Change...it's never easy

Change is hard. No matter who you are, change is hard.

I've had a huge change with starting this new job. It's a good kind of change. It's going extremely well and despite the fact that I have only completed one full week, I'm loving it and starting to feel very comfortable and part of the team.

There is one thing that has been extremely challenging for me. It's a silly, little, insignificant change, but one that I am feeling greatly. That is the required wardrobe. Throughout my career I have had to dress in either a professional wardrobe, or a uniform.

Professional wardrobes are easy for me, I love dresses and skirts and wear them almost everyday. I admit, my interpretation of skirts and dresses do not actually meet "professional" standards, but what I have in my wardrobe is easily adaptable too conform to them.

Uniforms are boring, but they are very easy. You wear the same thing every day, there are no decisions to make. I could get dressed in the dark, often have, and still can't mess it up.

This new job, it doesn't require either professional dress or uniforms. I can wear jeans or shorts. I can wear T-shirts. None of which I actually own much of, because I don't wear them. I wear dresses and skirts at home. I can wear some of my skirts to work, but I have to choose carefully for what will work in my environment. I'm still adjusting to that. Though I did wear one this week, I was tired and needed the comfort of it.

I also have to get used to the fact that I am required to wear underwear and shoes every day. I intensely dislike underwear of any kind. My girls never really finished growing up, so cami's with built in bra's work exceedingly well for me. That is the plus of having a small chest, that and the fact that at 48, gravity hasn't affected me much. If ya don't have it, it can't sag. Yay!!!!!

Because of the fact that I have always felt my body belonged to Musicman, I have always dressed in a way that makes it easily accessible to him. I wear dresses, or skirts, sans panties, always. I'm extremely comfortable letting the lady parts breathe. I never wear underwear, of any kind, in our home. I'm also very comfortable going out in public without it.

Obviously, I can not show up at work without the appropriate undergarments. Despite the fact that I have a varied selection, from lace to string bikini, to full coverage granny panties, I hate them all. It sucks having to wear them everyday and I can't wait to get home and get them off.

I would say that they are the first thing to come off as I walk through the door, but they aren't. I am a bit of an unusual woman. I hate shoes, of all kinds. If they are not required by law, I don't wear them. I am sorta known for taking off my shoes and loosing them somewhere. Musicman often has to instruct me to bring shoes with me when we go on our summer weekend adventures. If he didn't, I wouldn't. Because of that, I tend to collect them in my car, cause I take them, but never wear them and then forget to bring them back into the house.

Yeah, guess it's time to go shopping. That won't help me get used to wearing undies on a daily basis, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. In this case, it's spend money. Unfortunately, I can't but any more skirts or dresses, time to invest in shorts and jeans. I highly doubt that I will ever feel very comfortable dressing that way and will continue to change clothes from the skin out, as soon as I get home. That's okay though, it's what I'm used to doing.

Oh...What a Week

Oh my, what a week. I've had no time to visit here, and barely any time to write. I know I hadn't been commenting very much, but I was still reading. I miss everyone. I still have comments to answer, but am so totally exhausted that I can't focus so well right now. So take that as your warning that this post may go nowhere.

I spent the first 4 days of the week in intensive training for the new job. It was extremely physically grueling. Not to mention the fact that I had to dress appropriately, which means I actually had to wear underwear and shoes everyday, ugh. I spent two hours on my knees, getting CPR certified. I have bad knees and don't kneel well, especially on a concrete floor, my knees still bear the bruises. Right after that, we took a two hour walking tour of the facility, it's extremely large. Unfortunately, we were behind schedule and shoved 2 hours into under an hour and a half. My knees were so swollen and burned beyond belief for the next 2 days.

I am working with intellectually disabled senior citizens in a day program. Imagine if you will, an adult daycare. The first day that I was actually onsite they introduced me to the patients in a group setting, they applauded. I've never been applauded just for showing up before. It was kinda sweet.

Today was my second day on the actual job site. My boss informed me that she has never done this before, but because I "have so much experience", she felt comfortable I could handle it.  She gave me patients of my own to care for. Let me just say, yes, despite the fact that I had no idea where anything as far as supplies or necessities were, I could handle it. It quickly became obvious that the staff had discussed me before I got there because everyone referred to how much "experience" I have.

I received hugs, kisses, pats on the head and pokes in the arm from my patients today. They like to introduce themselves and shake my hand, repeatedly. One patient even attempted to tickle me. I played games with them, watched a movie with them, said prayers with them, and helped them exercise. Yep, I think I've found my niche. That is the good, if challenging part of my week.

The bad part of my week, my brother has been hospitalized again. The chemo did not work, his cancer has spread. He has undergone 2 emergency surgical procedures in less than 24 hours. He has received multiple blood transfusions but is bleeding out faster than they can get it back into him. At one point the doctors told his wife that if these surgical procedures did not work it would only be a matter of weeks.

All his major internal organs are now compromised by the cancer. His heart is starting to fail and they can't get a good balance between the internal bleeding and the blood clots. He currently has 4 clots, that's down from 7.  My sister in law and the boys are devastated, no big surprise that. It's just so hard to be so far away and have her telling me she is so stressed and in shock that she is physically ill, but hiding that from my brother.

She is an extremely strong woman and is doing everything humanly possible to be strong for her family. It breaks my heart because I know she isn't telling anyone else about her moments of weakness. She tells me how she wishes I was there with her, I wish I could be, so badly, but it just isn't possible right now. That fact, while I understand it, pisses me off.

Musicman had his appointment with the new specialist this week. I was not impressed with his office staff even one iota. They were so unprofessional and in my opinion uninformed, that by the time we got to see the doctor I was spitting tacks and ready to kick ass and take names later. Musicman told me I couldn't do that though, so I let them live.

I did agree, after extensive questioning, with the doctor's proposed plan of treatment. Unfortunately we are now in a fight with the insurance company to get it paid for. Apparently they haven't heard what a bitch I can be when it comes to getting him the treatment he needs. Time for them to meet the pitbull.

My house is a huge mess, which bothers me terribly. There have been issues with both kids, because of course, a week without  making Mom tense is just no fun for them. My old dog is getting worse by the minute and I have resorted to feeding him peanut butter and ibuprofen sandwiches just to keep him comfortable. Tornadoes are ravaging the area of the country that my extended family lives in, which makes watching the news hazardous at best for my sanity. Musicman has received numerous calls from his extended family asking him for help with major needed repairs.

Yeah, it's been one of those weeks. The kind of week, when I tell Musicman, give me half an hour I can have us packed and we can run away. He said no. Darn man.

Peace Lies Within The Pain

Sometimes, there is just too much stimulation for me. Too much energy, too much input. I absorb energy like a sponge absorbs liquid. It overwhelms and engulfs, fairly drowning me in explosions of feeling.

Feelings that culminate in soul deep pain. Pain, I know not, how to escape from. My worlds collide and I succumb to the pressure. I forget who I am, where my focus lies. I'm dizzy from riding the whirlwind I call life.  I'm splintered into a thousand pieces, scattered to the violent winds.

The pain becomes unbearable. My soul weeps. I seek solace, as a starving person seeks to slake his thirst. I can no longer articulate, for understanding has long ago fled. I know only one thing, it's too much, though I can't tell you what "too much" actually means.

And in that moment, when I no longer have the strength, when I can no longer hang on. In that moment, when "too much" is overwhelming and engulfing. YOU are there.

You read me like the open book I am, for nobody, but you. You bring me, the peace, of pain. An oxymoron, I know, yet you seek not to understand, but to provide. Understanding, acceptance even, may come with time. But that is not your goal, your goal is to provide.

You are my Dominant, and yet, in the darkest of times, you stand before me and say, " I would make it better if I knew how." We both know, there is no "making it better", somethings are just to be survived.

Survive we will, painful as that may be, and in the mean time, I will seek respite in the pain. I thank you for that respite and for knowing that peace lies within the pain.

At What Price?

Sometimes I am astounded by the fact that Musicman and I have been together for so long. I'm even more astounded by the fact that even though we never labeled our relationship, it has essentially been a D/s relationship from the very beginning. It's become quite comfortable and sometimes it's easy to forget that I live within an alternative style relationship.

Then there are the times when it becomes glaringly obvious to me exactly what kind of relationship I live within. Unfortunately, those times happen when Musicman is stressed and drops his HOH hat. That causes quite the ripple effect. I scurry to safety behind my walls, resentment bubbles to the surface and silence reigns supreme.

I certainly understand that he has bad days and is tired and stressed and doesn't particularly want to deal with more of that when he gets home. I do my best to give him the peace and quiet and pampering he needs on those days. But, that isn't always possible, especially when kids enter the picture.

That was the kind of day we had yesterday. Something happened with our daughter, just a minor something, but something that Musicman could have easily handled if he had wanted to. Turns out he didn't want to. I know what happened, he was tired and didn't really listen to me or what I was asking of him.

Instead he went into defensive mode and verbally lashed out at me. That is very rare for us and I wish I could say that I was the bigger person and let it go. Umm...yeah...not so much. I felt attacked, unheard and unsupported, I shut down.  I virtually flew back behind my walls, walls that are so strong there isn't enough dynamite in this world to bring them down.

Despite the fact that some walls will never come down, I truly don't hide behind them most of the time. In fact, the one thing that is sure to send me scurrying back behind them, is him. He is the only person with enough power in my life to do that.

I may be willing to defer to him, but not if he is going to act like a spoiled brat. Yes, HOH's can occasionally act that way too. I realize now that he probably thought I was asking for more from him than I actually was. However, I am not willing to accept that just because he is the HOH he gets to treat me badly because he can't find his words and ask for clarification.

The sad thing about all this is the original incident is something so minor, something that should never have caused the breakdown in communication that occurred.  He was tired and fell back into old habits and dealt with the situation badly. He got the evening of peace and quiet he wanted, but at what price to us?

Reaching Deep

How ironic that I’ve been too stressed out to write and when I do finally find my voice the internet is out. Typical. Which is why I am writing in word and hoping the internet comes back up soon.

Some of you may know that I have been struggling for the last 3 years to find a job that is the right fit for me. It hasn’t been easy; I’ve tried many things, both within my career field and outside of it and failed. I’ve failed, but I’ve never given up.

I’ve been undergoing a rigorous interview process for the last month, for a job that I feel could be the perfect fit for me. After several extensive interviews I finally received a formal offer. They wanted me, yay!!!!

I start next week and am extremely excited about this position. I will be working as a caregiver for mentally challenged senior citizens. Caring for seniors is where I started my career and what I love the most. After 35 years in the field I was burned out and had all but given up on finding a position that would work for me when this came along.

I had just one barrier left between me and this place that feels so right. That thing would seem, for most, to be a relatively easy thing. The dreaded physical. It’s just a routine thing, nothing to worry or stress about.

I wish.

This is such a serious trigger for me. Too many bad memories, of a young girl, facing awful doctors, all alone in my past, to even explain. Bad enough, that once I found the right doctor for me, I stayed with him for most of my adult life, until he retired. When he did retire, his daughter took over his practice. She was so much like her father in the way she practiced, I stayed with her.

I’ve had to undergo other work physicals in my career; they have always been extremely unpleasant. I even had one that I went toe to toe with about the fact that a work physical did NOT include a gynecological exam. As if I would let that creepy old man touch me, much less do that to me. I won that one, but not without a bit of stress thinking my job hung in the balance.

I had my work physical today. I was so stressed about it, that I did not sleep more than 2 hours last night. It was a 5 minute drive from my home, but I left 20 minutes early, just in case something happened. I’m not sure what I thought would happen, but I was very nervous about the whole thing.

By the time I arrived, over tired, due to only getting 2 hours of sleep, I was in a full blown panic attack. My heart was racing and felt like it was going to beat its way out of my chest. My hands were shaking so badly I almost couldn’t complete the required forms. I started to flush and was so warm I thought it would be a miracle if I didn’t pass out, or vomit, my stomach was definitely in an uproar.

The nurse was so nice, but was immediately concerned about my heart rate and blood pressure. Normally those are not an issue for me, but today they were. They were both abnormally high. She was very kind and considerate and questioned me about what was going on. I admitted my anxiety with the situation and even shared some of why it was so anxiety provoking for me. She reassured me as best she could, but I still couldn’t seem to get myself under control. I’m ashamed to say, I was reduced to tears at that point. Darn hormones!

Too my surprise I wasn’t actually seeing a doctor, a nurse practitioner would be completing my physical. He was a lovely, kind, older gentleman. He too was concerned about my reaction to something so routine. I have no idea why, but I confided many things to him that I’ve never even told my own physician. He listened and gently advised. He guided me through what should have been such an easy thing, yet something I found so extremely difficult.

He reminded me of something so profoundly important. He told me that no one on their death bed has wished they had worried more. He told me it was time to let the past go. He told me I’m still a young woman and I have a lot left to offer. He was genuinely concerned about how high my blood pressure was. He was so concerned that he sat with me for several minutes, he told me to close my eyes and take a deep breath. He told me to imagine meeting my grandbaby and what I would say to her when I finally met her.

It worked, my heart rate had slowed, my blood pressure had returned to normal. I passed my physical and will be starting a job I know I am going to love and find totally fulfilling, without detracting from my personal life.

I hope someday that I can make a difference in someone’s life the way he did for me today. He is truly a great caregiver. That’s something I aspire to be.

The above illustrates one of those times that sub or not, Musicman couldn’t really help me. I know he would have, had there been anything he could have done, but there just wasn’t. This was one of those times, I had to reach deep, find my strength and push through it on my own.

Of course, that doesn’t mean there’s not something he could do to comfort me after the fact. There definitely is.  I think we may be due for a conversation later tonight.

 

 

 

 

Control Issues

There have been so any benefits for me in blogging. Not only does the writing help me to sort things out, but the comments often give me added insight into what is going on. That has been the case with my last post.

Believe me when I say I am not as tuned in to what is going on with me as I would like to be. It has taken me quite a long time to figure out the that submission and service are two very different things. I don't necessarily like that they are two different things, but for my own sanity I needed to accept that that is the case.

I don't like the fact that when I am in a service mindset I must retain control, but if I don't it triggers something very bad for me. I go to a dark, painful place where the rage boils out of control. This has been occurring off and on for years and it has taken me this long to figure it out. I can often go long periods of time without ever tripping that particular trigger. Other times it happens frequently.

Much to my chagrin, it has happened several times in the last few weeks. I have gotten to a point where I can sometimes prevent myself from spiralling totally out of control, but I'm still not exactly pleasant to be around. I may not lash out as I used to, but I still withdraw into myself and quietly let the rage bubble beneath the surface, struggling to let it go. I've not been as successful at letting it go as I would like. It's is getting better, taking only hours where it used to take days or even weeks.

As for Musicman, I'm afraid he still has no clue what exactly is going on. That is my fault, because I haven't been able to articulate well enough to explain it. I'm trying, but it's not easy to explain a mindset.

Musicman is a naturally dominant man, but it is a very subtle dominance. I'm the one that has the need for more overt displays of dominance on his part. He has done a great job of stepping up and providing that for me most of the time. Then there are the times when he is tired or stressed or dealing with some frustration when he just isn't feeling it. He goes through the motions because he knows that's what I want. The problem is, I can tell, very clearly, that he is not into it, that's when the trigger gets tripped.

I can be of service, I can offer myself to him with no expectations of overt dominance on his part, as long as I can define how that service will be rendered. If he wants more then I am offering, I can't switch mindsets fast enough. I need the more intense feeling of dominance from him to get there. When it doesn't occur, I get triggered and spiral so fast that both our heads spin.

I don't like having to be the one in control during certain situations. I want to be able to serve without limitations, but that is not the case right now. I have no idea how to proceed from here, but identifying the trigger is a huge step forward, so I'll be happy with that, for now.

When I Am...

I'm big into visualization. I cultivated it many years ago, as a way to deal with the visions that come to me.

I see a huge ball of knotted yarn. I pick and I pick at the knots until they unravel. Sometimes, the unravelling is painful, necessary, but painful.  I think I've picked my way through a few knots.

When it comes to D/s, I've realized that I have two settings.

Submissive.

Service.

For some, those might mean the same thing. For me, not so much.

When I am in a submissive mindset, I will do anything he asks of me. I will fly freely, inhibitions left by the wayside. He is firmly in charge. I am totally malleable. I will kneel at his feet. I will be his slut. I will not question. I will surrender total control. I will willingly obey and thank my Sir for that privilege.

When I am in a submissive mindset, I crave the pain. I crave the attention. I crave his focus, solely on me. I crave the well placed slap of the strap. I crave the blows of the paddle, as they reign down, robbing me of breathe, robbing me of thought. I crave whatever he wants to give me.

When I am in a submissive mindset, the pain sets me free. It allows me to fly among the ether. It allows me to experience life with all my most base senses. It allows me to feel, with every fiber of my being. My soul screams surrender, there are no barriers, it is glorious.

When I am in a service mindset, he is my focus. I will do anything he desires to give him pleasure, but I must be the one in control. I must be the one who orchestrates the dance. There must not be any move on his part to provide me any attention.

When I am in a service mindset, I do not expect, nor can I receive, any attempts on his part to satisfy my needs. My needs are satisfied when he achieves pleasure, by my hand. But, the pleasure must be as I dictate, he must be willing to relax and receive and let me control the situation. I can do this for him, if he would learn to allow it.

Spring Time...and a Young Girl's Thoughts Turn To Fantasies

Okay, so I'm not really a young girl anymore, but I feel like one most of the time. The fantasy my thoughts have turned to aren't mine either. They are Musicman's.

When I first proposed a D/s lifestyle to him, I only considered fulfilling my own fantasies. Selfish and stupid of me, I know, but that's me. It wasn't that I had a problem with him fulfilling his, I just didn't think much about that, until he started sharing them with me.

There is one that he has shared with me in great detail. That fact tells me that he has thought quite a bit about it. It is one that, until now, has been a hard limit for me. I just couldn't do what he wanted, but, as with most couples, we continue to grow together and challenge our limits.

This particular fantasy of his takes place outside, by our pool. I wasn't able to fulfill this particular fantasy of his last summer. I just wasn't ready and he understood that. Fall and winter put that fantasy on hold, way to cold to even consider doing what he would like.

Spring has finally sprung here where we live. Actually, we kinda skipped spring and after an extended winter have gone straight to summer. It will very soon be time to start work on getting the pool open again. I love to play pool boy and work on it. It's hard physical labor, but I don't mind, because it gives me a reason to turn the music up loud and play in the sunshine.

As I have thought about getting started on opening the pool, his fantasy, as he described it to me, has come to mind. I know exactly what he wants me to wear. Check, I have those items in my wardrobe. I don't remember all the details, but I picture myself kneeling before him. I hear him instructing me on what he wants, directing me, ordering me. That makes me all hot and tingly.

I hear barriers falling and comfort zones being expanded. I can't stop contemplating what he shared with me almost a year ago. I think it's time. Time to explore a bit of the things that make tremble with what I would previously have described as dread. I no longer dread what he has proposed, I long for it. Dang man, how does he do that to me?

Life Changing Events

I've been having some trouble focusing lately. My writing, among other things has been suffering because of it. Why am I having trouble focusing? Well, that's rather easy to explain, stress. We all have stress, so why does it feel like I am no longer handling it at all well? Hmmm....

When I really stop and think about it, I'm not really handling it all that badly. I am currently experiencing and attempting to deal with, no less then three life changing events. One is usually enough to lay people low, that's why they are called life changing events. Those three things do not include the minor things that are occurring either, which just compound the amount of stress I have been experiencing.

No wonder I can't seem to focus, it's too much stimulus for me. I'm surprised I am not a blithering idiot 24/7. Yesterday, I was a blithering idiot. I guess you could say it was the straw that broke the camel's back kinda day.

Musicman is so tuned in to me that he has been asking me all week if I'm okay. He says I've been too quiet. That's what happens when I get lost in my own head, swimming among the stress. I'm well aware that he is also dealing with a large amount of stress and I do not want to add to it. I keep telling him I'm okay and for the most part that's true, until yesterday.

I had been doing pretty well keeping the anxiety about the job situation under control. I'm actively practicing patience. As my daughter's pregnancy progresses, I work harder not to stress about her less than ideal situation. There just isn't much I can do about it right now. We've been dealing with a rather critical home repair that is not going at all well. There isn't much I can do about that either, except be as supportive and helpful to Musicman as I possibly can. Which in general means, staying out of his way. He's doing his best to get the situation corrected, but in the mean time I see more and more damage being done to my home. Well, I'll deal with that after we get the initial problem fixed.

See, I really am handling it all very well. So what happened yesterday that reduced me to tears? My brother has had a set back and has been re-hospitalized. He's bleeding internally and despite the fact that he has had several rounds of chemo, it seems the tumor is growing, not shrinking. I'm frustrated because he is so far away that there is not much I can do but pray. I don't want to believe it, but I very much fear he is coming close to the end of his journey and I am not ready for that.

Yesterday Musicman didn't ask if I was okay, he didn't need to, he knew I wasn't. Instead, he employed some stress relief techniques like only he can. I had gone in to use the bathroom and change into my night clothes, which is just an oversized men's tank, it barely covers the naughty bits.

He was waiting for me when I came back into the bedroom. He didn't say a word, just turned me toward the lounge and bent me over. A wonderful all over body tingle was the result of a well wielded flogger. Musicman doesn't usually use more than one implement when we play, but he knew I needed more then just the flogger. I needed intense and intense is what I got. The magic paddle flew fast and furious, the blows fell so quickly all I could do was breathe. He kept up that rhythm until I could no longer stand up. I do believe he might have been in danger of being scorched from the heat radiating off my backside and thighs.

I was most definitely in that headspace where I will do anything he asks of me, and I did, several times. A little later, after I had come back to myself, he was ready to go again. I was teasing him, asking why I should do what he had told me to do. His response, "because you are my faerie and you do what I tell you to."  Oh yeah, that's right.

Needless to say, I slept very well last night. Nothing has changed as far the stress in my life, but I'm feeling much better equipped to handle it today.

Women, Sex and the Media

I'm currently in between jobs, yes, again, but that's not what I want to talk about. I'm home every day, I don't especially do well with silence, so I usually have the TV or stereo on. I prefer to have the stereo on, but I only know one level for the stereo, extra loud. Having a sleeping teenager in the house has prevented me from doing that of late, so I have the TV on all day long for back ground noise.

I've noticed a trend that I find quite disturbing. There have been a few female celebrities that have recently stood up to say positive things about sex. That has been met with quite a bit of criticism. The general consensus is that sex is something of an obligation for women.

This is not necessarily a new concept for me. I very distinctly remember my Mother telling me sex was something "you put up with". I remember her saying, " just lay there and let him do what he wants, don't think about it and it will be over soon."

Thank goodness, I didn't believe her, I did not embrace that mindset. Because of the way I was raised, because of the incest that occurred, sex has been a part of my life for my whole life. It started out as something very, very negative, I could have left it as that. I chose not to do that. I took the journey that I needed to take to transform the negative into a positive.

Some may judge the way I went about doing that. Some have judged me. My own family members, knowing what my background was, have called me names, slut and whore were two of there favorites. It hurt at the time, but I continued on undeterred, because I knew they were wrong, because I was not willing to accept what they wanted to force feed me.

I learned that my body is capable of incredible things, incredible pleasure, that I have yet to find in any other way. I learned that if this act is carried out with one you love, the connection is like no other in this world. It touches my soul, like nothing else can. It's a small slice of heaven here on earth.

I was always very frank with both my kids. I taught them that sex, within a loving relationship, is the very best thing. I also made sure to teach them to respect themselves and not to let people use them. I taught them to be responsible about sex, a concept my daughter clearly didn't get, but that isn't because I didn't try.

It makes me sad that society today still can't seem to embrace the fact that for women, sex can be a good thing. It makes me sad that we still can't talk about it in a positive way. Yes, I understand sex is not everyones focus.

I believe, that if given the opportunity to explore, in a safe and positive environment, without judgement, sex can be a very fulfilling activity. It creates energy and connections to others that you can't achieve elsewhere.

I'm left wondering: what is it going to take for society to change? How long will it be before sex is not presented to women as denigrating? Society as a whole exploits women and sexuality to sell every thing under the sun, but let a woman step forward and say she enjoys sex, and they cut her down and criticize her for that. Does this seem a bit hypocritical to anyone?