the only way out is through

After I wrote my last post, I had a really good day. My mind was clear, I felt like my old self again. Today, however has been a different story. It started out good, I was tired, but fine. As I began to do things around the house and plan my day, it hit me. I felt it slowly creeping in, waves of anxiety and fear. Thoughts and memories of the past crowded my mind. I tried to push the feelings down, I took deep breaths and reasoned with myself. I knew the fear wasn't real or at least wasn't justified. I knew I was safe. I felt like I was losing my mind, my body reacted physically to my emotions. My pulse raced, my chest tightened up, I became nauseous. I wanted to hide or run away. Even the dogs reacted to me. I was still trying to go through the motions and do things around the house, but I must have been sending out the same energy I was feeling. They became anxious, they crowded around me, they tried to comfort me. Their actions made me worse, I was trying to hide the way I was feeling. I did not want to be touched, not even by them. I began to shake, I started sobbing, eventually I threw up. I absolutely recognized this feeling, it was how I felt for the greater part of a year, right before I managed to break away from him. The more I tried to fight it, the worse it got. I finally sat down and remembered, I remembered the feelings, I remembered the abuse, I remembered the isolation and being discounted by anyone I had the courage to try and tell. Since the abuse was mostly sexual, I never told anyone the details. (I did tell some people that I was afraid of him and I wanted to leave.) As I sat there and remembered, I trembled and cried and pulled myself into a tight ball. I made myself feel it, I made myself think about it, and then gradually the anxiety lessened, the fear dissipated and finally it all was over. I felt better, I felt stronger, I was me again. I am sure that it is not all over, but I understand now that I will have to go through it. I will have to go back and resolve it. I stuffed all of it deep inside for a long time. I have faced it and let some of it out over the past few years with J. He has helped me with that process. But now it is all surfacing, I will need to do this and do this alone. The only way out is through.

I debated about sharing all of it here. I wasn't sure I could put it out there and actually write it all down, but I think that I need to. If you do not want to know any details (though it is not graphic and I have not included many details) or if you disagree with my decision to write this, stop reading now. I do not want sympathy, nor do I want judgment, this all happened a long time ago. This is my story and I have held it inside me for too long. I may write more about it later, I have written some about it in the past, but as I write it here it is no longer living inside of me. I am not ashamed any more, it wasn't my fault. The shame is his, though he will never accept it. He has never acknowledged any wrong doing or showed remorse in any way. I haven't had contact with him in a while, but he still calls my son whenever he needs money. I am letting this go a little at a time. Each time it spills out from me, there is more room inside me. Each time I heal more. Maybe someday, I will be whole.

I had felt completely isolated and alone, I was terrified. I was isolated from my friends and family, he had convinced me that no one cared about me. I journaled at the time, then as now it helped me cope and work through things. It was my only confessional, it was how I held onto my reality, rather than his lies. He found my journal and read it, he twisted my words around and accused me of cheating on him, sabotaging him and lying to him. After this happened, I threw out all of my journals, I only started writing again a few years ago. Even during the years after the divorce, when I was single and alone, I was always afraid to keep a journal. I was afraid someone would find it and use it against me. He lied about everything, even things that didn't matter. If I confronted him about any of the lies he blew up and berated me and by the end he had me apologizing for doubting him. He was using a lot of drugs at the time, he was stealing from employers, friends, family and me. He was abusing me and threatening my son. We went to counseling twice during that time. He would only go to "Christian" counseling and he always did most of the talking. The first time, the woman was a licensed counselor, but she didn't talk to either of us separately. After listening to us (mostly him), she advised that the main problem was my unruly son and that I needed to be more supportive of R (my ex) and his attempts to parent my son and make the relationship work. (My son was about 7 at the time, and my ex was very jealous of my relationship with him). The second attempt at counseling was with a "pastor" of a very large evangelical church. He was also supposedly licensed as a counselor. My ex was much more honest that time, if you can call his act honest (think Jimmy Swaggart...I have sinned). By then he had been in trouble with the law and been fired from several jobs for stealing. He still did most of the talking, he confessed to all the things he had done (those things that he had been caught doing), he cried, he said he was sorry. That counselor did speak with us separately. When alone, I told him that I wanted out, I wanted to get away. I told him I didn't have any resources to do it and I felt I had no support system. The counselor told me that I needed to stay, that R was sorry for what he had done and needed me to stand by him and support him. He told me that R's salvation and redemption depended on me. Basically, I was told to be the "godly" wife and stand by my man. The church offered financial help to us, not me. No mention or acknowledgment was made my wish to leave and get away, no offer was made to help me do so.

He did not beat me, I never had any visible bruises or injuries. His abuse was threats, intimidation and sexual. He hurt me many times during sex, that was the only way he could get off. He often could not maintain an erection unless he was hurting me and when he still couldn't he blamed me. That was when he told me I was a whore, that I was disgusting. That was when he would hold me down, or hold a knife at my throat, and urinate on me. Sometimes he would choke me, though he often did that when he was raping me anyway. He would spit on me and tell me I was a worthless slut, that I would give it up to anyone. Then he would tell me how I had ruined sex for him by wanting all kinds of perversions (nothing I had ever wanted, but all the things he did to me).

My last attempt to rid myself of him (before I actually was successful) was after he had been charged with forging prescriptions and extortion (he was blackmailing a pharmacist to obtain drugs). After his preliminary court hearing, he was released. I would not let him back in the house. I reasoned that he would not force his way in or retaliate against me, because he was already in trouble and it was all pending. He was staying at a seedy hotel near my home. He called me constantly, begging and threatening, trying to get me to take him back. One day he called and told me that he was going to kill himself if I didn't come talk to him. He told me that our son would never forgive me and it would all be my fault. I did not go, I called the police and reported the suicide threat. Officers went and talked to him and then came to see me. They told me that he just wanted to speak with me and why wouldn't I go? I told them I was afraid of him. They asked if he had ever hit me or if I had ever filed charges on him. I told them no, I did not want to tell them what the abuse consisted of, it was shameful for me. They talked me into going to see him, he ended up coming home with me. I am really not sure why I let him come back, other than I just wasn't strong enough at the time to stand up to him face to face.

Obviously, I did get away, I did get divorced. I was able to do that when he was sentenced to a year in prison. I still only could do it with my father's help. My family still does not know of the abuse, they only know about his criminal activity and that he went to jail.

Working through it

I had planned for my next post to be something that J requested me to write. Truthfully, I have tried to put that post together, but I am very distracted by what is going on with me and I haven't been able to concentrate enough to comply with His request. I truly appreciated the responses to my last post and those comments (along with Gillette's post) have given me some sense of my current feelings. I am still struggling with putting my thoughts into words, but I am just going to forge ahead and ramble through this. I hope the following makes sense.

I realize the emotional nature of my being lately has a lot to do with the hormonal fluctuations going on inside of me. I also know that this is not abnormal, but it is quite disconcerting. In Gillette's post, she says...

The most exciting piece I discovered is how hormones affect the brain. All the hormones that are dominant in the reproductive period of life are geared toward creating a chemical proclivity for balance and peace. Opioids are released, literally covering up the paths to our memories. These affect the "primitive" brain- the temporal lobe, the amygdyla, the hippocampus...all places of our deep unconscious stuff. We literally put not only our lives, but also our feelings, on hold to create a safe and secure hearth and home for our progeny....even if we don't have any.

When we start our hormonal shifts (whether during PMS, postpartum depression or perimenopause), those hormones are no longer dominant.. Others that trigger the unconscious areas of the brain increase. Fewer opioids mean memories and the subconscious stuff not dealt with in the past are no longer buried. When we are stressed in life, whether from outer shaiza in our lives or simply because we respond intensely to life, a feedback loop ensues: We get stressed...which affects our hormones...which brings us more stress...which affects us even more.

This describes exactly what I am experiencing. I am feeling and having to work through all the trauma from my past that I had buried in my subconscious for so long. For the past three years, J has helped me face unresolved issues from my past. He slowly dismantled the walls I had put in place to protect me. Their protective value had been questionable, but they had allowed me to avoid any intimacy and pain for a long time. I suppose the only thing they had protected me from was myself. Even as my walls came down, the memories of those experiences were pretty muted. I acknowledged what had happened in the past, but specific memories and the emotions surrounding them were fuzzy. More and more memories have surfaced, especially over this past year. Those memories were painful, but it still was as if they had happened to someone else. I could usually think about them objectively and I spent little time reflecting on the actual experience or exploring how I had felt at the time.

Little by little those experiences and those feelings are seeping back into my consciousness. Snippets of recall pop into my mind, flashbacks of moments, specific minutia, mere minutes of a memory. Sometimes there is a trigger, other times a snapshot just appears like a flash from a camera. I have witnessed the progression of my emotions from that time long ago. The hurt, the fear, the betrayal, the anger, the confusion that all culminated in nothingness. I became nothing, I felt nothing. I retreated within myself, if I just condescended it would be over soon. I was numb and compliant. Lay there and let it happen, don't fight, be quiet and he'll be done with you and leave you alone for now. That disassociation outlived the walls I had built. I remembered, but I was still numb. That novocaine is wearing off and I am left feeling prickly and stingy as the pain seeps back in slowly...

I will write more as I am able. This is all I can express for now, it is a difficult process. I am working through it.

Losing my mind

I have not written here in a very long time, even before that my posts were pretty sporadic. I keep trying to write and deleting my posts. I cannot seem to follow any thought to the end. I start to write and before I can finish, I have completely forgotten what I am trying to say. My entire life has become this way. My mind is racing most of the time, and yet the thoughts race out of my head before I can act on them. I have been fighting a general feeling of restlessness and discontent. That is very unlike me. I am not sure why I have been feeling this way. Possibly the stress I am under, maybe hormones, maybe I am slowly slipping into insanity, at least that is what it feels like much of the time. My doctor attributes it to the first two reasons, but it seems that everything that has been wrong with me for the past ten years was (at least originally) blamed on hormones. If this is the onset of menopause, I wish it would just hurry up and be over with. I could save a ton of money on feminine hygiene products as well as regain my sanity. The fact that I have not experienced any other symptoms (physical) doesn't seem to matter to anyone but me.

I am struggling to keep up with things at work. My work is not suffering, but I have had to resort to all kinds of lists and reminders to myself that are not usually needed. My housework has fallen behind, I get sidetracked so easily I just sort of wander around and find it difficult to finish anything. I write when bills are due on my calender and then check it 10 times a day, because I cannot remember what I just looked at. I check my bank account several times a day, because, I either forgot I payed something or question if my balance in the checkbook is correct. Last weekend I turned the iron on to heat up and my son found it three days later still on (and no, I never did my ironing). It has only gotten worse as I no longer trust myself to know or remember anything. When I do remember, I doubt my own memory.

I have started meditating, which seems to be helping minimally. It is teaching me to slow down and practice mindfulness. I used to be able to multi-task very well. I sort of went on auto-pilot and got everything done. Now I must concentrate and think things through slowly. I try to be aware of what I am doing and not be thinking ahead to the next thing. I have been trying to get more sleep, but sleep is very elusive lately. As soon as I lay down, my mind races even more. I have begun exercising, that is helping very much for the few hours after a really good work-out. I am calm, my mind is sharp and I feel good. However, even if I work-out everyday, the results (for my mind) only last a short time. (Yes, I know, the results on my waistline and hips take longer to show up and last longer.) I have been eating better and eating small amounts several times through-out the day. (I thought some of this might be due to drops in my blood sugar, that is why I changed my eating patterns.) Occasionally, getting some protein in my system helps with concentration and restlessness, but not enough to think that is the reason.

The best thing I have found that helps me focus and slows my mind, is J. Just talking to Him helps some, but when He asserts Himself and gives me directives and plants thoughts in my head, I immediately respond. The chattering stops, I slow down, all else is off my radar, only J remains in my head. It has been a month since He was last here. He was out of the country and since He has been back, He is busy and tired. We talk write and chat frequently, but I miss Him very much. I think about Him all the time, but when I get very restless I try and fantasize about being with Him. I think about Him spank me or play intensely with me. I think that He needs to get my attention, to drive all the other thoughts and worries out of my head. I think I need the release of those endorphins, I need to surrender, I need to find that place inside of myself, and be engulfed in His presence. J grounds me, He focuses me. He always has done that. I dealt with things and managed things on my own for years, I still do really, as He is not here all the time. I do rely on Him though, for even when He is not here, I know I am not alone.

That is all I can manage to write before my train of thought derails again. J gave me a writing assignment close to a week ago, so I will post that next, just as soon as I can concentrate enough to finish it. The longer I go without writing, the harder it is to write something. I got out of the habit and now I must become more disciplined and keep writing again. I decided to think aloud on the blog today to sort of break the ice and get some of this out. I haven't disappeared completely, I've just been lurking about.

Counting the Hours

J will be here in a couple of days. It has been a month since we were together, it seems like ten times that long. He has spoiled me this year, His visits have been very frequent. Of course He could have been here last week and I would still miss Him like crazy. I am very excited about seeing Him. His birthday was a couple of weeks ago and we have not celebrated it yet. I have been so exhausted lately that I hadn't even planned a special dinner for Him. I was feeling drained and uninspired. This past week has been better. I went to the chiropractor and finally quit hurting. I took some time for myself and met up with some old friends from high school. I have been making an attempt to get to bed earlier and I have been sleeping better. Despite my concerns about my grandchildren, I did not keep them this weekend. I feel a tad bit guilty about that last one, but I realized that running myself into the ground was not doing anyone any good.

J always encourages me to take care of myself, it is a hard thing for me to do. He is right though and I am feeling much better than I have in a while. It has given me the energy to get inspired about planning a nice dinner for Him. Last night, browsing through food porn, I found the perfect meal for His birthday dinner. I can't tell what it is, I want to surprise Him with it. Today, I made a trip to Jungle Jim's and bought everything I need as well as a couple of bottles of wine. I love cooking for Him and serving Him in every way. I always look forward to seeing Him. I desire and lust for Him all the time, I love Him more than I have ever loved anyone, I admire Him and truly enjoy His company. It renews me and centers me to spend time with Him. But I have to admit, it is my service to Him and pleasing Him that satisfies me the most. I am delighted that I will be cooking for Him.

I have been thinking and fantasizing about all sorts of things; His touches, His kisses, His spankings, His cock. However, the one thing I crave above all else is sucking His cock and exploring Him with my mouth. I love the way that feels to me, all the different textures and tastes of the different parts of His body. I love how His cock feels in my mouth, the way it makes me feel. Not just the submissive feelings I get from it, but it makes me feel very feminine, very female. Maybe it is the fact that His cock, His maleness, is just right there in my face, maybe it is the fact that I can please Him so much that way. He has the perfect cock. I love to touch it, to lick it and suck it, to feel it inside me. I am a bit obsessed and fascinated by it.

Other than dinner, the rest of the evening will be entirely up to Him. He may decide to mark me, He may decide to bind me, He may decide to see how many times in a row He can make me cum for Him, He may just want me to give Him a massage and pleasure Him with my mouth. He did promise me that I definitely could suck His cock. I'm sure it will be a wonderful evening.

Cocooning

I have not been writing, life has been a whirlwind and I have been feeling as if I am in a race most of the time. My work has not only been extraordinarily busy, but down right dangerous some days. My home life has been wrought with things demanding my time and attention. Through it all, I have been peaceful and thankful, save a few 'woe is me' moments that usually stem from exhaustion and hormonal flux. I have noticed that I have been cocooning. Not withdrawing from people (I have a wonderful support system right now), but wrapping myself up and embracing the solitude when I can. I have needed to do that to keep my head in the right place, otherwise it is just too easy to let the negativity creep in. I think that is why I have not been writing, when I have a moment, I just want to go deep inside myself, rather than write on the blog and put myself out there even more. Writing has always been my way of reflecting and working through things though, so I need to find a balance.

J recognizes the therapeutic value of my writing too, He has been gently reminding me and encouraging me to get back to it. He has been an incredible source of strength and comfort to me. He helps me find a balance in my life that I am sure would be lost without Him. I am aware of how precarious that balancing act is and I credit Him with the ease that I have maintained it. Previously in my life I have struggled with that.

I feel I have so many different roles in my life right now. Some roles that I thought were finished. My oldest son and his wife have been struggling mightily with many things in their lives and parenting has been one of those things. I have had to step in and take more responsibility for my grandchildren, I am aware that I may have to assume temporary custody of them for awhile, though I am hoping to not have to take that step. Since my own boys are grown, my role as a mother had changed significantly, now it is changing again. My parenting has ramped up for my oldest again, except he is an adult, so I have put in place things that must occur for the sake of my grandchildren, but left the responsibility for implementing them up to him. I am hoping things improve for them. I love my grandchildren, but being a 24/7 grandma is not what I envision for this stage of my life.

I also fear that my submission to J might suffer. I am very devoted to Him. I am secure in my role to Him, it fulfills me and meets my needs, as much as it does His. Things have stalled in some ways though, we are not moving backwards, but the forward journey we were on has slowed. I know He desires to take me farther, I desire that too, it is just difficult at the moment. I need to adjust my schedule and find the time to work on the things He has requested of me. Ultimately, I know it will benefit me. But again, I find myself drawing into a cocoon instead of putting myself out there more. I am already feeling very vulnerable, and while my vulnerability to J is a relief to me, being vulnerable to others is very hard. I crave my surrender to J, it allows me to let go of everything else and be free for the duration. It gives me a much needed break from the rest. It also fulfills a very real need in me, it lets me explore a facet of my personality that I otherwise suppress. He will be here soon and I am very glad for that. Although it hasn't been a very long time, it feels like the last time we were together was forever ago. I am hungry for Him, to taste Him, to serve Him, to surrender to Him. I am safe in His hands, I am strengthened by His presence, I am fortified by His love and caring. I am strengthened and calmed by my submission to Him.

Considering all that is on my plate, I am amazingly good. I am blessed and I am grateful and I love this thing that we do, because J does it so well.

Missing J

I am consumed with my need for Him. I know that we could have just been together and my need and desire would not have abated. I use to be patient, His visits, doled out over the weeks would sate me, satisfy me, but no more. I am in a constant state of hunger for Him, for what He offers me. He is very generous, He makes the trip here often, when He is here I am content, fulfilled, I am in heaven. It has not been long since He was here, in my home, in my bed and yet I am delirious with need. So many things I want and long for, all of the things we engage in swirl through my mind, my memory. Yet I dwell mostly on two things, being spanked and feeling Him fuck my mouth.

Those are the things where I so intensely feel His control over me. They accentuate my submission, my surrender to Him. To me they are loving acts, He is always loving and caring towards me. I want the intensity, the severity, I want to be marked and taken and used. I want to struggle with the emotions and also the pain. I want to hear His voice reassuring me, comforting me, even as He tells me He is going to mark me more. I want Him to ignore my tears and my pleas, I want Him to take me farther than I have gone. I want to break through the other side of the pain. I want to lose focus on everything but His voice, His reassurances, His caresses and the strokes He keeps administering. My thoughts of this make my cunt drip and pulse for Him. My desire swells and overtakes me. My mouth waters for His cock, hard from marking me.

I fantasize about all variations of this. I recall the last time He was here. The marks He left, the mixing of the pain and pleasure. My cunt soaked the bed as much as my tears. I clung to His voice and His gentle touches as I succumbed to His hand, the brush, His belt and the cane. As the pain overtook me, so did the desire, the burning inside of me. Not from the marks, but from lust and the need that filled my cunt and my belly. I was His and I knew He would never harm me, but I needed Him to hurt me. I needed Him to do what He wanted with me, not what I wanted. Except it was what I wanted, I wanted my complete lack of control, knowing that I gave that control to Him.

I need that again, more than ever. I need to discover that I have no boundaries, no limits. Only J may determine my limits. He know my limitations better than I do myself. While I tend to think my emotional limitations are much farther than they are, I also know that I feel my physical limitations are are much less than where they actually lay. I want Him to take me to the edge of my ability, I want to go to the brink with Him. He knows me so well, He can seize control of my mind. He can manipulate my reactions, my emotions and my desires. Not manipulate in a bad way, but in a very dominant way. His presence and control swallow me up, He overwhelms me and yet I know I am completely cherished and valued by Him. In fact His control, His efforts affirm that for me. I long and hunger for this with trepidation. I know it will be difficult, I know I will regret my own desires before it is over. I also know that I need it. I am not a masochist, it is about submitting, surrendering. Yet there is a masochistic streak within me, one that longs to awaken and unleash the sadist in Him. I don't think He really desires my pain, but He desires to fill me with sensation. He wants to fill me to over-flowing, to fan the ember inside me that desires this into a raging fire. I want to be consumed by the flames. I want to rise from those ashes, submitted, surrendered and totally His.

Slut

J has been here more often lately. Tomorrow He will be here again for two nights. I am lucky to be able to be with Him more. Our relationship is not just D/s, it is more than that. Despite what we share though, I am always submissive to Him. It is always there, just under the surface, even when our dynamic is something different at the moment. I am a greedy slut for J lately. His being here has been such a blessing to me and also a revelation in some ways. My mind teases me with desires and fantasies, both of things I want and crave and things I may not really ever be able to do or enjoy. I love being with Him, being near Him. I have realized that my joy comes from pleasing Him, touching Him. It is extremely fulfilling to me to be able to serve Him. It makes me feel accepted, content and complete. I love knowing that I have pleased Him, whether that stems from preparing a meal for Him, rubbing and massaging Him, sucking His cock, cumming for Him or feeling His marks on me. I have been reflecting a lot on my submission lately. I have been evaluating why I need it and enjoy it so much. I also have been thinking about how to improve my submission. Improving it and deepening it makes me happy and content. I have not been working hard enough to do that lately, both for myself and for Him. It is a bit of an enigma to me. The mystery of why this is such an innate part of my character.

I have also been thinking about the things that I want and need. I'm sure some people would feel I was topping from the bottom, but ultimately what He grants me is His decision. I ask for things and I tell Him all of my thoughts and desires. He is usually quite accommodating when it comes to giving me what I need. Mostly what I need is to serve Him and please Him, though lately my thoughts have been much more needful of the extreme. I want to be marked, severely. I want to struggle to tolerate His discipline. I want to be spanked and belted and caned. I want my nipples tortured and clamped. I want my cunt to be whipped with His belt. It makes me quite wet and wanton to even think about it. I am feeling quite slutty for Him. It is an odd desire, on one hand I fear the pain and severity of what I wish for. On the other hand, I am obsessed with it. Maybe it is not the severity I fear, but that I will not be able to tolerate it. I have been a bit wimpy of late.

Tonight, when we were chatting, He told me "You will be marked tomorrow." That statement made my cunt drip and clench. There is a point in our play where my mind shuts down and I let myself go. I suppose that some would say this was sub-space. However I cannot always quiet my mind. Sometimes it races and protests and screams at me to get away. Other times, everything meshes and blurs together. The pain and the pleasure become one and I am awash in sensation and surrender. Despite my desires, I am not a masochist. It is the surrender and submission I crave. I crave to be His, completely and fully for whatever He wants or needs. Right now, though, it is my wants and needs I am focused on. Not that He doesn't enjoy spanking me and whipping me, but it is the control we both enjoy. His control over me. I do know one thing though, tomorrow I will be marked. He will give me what I asked for and that knowledge makes me melt. I am a slut for J. I am a greedy and needy slut. I want His cock, His marks, all the attentions He will grant to me. I ache to feel His hands on me. I salivate with the desire to lick and taste everywhere on His body. I don't want to stop until I have been pinched and rubbed and poked and prodded and filled and taken. I want His marks on my ass, His fist in my hair, His cock down my throat and His cum smeared across my face. The phrase, "be careful what you ask for" has crossed my mind, but I am too far gone down this road to exercise caution now. Tomorrow night I anticipate being used and bruised and sated and sleeping in His arms.