that it will be done – or at least an attempt will be made. When it isn’t, I am disappointed and – well, yes – angry. Yesterday was C’s only day off this week. He has not had one since last Sunday, and will not have another until next Saturday. His cold is still hanging on. I expressed a desire to go have lunch at Hardee’s on Saturday because I was hankerin’ for a Ham N Cheese. I also expressed a desire to go shopping for an exercise bike. He expressed a desire for extra sleep and Everquest. Both of which he got. I got neither of my requests. It was his only day off. I know. He’s still sick. I know. He needed to rest and relax. I know. I know. I know. Knowing doesn’t help erase my frustration – and my fear.
I feel selfish and I’m angry about that, too.
I feel better, having reflected on it, and getting at least a partial handle on why I’m upset. I feel better having written it, too. It’s only 3pm. There may be more after a nap (I didn’t sleep well at all. I’m not even sure I slept), and some further thought.
Friday, April 18, 2003
My cats drive me crazy. They must be fed at 9:30am every morning, even if there is food left in their bowl. Star will come in and howl and claw at my chair until I get up and go shake the food bag over their bowl. Bossy, bossy, bossy.
Got one batch of soap to do today, in Pipe Tobacco scent, for my dad’s best friend. He loves the stuff, and has been through the whole last batch I made. I like it, too, but for a man, not a woman. It’s a very masculine scent.
I’ve started trying to meditate daily. I know I should do it, and I am going to try to do it, but sometimes I get wrapped up in other stuff and don’t get to it. The other night, while meditating, I had visions of myself in a “school girl” scenario. That’s something I’ve never done before. Not sure how C would feel about that. Might have to ask. I also flowed into an idea for a story during the same session, but it had nothing to do with the school girl – ha ha. I really need to get writing. I feel it, the urge. But I just can’t seem to make myself do it.
Got one batch of soap to do today, in Pipe Tobacco scent, for my dad’s best friend. He loves the stuff, and has been through the whole last batch I made. I like it, too, but for a man, not a woman. It’s a very masculine scent.
I’ve started trying to meditate daily. I know I should do it, and I am going to try to do it, but sometimes I get wrapped up in other stuff and don’t get to it. The other night, while meditating, I had visions of myself in a “school girl” scenario. That’s something I’ve never done before. Not sure how C would feel about that. Might have to ask. I also flowed into an idea for a story during the same session, but it had nothing to do with the school girl – ha ha. I really need to get writing. I feel it, the urge. But I just can’t seem to make myself do it.
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Last night, I wanted to really relax. I needed to. Flipping through our digital music channels, I found a “Soundscape” channel that plays mostly New Age music and that did the trick. I meditated for awhile, read my runes, and drifted around for awhile. It was pleasant and peaceful and wonderful.
Meditating always brings things to a clearer view for me. I so recommend that for people. It’s hard, at first, to be able to let go and find your relaxed state, but once you’ve done it once, it gets easier and easier. It gives me perspective.
C and I have our whole lives together. Living in the day to day world, those minutes, hours and days we spend apart seem so important, but when you put it into perspective, they’re almost meaningless. Yes, the time we get to spend together is important, but missing a day here or there is not going to alter the way we feel about each other or the dynamic we have. I think above all, maybe it’s teaching us some patience lessons we both need to learn.
Dr. Atkins died. Evidently, he was in an accident and a coma. I’ve done the Atkin’s Diet several times through my life. It works well for me, but is so restricting that even after doing it for a year or more, I always crave potatoes and bread. I can live without the refined sugar, but I miss starches. When C goes on his six-monther, I think I’m going back on it for awhile. At least to get the first part of the weight off. It works well, and fast for me. I hate that I have a closet full of clothes that I can’t wear. I’ve been watching myself a lot lately, and not eating much crap, but I know that that’s not enough. I need to do more.
Meditating always brings things to a clearer view for me. I so recommend that for people. It’s hard, at first, to be able to let go and find your relaxed state, but once you’ve done it once, it gets easier and easier. It gives me perspective.
C and I have our whole lives together. Living in the day to day world, those minutes, hours and days we spend apart seem so important, but when you put it into perspective, they’re almost meaningless. Yes, the time we get to spend together is important, but missing a day here or there is not going to alter the way we feel about each other or the dynamic we have. I think above all, maybe it’s teaching us some patience lessons we both need to learn.
Dr. Atkins died. Evidently, he was in an accident and a coma. I’ve done the Atkin’s Diet several times through my life. It works well for me, but is so restricting that even after doing it for a year or more, I always crave potatoes and bread. I can live without the refined sugar, but I miss starches. When C goes on his six-monther, I think I’m going back on it for awhile. At least to get the first part of the weight off. It works well, and fast for me. I hate that I have a closet full of clothes that I can’t wear. I’ve been watching myself a lot lately, and not eating much crap, but I know that that’s not enough. I need to do more.
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
I had to take C to base this morning before 6am. I got up way too early. But it’s the price I pay if I want a car for the next 2 days while he’s on the boat. He’s got a cold, too, and feels like shit. If it ain’t one thing around here, it’ll just be something else.
I know I seem to complain a lot. But let me make something clear. All it is is venting. I love my husband. I knew when I married him what he was – who he was – and that the Navy was priority one, at least for the next several years. I knew we’d have separations and I knew he’d be working shit hours for shit money. I don’t have to like what happens, but I do have to take responsibility for placing myself in this situation – and if I had to do it over again, I’d do the same thing. C and I are – (and he dislikes this word I think) – soul-mates – destiny – what have you. We were together three times before we finally got it right (third times a charm, eh?) and I know that I’m supposed to be with him. Maybe the universe is testing our resolve. I dunno. But I do know that he’s the one I wanna be with.
I don’t have everything I want. I don’t think anyone does. I accept that some of my needs fall on the back burner sometimes. So do his. We’re not martyrs, as he reminds me, but we are adults and we did accept this lifestyle we’re living. We have to try to find ways to creatively make sure our needs get met. It’s an experiment in time management – heh.
I know I seem to complain a lot. But let me make something clear. All it is is venting. I love my husband. I knew when I married him what he was – who he was – and that the Navy was priority one, at least for the next several years. I knew we’d have separations and I knew he’d be working shit hours for shit money. I don’t have to like what happens, but I do have to take responsibility for placing myself in this situation – and if I had to do it over again, I’d do the same thing. C and I are – (and he dislikes this word I think) – soul-mates – destiny – what have you. We were together three times before we finally got it right (third times a charm, eh?) and I know that I’m supposed to be with him. Maybe the universe is testing our resolve. I dunno. But I do know that he’s the one I wanna be with.
I don’t have everything I want. I don’t think anyone does. I accept that some of my needs fall on the back burner sometimes. So do his. We’re not martyrs, as he reminds me, but we are adults and we did accept this lifestyle we’re living. We have to try to find ways to creatively make sure our needs get met. It’s an experiment in time management – heh.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
I feel better today. I think maybe it’s because I crashed hard last night and nearly slept through C waking me up to tell me goodbye. I remember having very vivid dreams but don’t remember much of what they were about. And I remember feeling very rested when I woke up. I did a short Reiki session on myself last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch during Buffy. I needed that, I guess.
I have so much on my mind lately. Much of it is sex-related, but then again, a whole lot of it isn’t. I do it to myself. No one forces it on me. But finding a way to get out from under it isn’t easy.
The bedroom looks nice. I told C last night I wanted a headboard and footboard for the bed, when we can afford it, since the one we have now is broken. I would like to have a sleigh bed, or a mission-style bed, I think.
I’m working on candle testing today with some 8oz tins I have, and making up a new body butter recipe. I’ll see how it turns out.
More later. I want to talk a little more about bondage and some other “responsibility relieving” stuff.
I have so much on my mind lately. Much of it is sex-related, but then again, a whole lot of it isn’t. I do it to myself. No one forces it on me. But finding a way to get out from under it isn’t easy.
The bedroom looks nice. I told C last night I wanted a headboard and footboard for the bed, when we can afford it, since the one we have now is broken. I would like to have a sleigh bed, or a mission-style bed, I think.
I’m working on candle testing today with some 8oz tins I have, and making up a new body butter recipe. I’ll see how it turns out.
More later. I want to talk a little more about bondage and some other “responsibility relieving” stuff.
Monday, April 14, 2003
I rearranged the bedroom to work off some energy. I’ve been wanting to do it for quite some time, so that worked out well – except – the movers busted our headboard last time we moved, and now, it really needs to be replaced. At least the furniture is all moved. All I gotta do is go in and clean up after C. He has crap everywhere. I’m a slob who married a slob. This is not good.
All the books tell you that your bedroom should be comfortable and a sanctuary from normal every day life. But because it’s messy, I have a hard time relaxing in there. I’m going to have to work on that.
For people who don’t know me well, I’m a control freak. One of the things that attracted me to dominance and submission is the pretext that it would give me the ability to let some of that control go, but because of how things are right now with C and the boat, there’s very very little remotely d/s-y stuff going on around here and I’m feeling that control freak come front and fucking center. It’s not really anyone’s fault I guess. It’s just the way things are right now.
I gotta tell you, I’m really damn tired of saying that.
Since this is leading there anyway, I’ll just touch on what I wanted to write about bondage awhile back. For me, bondage is the ultimate release from responsibility. I feel so ultimately responsible for so many things that really are not my responsibility anyway, that for the short/long time I’m in bondage, that all goes away – the real responsibility and the imagined responsibility. I don’t have a choice; I have to cut it loose. Slap a set of cuffs on me once in awhile and tell me not to move – hey – I’m good. The headspace that goes along with bondage for me is so fucking relaxing and freeing. It just lets me BE. Not BE working, not BE thinking, not BE cleaning – just BE. Add a little overt dominance to that and I’m floating somewhere up in my “inner real self” and loving life. Thing is, it just doesn’t happen right now. There are too many things that take precedence over it. It’s so far down the list that I think it might have fallen completely off the list.
Jokingly last night (I think), C called me a cranky bitch. Yea, I am cranky sometimes. It’s because I’m stressed. And I’m stressed because there are too many things – real and imagined – that I’m responsible for that are not going the way I want them to. The whole thing is one vicious fucking circle and I feel like we’re on the merry-go-round from hell. Between the boat, my grandfather having surgery last week, my sister the total bitch from hell, not working, not being able to write two sentences fiction and string them together, paying my taxes and not being able to control things in general, I just can’t seem to find two minutes of consistent peace anymore. Everything is pressure. I feel some days like I’m going to implode. LA reminded me to go to Tri-Care and get my Xanax prescription refilled. I really need to do that. I hate hate hate medicating myself out of these moods, but sometimes, I feel like it’s my last and best option. I have one Xanax left. I’m going to try to get in there this week, after I apply for unemployment and get my social security card changed. I’ve got to start getting this piddly shit done. Maybe it’ll help.
I’m going to go watch brain dead TV. Maybe that’ll help, too.
All the books tell you that your bedroom should be comfortable and a sanctuary from normal every day life. But because it’s messy, I have a hard time relaxing in there. I’m going to have to work on that.
For people who don’t know me well, I’m a control freak. One of the things that attracted me to dominance and submission is the pretext that it would give me the ability to let some of that control go, but because of how things are right now with C and the boat, there’s very very little remotely d/s-y stuff going on around here and I’m feeling that control freak come front and fucking center. It’s not really anyone’s fault I guess. It’s just the way things are right now.
I gotta tell you, I’m really damn tired of saying that.
Since this is leading there anyway, I’ll just touch on what I wanted to write about bondage awhile back. For me, bondage is the ultimate release from responsibility. I feel so ultimately responsible for so many things that really are not my responsibility anyway, that for the short/long time I’m in bondage, that all goes away – the real responsibility and the imagined responsibility. I don’t have a choice; I have to cut it loose. Slap a set of cuffs on me once in awhile and tell me not to move – hey – I’m good. The headspace that goes along with bondage for me is so fucking relaxing and freeing. It just lets me BE. Not BE working, not BE thinking, not BE cleaning – just BE. Add a little overt dominance to that and I’m floating somewhere up in my “inner real self” and loving life. Thing is, it just doesn’t happen right now. There are too many things that take precedence over it. It’s so far down the list that I think it might have fallen completely off the list.
Jokingly last night (I think), C called me a cranky bitch. Yea, I am cranky sometimes. It’s because I’m stressed. And I’m stressed because there are too many things – real and imagined – that I’m responsible for that are not going the way I want them to. The whole thing is one vicious fucking circle and I feel like we’re on the merry-go-round from hell. Between the boat, my grandfather having surgery last week, my sister the total bitch from hell, not working, not being able to write two sentences fiction and string them together, paying my taxes and not being able to control things in general, I just can’t seem to find two minutes of consistent peace anymore. Everything is pressure. I feel some days like I’m going to implode. LA reminded me to go to Tri-Care and get my Xanax prescription refilled. I really need to do that. I hate hate hate medicating myself out of these moods, but sometimes, I feel like it’s my last and best option. I have one Xanax left. I’m going to try to get in there this week, after I apply for unemployment and get my social security card changed. I’ve got to start getting this piddly shit done. Maybe it’ll help.
I’m going to go watch brain dead TV. Maybe that’ll help, too.
I just got done doing my taxes. I feel like I’m having a panic attack. It was much more than I expected and while I have the money in the bank to pay them, it’s about all I have, so I now have to either go back to work, or apply for unemployment. Ick. I guess I’ll look for a job and apply for unemployment while I’m looking. We’re not broke, but we’re not rolling in it, either. I just updated my resume. The idea of going back to programming does not excite me at all. I burnt myself out on it – again – and would love to find a new line of work, but besides writing, there isn’t anything else I enjoy doing that would pay enough.
…pause
un-pause…
Went to the store to get cat food, soda and cigarettes. Essentials in this house. Diet Pepsi is life, and life is Diet Pepsi. Coffee, too. And pretzels. Low fat/no fat food. Must lose weight. Must feel better about self-image. Must not add being fat to the list of depressive subjects recently.
Must cheer up.
…pause
un-pause…
Went to the store to get cat food, soda and cigarettes. Essentials in this house. Diet Pepsi is life, and life is Diet Pepsi. Coffee, too. And pretzels. Low fat/no fat food. Must lose weight. Must feel better about self-image. Must not add being fat to the list of depressive subjects recently.
Must cheer up.
Didn’t get to write at all over the weekend. Was busy with other stuff, but have a lot to talk about over the next few days, so I’ll be giving y’all plenty to read.
That is, after I do my taxes. Ugh.
By the way, anytime you want to leave me comments about something you read here, click the “comment” link at the bottom of the post, or drop me an email.
More after I’ve emptied my bank account to the IRS.
That is, after I do my taxes. Ugh.
By the way, anytime you want to leave me comments about something you read here, click the “comment” link at the bottom of the post, or drop me an email.
More after I’ve emptied my bank account to the IRS.
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Yesterday was a bit of a better day. I started coming out of the funk somewhat, though I still feel it hinging there, on the edge. It’s not like the frustration is gone or anything, but I’ve pushed it back a ways so that I can concentrate on a few other things. This morning, I feel the same.
I’m making some lotion this morning. I have a few more batches of soap to make, too, but I want to get the lotion done, as the list is much longer. I can’t wrap any of the soap I have sitting out, so I need something to occupy some time. I also have a new body butter recipe to formulate – will probably wait til next week to do that.
My dad called last night. They took my grandfather to the hospital – he had some very bad blockage in his arteries, and they put some stints in. Dad says he’s doing pretty well and is as cranky as ever. It reminds me how lucky I am at 38 years old to still have two of my grandparents. Course, it also reminds me that my sister is the bitch-beast from hell, but hey.
I finally got the other paddle I won off of Fetish Auctioneer (http://www.fetishauctioneer2.com/) awhile back. Its lexan, and I’ve hidden it. It’s a nasty little thing (not so little) and I’m not ready to give it to C. yet. Maybe when things calm down, and we can spend some time relaxing. Right now, if I give it to him, it’s going to just add more pressure on top of what’s already there.
I’ve been doing a lot of reading about spanking/domestic discipline (although most of this is female spanking male so it’s not applicable)/paddling, etc. It’s so weird, because you’d think that this is something I’d have been “in to” for a long time, because it fits in with the whole age-play fantasy thing I have, but because of reasons I’ve already stated (and probably a few I haven’t found yet), I blocked it completely out of what I wanted. I may not be doing this as much for C as I thought I was – it may be just “time” for me to get past whatever fucked-up thing blocked this out for me, and let it in.
I want to talk about bondage but I’ve got to go check the lotion. More later probably.
I’m making some lotion this morning. I have a few more batches of soap to make, too, but I want to get the lotion done, as the list is much longer. I can’t wrap any of the soap I have sitting out, so I need something to occupy some time. I also have a new body butter recipe to formulate – will probably wait til next week to do that.
My dad called last night. They took my grandfather to the hospital – he had some very bad blockage in his arteries, and they put some stints in. Dad says he’s doing pretty well and is as cranky as ever. It reminds me how lucky I am at 38 years old to still have two of my grandparents. Course, it also reminds me that my sister is the bitch-beast from hell, but hey.
I finally got the other paddle I won off of Fetish Auctioneer (http://www.fetishauctioneer2.com/) awhile back. Its lexan, and I’ve hidden it. It’s a nasty little thing (not so little) and I’m not ready to give it to C. yet. Maybe when things calm down, and we can spend some time relaxing. Right now, if I give it to him, it’s going to just add more pressure on top of what’s already there.
I’ve been doing a lot of reading about spanking/domestic discipline (although most of this is female spanking male so it’s not applicable)/paddling, etc. It’s so weird, because you’d think that this is something I’d have been “in to” for a long time, because it fits in with the whole age-play fantasy thing I have, but because of reasons I’ve already stated (and probably a few I haven’t found yet), I blocked it completely out of what I wanted. I may not be doing this as much for C as I thought I was – it may be just “time” for me to get past whatever fucked-up thing blocked this out for me, and let it in.
I want to talk about bondage but I’ve got to go check the lotion. More later probably.
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Lots of time to think the last 24 hours – cleaning takes no brainpower, neither does watching “Friends” or “Married with Children”. Lots of time to think.
Here’s my conclusion: C’s here, but he’s not here. His mind – from what I can tell – and it may just be subconsciously – is still on the boat. He’s quall-ing for his dolphins. He’s in school this week. He’s learning so much new stuff that even when he’s here, he ain’t.
The problem, then, lies in my expectations. When he’s home, I expect he’ll BE home. Obviously, that’s not working out so well.
Expectations are hard to adjust. I’m working on that, but it’s a difficult thing to do.
Honestly, to my best, I try to be as supportive as I can. When something needs to be done, I just *do it. When we’re low on cigarettes, when his beer is gone, when the laundry needs done, I just do it. I don’t carry on about it (I don’t think) and I don’t demand thanks for it (I don’t think) – I just figure that doing that stuff is doing my part in supporting how hard he’s working. And I do okay with that most times. It feels good to be there for him and to handle the minutia. I guess maybe – and this is me thinking on paper – that my mind hits a “full” point with that, and demands some direct attention from him before I can “empty” and start doing it all over again.
Writing that, it sounds feeble and childish, and I’m pissed off about that, but I’m not going to erase it.
Expressing my needs is not something I do easily. I don’t know if it was the way I was raised, or a fear of being judged “too needy” that keeps me from being able to do this easily, but I was almost petrified to do this until I moved in with C the first time. He broke through some of that. My relationship after “the first time with C” was with another man who – sadly – did reject my needs often for his own. The harder he pushed his, the more whiny I got about mine until finally it destroyed my feelings for him (and his for me I assume) all together. So, back with C again, I try to remember that it’s safe for me to do that with him. Problem is, right now, it’s *not really safe *right now*. There isn’t a hell of a lot of room in his life for my needs – he’s focused on his own with the Navy – as it should be. But fact is, that suppression causes problems. They may not come out often, and they may not come out the way I’d like them to, but they sure as hell *do come out. There’s gotta be a better way to handle this than the way I am handling it. I’ve just got to put some thought into what that is.
Here’s my conclusion: C’s here, but he’s not here. His mind – from what I can tell – and it may just be subconsciously – is still on the boat. He’s quall-ing for his dolphins. He’s in school this week. He’s learning so much new stuff that even when he’s here, he ain’t.
The problem, then, lies in my expectations. When he’s home, I expect he’ll BE home. Obviously, that’s not working out so well.
Expectations are hard to adjust. I’m working on that, but it’s a difficult thing to do.
Honestly, to my best, I try to be as supportive as I can. When something needs to be done, I just *do it. When we’re low on cigarettes, when his beer is gone, when the laundry needs done, I just do it. I don’t carry on about it (I don’t think) and I don’t demand thanks for it (I don’t think) – I just figure that doing that stuff is doing my part in supporting how hard he’s working. And I do okay with that most times. It feels good to be there for him and to handle the minutia. I guess maybe – and this is me thinking on paper – that my mind hits a “full” point with that, and demands some direct attention from him before I can “empty” and start doing it all over again.
Writing that, it sounds feeble and childish, and I’m pissed off about that, but I’m not going to erase it.
Expressing my needs is not something I do easily. I don’t know if it was the way I was raised, or a fear of being judged “too needy” that keeps me from being able to do this easily, but I was almost petrified to do this until I moved in with C the first time. He broke through some of that. My relationship after “the first time with C” was with another man who – sadly – did reject my needs often for his own. The harder he pushed his, the more whiny I got about mine until finally it destroyed my feelings for him (and his for me I assume) all together. So, back with C again, I try to remember that it’s safe for me to do that with him. Problem is, right now, it’s *not really safe *right now*. There isn’t a hell of a lot of room in his life for my needs – he’s focused on his own with the Navy – as it should be. But fact is, that suppression causes problems. They may not come out often, and they may not come out the way I’d like them to, but they sure as hell *do come out. There’s gotta be a better way to handle this than the way I am handling it. I’ve just got to put some thought into what that is.
Monday, April 07, 2003
Well, despite what I said earlier, I’ve decided to go into some of what I’m thinking about and why I haven’t been writing. Maybe it’ll make more sense if I actually put it into complete sentences and paragraphs.
Here are the main feelings. I’ll dissect them in a bit:
Neglected
Over-worked and under-paid
Lonely
Introspective
Self-centered
That’s a start.
C’s been working 12 hours days most days of the week. Which means, since we got the plates for the car and he’s driving himself again, I see him for maybe 30 minutes before he goes to bed. During that time, he’s de-stressing and trying to unwind and it’s not “talk” time. He’s still doing the 36-hour stints every four days as well. This weekend, he went in Friday morning and I picked him up Saturday morning (in a foul mood). We came home, messed around on computers for awhile, and then he took a 4 hour nap. He got up, and we went to dinner with friends (he was still in an odd mood – I won’t say foul, but definitely odd), had a nice time, came home, and shortly thereafter, he went to bed. Sunday morning, we went to have breakfast with out-of-town friends, came home, played Everquest until dinner – had dinner – watched TV for awhile, and he went to bed.
So, yes, we spent time together – in the same room/car/restaurant. I shouldn’t have anything to complain about. But inside, I’m screaming. I feel selfish and needy and I hate that fucking feeling almost more than anything else. When I’m in that mood, anything will set me off.
One other thing that happened this weekend is I did something I never thought I’d be able to do. I asked C to spank me. I never thought I’d get past that, and do it. Thing is, as you can see from the itinerary above, he didn’t. So now, this will probably go on the pile of everything else “I never thought I’d be able to do”, and I probably won’t do it again, because it yielded less than positive results this time. There are a couple other things I’ve done – that he asked for – that he doesn’t know about yet – that I probably won’t be able to tell him about/do for quite awhile because of the headspace I find myself in now. That just makes it worse.
This morning I get up and the trash is still here. He has the car; so I can’t take it to the dumpster. It’s been sitting on the front porch for a couple of days and for some reason, I got incredibly pissed off about that. His boot-polishing stuff was on the living room floor. I put it away. He has duty tomorrow, and his cammies are in the laundry basket. I washed them. The living room looked like shit. I cleaned it. The kitchen floor looks like shit. I cleaned it. The rest of the laundry needs done. I’m doing it. I’m doing all the little stuff he doesn’t have time to do, just like I should be, but for some reason today, I’m feeling really pissed off about doing it. I’m not working right now. I still have money in the bank from the last job I did, and we’re paying bills with it, so it’s not like I’m not contributing.
I should be writing. I promised myself that when I took this time off from work that I’d write. Am I writing? No, unless you count the blogger. I do not have any headspace to write.
It’s not so much that I’m mad at C about any of this. I don’t expect him to be superman. And it’s not so much that I’m mad at the Navy about it, because – well – this is his job. And it’s not so much that I’m mad at myself about this, although I’m a little pissed off that I’m feeling the way I do – because frankly, I have every right to feel neglected – because I am. But it’s not malicious. It’s just the way it is right now.
So I guess what it boils down to is that I’m frustrated beyond fuck and I can’t get past it. I’d like to blame it on PMS but not everything can be blamed on that. I’m sure there are other things contributing to this mood. I’m typically not a whining-type of person. But lately, I just feel too much stacked between where I am, and where I want to be. And it’s hard. I’m just not as patient as I wish I were.
All right. Enough of that.
Here are the main feelings. I’ll dissect them in a bit:
Neglected
Over-worked and under-paid
Lonely
Introspective
Self-centered
That’s a start.
C’s been working 12 hours days most days of the week. Which means, since we got the plates for the car and he’s driving himself again, I see him for maybe 30 minutes before he goes to bed. During that time, he’s de-stressing and trying to unwind and it’s not “talk” time. He’s still doing the 36-hour stints every four days as well. This weekend, he went in Friday morning and I picked him up Saturday morning (in a foul mood). We came home, messed around on computers for awhile, and then he took a 4 hour nap. He got up, and we went to dinner with friends (he was still in an odd mood – I won’t say foul, but definitely odd), had a nice time, came home, and shortly thereafter, he went to bed. Sunday morning, we went to have breakfast with out-of-town friends, came home, played Everquest until dinner – had dinner – watched TV for awhile, and he went to bed.
So, yes, we spent time together – in the same room/car/restaurant. I shouldn’t have anything to complain about. But inside, I’m screaming. I feel selfish and needy and I hate that fucking feeling almost more than anything else. When I’m in that mood, anything will set me off.
One other thing that happened this weekend is I did something I never thought I’d be able to do. I asked C to spank me. I never thought I’d get past that, and do it. Thing is, as you can see from the itinerary above, he didn’t. So now, this will probably go on the pile of everything else “I never thought I’d be able to do”, and I probably won’t do it again, because it yielded less than positive results this time. There are a couple other things I’ve done – that he asked for – that he doesn’t know about yet – that I probably won’t be able to tell him about/do for quite awhile because of the headspace I find myself in now. That just makes it worse.
This morning I get up and the trash is still here. He has the car; so I can’t take it to the dumpster. It’s been sitting on the front porch for a couple of days and for some reason, I got incredibly pissed off about that. His boot-polishing stuff was on the living room floor. I put it away. He has duty tomorrow, and his cammies are in the laundry basket. I washed them. The living room looked like shit. I cleaned it. The kitchen floor looks like shit. I cleaned it. The rest of the laundry needs done. I’m doing it. I’m doing all the little stuff he doesn’t have time to do, just like I should be, but for some reason today, I’m feeling really pissed off about doing it. I’m not working right now. I still have money in the bank from the last job I did, and we’re paying bills with it, so it’s not like I’m not contributing.
I should be writing. I promised myself that when I took this time off from work that I’d write. Am I writing? No, unless you count the blogger. I do not have any headspace to write.
It’s not so much that I’m mad at C about any of this. I don’t expect him to be superman. And it’s not so much that I’m mad at the Navy about it, because – well – this is his job. And it’s not so much that I’m mad at myself about this, although I’m a little pissed off that I’m feeling the way I do – because frankly, I have every right to feel neglected – because I am. But it’s not malicious. It’s just the way it is right now.
So I guess what it boils down to is that I’m frustrated beyond fuck and I can’t get past it. I’d like to blame it on PMS but not everything can be blamed on that. I’m sure there are other things contributing to this mood. I’m typically not a whining-type of person. But lately, I just feel too much stacked between where I am, and where I want to be. And it’s hard. I’m just not as patient as I wish I were.
All right. Enough of that.
I know, I know. I’ve not been writing. There are several reasons for that, most of which wouldn’t matter to anyone reading this, so I won’t detail them. Suffice it to say that my brain has been working overtime and hasn’t left any headspace for writing.
I’ve got several topics I want to work on, so I’ll come back to writing this week – maybe even today since I’ll be doing laundry and cleaning house. Just know that – I’m BACK!
I’ve got several topics I want to work on, so I’ll come back to writing this week – maybe even today since I’ll be doing laundry and cleaning house. Just know that – I’m BACK!
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