Forward by the scruff of my neck

I’m moving forward, if incrementally, into a more stable emotional space. I am hoping that feeling better will spur my motivation to write, as well – you know, like the sexy, naughty stuff – but we will see. At the moment, I’m not feeling any sexy, naughty stuff, much less doing any sexy naughty stuff, so it’s kind of a moot point, but, you know, it could happen.

Or I could write fiction.

As it stands, V and I are kind of in a holding pattern. We’re not off, but we’re not exactly on, either, as I struggle through the emotional morass I have found myself in. We’re holding still. We’re communicating (sometimes a lot) and mostly in healthy ways, and still seeing each other our two times/week. Last weekend we even saw each other in the middle of a weekend day (gasp.) But things aren’t entirely – or even remotely – normal between us. He wants me to just close my eyes and trust, and is convinced all of this is “this time of year” fucking with me. And maybe he’s right. I don’t know if it is the seasonal thing, or the “This Month” thing, or some other environmental stressors that have me turned around, or if all this firestorm of emotion is an indication of serious “is this right for me” questions. But I need some emotional space while I bumble my own way through things and find my equilibrium again, of that I am certain. And to his credit, he is giving me that space – gently and thoughtfully – though it must be costing him an emotional kilo of flesh to remain calm and centered. I am aware of my emotions’ ability to suck the air out of a space – or conversely, to swell until they fill the whole room, squashing and suffocating everything in their way.

But the fact that I am even able to sit here and be this objective; the fact that I can hear the rational part of myself saying, “hey, maybe you need to just hold on, stay still, ride the wave out without tearing anything down,” is a good sign, IMO. And a sign that speaks to V’s opinion that 99% of this is environmentally-based.

I’m thinking of renting a little cottage at the seaside for the entire month of March in future years. Someplace cold and stark and lonely, far away from everyone, where I can hole up and wallow if need be, and my wallowing won’t blunder into anyone else.

Meanwhile, as I push my way through this, I have been doing my best to be normal in other (social) ways. In spite of myself.

I missed out on the Chicago Pie Party I was supposed to attend last weekend. I am very sad! But I had a weird adverse reaction to a new medication and spent Friday and Saturday hoping I wasn’t going to die. (Not literally – well, ok literally at one point Friday night – but damn it felt pretty fucking awful.) So driving alone for 5 hours was not in my best interests. I have a lot of quiche (my contribution to the “pie” theme) leftover.

But I have made other commitments and am sticking with them. One is physical therapy as prescribed by my new orthopedist. I see her for the first time tonight. I was told that my back/hip issue isn’t my hip and that, with some work, I could come out of this in a lot less of the chronic pain I have endured for years – without drugs or surgery. We shall see – I am hopeful!

After PT tonight I have a planning meeting with my daughter and Adam, after having been given the “ok” by that same doctor to tackle the Grand Canyon backpacking trip we want to do in the fall. I’m super excited! It looks like, if all goes well in planning and PT, that it will be a birthday trip for me.

Tomorrow night I am meeting my sister to go to a pottery & wine class. I’m super excited for that, too. I really love that we have found an activity that we both enjoy to do together (and with my mom at times too.)

Thursday night I am out at V’s. It would be nice to just…be there. With him. Present with him and not questioning/chewing on every single thing. Heck, maybe we could even play.

It’s strange how my libido drains away to nothing when we’re not engaging with each other. It also might be affected by the seasonal thing, but really? I think it’s that my sexual identity is so keyed to him and our interactions that when they aren’t there, I don’t even think about sex. I was noodling for the Smut Marathon the other night and realized that I hadn’t even thought of sex or kink for days, so I brought out my Black Baldy (a waterproof version/different manufacturer of a wand that happens to be black) and used it on myself. No Dominant telling me what I can do, woo-hoo! It didn’t work. I got bored and sore without going anywhere and eventually just gave up.

Gah.

The weekend is shaping up to be busy, but in a good, not frantic, way. I hope. Saturday day is up in the air at the moment…but Adam doesn’t work, so I may see if he wants to stay over Friday and then loll about on Saturday. Like just have a me-and-him day to do things that aren’t housework, house repair, yard work or car or computer repair related.  

Then Saturday night, we’re going to our local monthly kink party. Where I am staying after, and who with, hasn’t been decided. Maybe both? It’s a wild and woolly future with Adam saying he’ll be working M-F from now on, and having weekends free. It may have an impact on V’s and my two nights a week we’re slotted for too, if it really does work that way. (Probably another thing that needs to be thrown into the “needs discussion” hat.)

Edit: Apparently, on his first Saturday day off in forever, Adam made other plans, because he assumed I’d be doing something with V. I can’t say as I can blame him for thinking that – except that, no, I never have plans with V on Saturday days, or any days, ever. So maybe he could have checked? Sigh. I’m a little miffed. But honestly, not much. I can’t expect him to be available at the drop of a hat after years of prioritizing my time with V. I’ve learned to be good company on my own. No reason for that to change now. I’ll figure out something else to do Saturday day.

So yeah, though I mostly want to crawl in bed as soon as I get home at night, I’m dragging myself by the scruff of the neck to do things that I know are good for me – while also respecting that sometimes, wallowing alone is acceptable if I really really need to.

Comments

  1. twistedbubbles

    Oh I loathe those emotional days and weeks. I am not sure mine is seasonal in that respect as much as it is related to losses suffered during those times that pitch me into that ‘dead’ space I call it. Where I half want to be sociable and play and the majority of me says stay in bed and be an introvert. I cry a lot in these spells, which I loathe even more. Sending you virtual hugs and hoping yours breaks soon.

    Reply
    1. Jade Post author

      Mine is loss-related mostly too, tho SAD exacerbates it. I’m sorry to hear you have suffered losses as well – what a sucky time of year this is for so many people!

      Reply
    1. Jade Post author

      Oh, Marie, I just read your WW post – I know how blisteringly hard this stupid time of the year is for you, too. Sending you love & strength. We’ll get thru this.

      Reply
    1. Jade Post author

      Thank you…I’m getting there. Sometimes I think I just have to survive till the end of the month, and it’ll all be okay. But you’re right, I do need to allow myself the wallow occasionally – if even for a short while.

      Reply

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