With the onset of my injury and the new diagnosis that is complicating my healing, I can no longer work.
I live in an area of the country that is exceptionally cold and snowy. If it's not the grocery store or a Dr appt, I don't go out.
I spend a lot of time alone, living in my head. It's a scary place in there.
I also don't sleep well. I never have...here comes the but...but, pain of the not so good kind, makes it even more of a challenge.
It gives me too much time to think. That's never a good thing.
I've spent so much time thinking about how I chose to submit. I don't remember the day, but I remember the moment. Like it were yesterday, instead of 30+ decades ago.
Given the circumstances of the last handful of years, I wonder if I've lost myself in the cloak of my submission.
I think about all the compromises I've made to please him. The adjustments I've made, to please him. The things I've sacrificed, to please him.
I'm not so sure that submission to him is such a good thing for me.
So many questions and decisions to be made, yet stuck in limbo for the moment. Which just gives me more time to think. Ugh.