the marks of a slave

[eastern sun]

And this applies to much more of my life than just Lent or my relationship with God. Its also about all the times when my choices were less than stellar, and the ramifications and second guessing circle in my head like sharks around a lifeboat.

I love this image, bethpage. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

If your musings have teeth like those though, it's hard to let go and just jump in the water.

 

[eastern sun]

I have met very little in the world with either a bite or a bark as harsh and mean as my own internal dogs.

 

[eastern sun]

How do I learn to trust when I've developed suspicious observation into a fine art?

How do I learn to trust when I can see the consequences of my mistakes take root and blossom in my weed-filled garden?



I see the first signs of weeds, the little tender shoots of the "unwanted." I get this feeling in my chest. And I keep my eye on them as they grow and grow and become stronger and begin to choke the beautiful flowers. I can see their impact on the shape of the flower bed. I watch it all develop. . . slowly.

And then, finally, when the flowers are going to die if I do nothing, I grab my shovel and axe and wield them like a battle-crazed warrior.

In the quiet aftermath, I wonder why I waited so long. Why don't I just drop to my knees and pull the tiny shoots when just a little tug is all that's necessary?

Is it because I love the fight? Do I crave that intense release of energy and emotion?




Have I grown to love the sharks that circle my lifeboat?

Isn't it more interesting to focus on the sharks than just to pick up a paddle and start the long, steady . . . boring . . . trip to land?

 

[eastern sun]

I am a broad-shouldered woman.

I have woven my anger into the muscles of my back for so many years that just a little bodywork releases more energy than I know what to do with.

An angry slave is a destructive force.

 

[BiBunny]

Even though I get turned on when he calls me names (especially if he's grabbing my hair) . . . if I could choose . . . I'd rather hear "I love you slave" than "you know you love it, you fucking slut" on most days of the week.

How are things going, BiBunny?

Fantastically. Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve the two of them.

 

[bethpage]

I love this image, bethpage. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

If your musings have teeth like those though, it's hard to let go and just jump in the water.

Yeah, it is. But sometimes I know they can only hurt me if I let them. I went to bed the other night repeating "My failure at (blank) does not lessen my value as a human being."

Part of my doesn't believe it, but it worked enough that I could sleep without tearing new wounds in my soul.

 

[eastern sun]

The grandmothers of my children both died young. I have always blamed their husbands, who outlived them by many, many years.

But it wasn't the men who killed them. It was their anger that turned on them like so many pointed knives.

As children, we live in the ocean of our parents. Like a sponge, I absorbed my mother's anger. It influenced the shape of my mind. And the shape of my body. And I nurtured it, and made it my own.

My little anger.

It is possible for a slave to lose respect for her master.

But, so what? What good does it do? Does it make him a better man? Does it make her a better woman?

No. It makes everyone feel like shit.

So what should I do?

Find another master? Ludicrous. Cry? Sick of it. Say something mean? Tried it. It only makes me feel worse in the long run.

I desperately want to shake this feeling of wanting to be angry.

And the only way out that I know of is to take another look at this man . . . to actively look for the one I have loved. The way his hair curls. His sense of humor. His courage. His ethics. The pocket where his neck meets his shoulder. The strength of his hands. His creativity. His loyalty. His friendship.

How could I forget these things? Narrowing my focus until I blind myself.

I prefer his blindfold to my own.

 

[gypsy*seer]

..........

 

[Homburg]

I think I was ten years old when I swore to myself that I would not hold grudges like my mother. That I would not be unrelentingly negative like my mother. It worked, mostly, but only because I screamed at myself internally for years and years that I. Would. NOT. Be. Her.

And we're still two peas in a pod. I beat that grudge thing though. And I'm not constantly negative. Man, so many similarities though.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

I think I was ten years old when I swore to myself that I would not hold grudges like my mother. That I would not be unrelentingly negative like my mother. It worked, mostly, but only because I screamed at myself internally for years and years that I. Would. NOT. Be. Her.

Yup, I can really relate to that. On some fronts I am successful. Others are futile, indelible like my fingerprint. Railing against that just makes me even more like the facets of my mother that I simply couldn't stand.

One of the reasons I've had some success is because I have no kids and no plans for any. When I watch my best friend's kids, I metamophosize into my mother like the Incredible Hulk busting out of his shirt (but never his trousers... weird). Part of the reason I've generally avoided kids (aside from flat out not wanting them or being able to handle their high pitched company for long) is that I know without question that the day I drop or acquire a kidlet, my transformation will be complete and any hopes of turning back into Dr Banner will evaporate completely.



It's not that my mother was that bad a person/parent but she is not the sort of person that I want to become. She had such bitterness and anger and it grew inside her until it eclipsed everything else.

I refuse to become a person who's default state is a slow burning rage. Anger is unconstructive and futile. It's the act of being defeated by circumstance, of failing to cope or even to try. It's the act of blaming everything but myself for whatever situation I'm in. In short, it's pointless.

And these days, futility is just too much effort.

 

[eastern sun]

I'm sorry I've been so bleak lately.

It's been a really hard winter.

And I'm exhausted. Bone tired.

Don't want to do anything for anyone because I have nothing left.

Burnt out.

Drained.

And I'm still a slave.

(It fucking pisses me off.)

But it goes with the territory.

And my husband is a patient man.

 

[eastern sun]

And my mother loved me. I miss her terribly, and wish she was here.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

I'm sorry I've been so bleak lately.

It's been a really hard winter.

And I'm exhausted. Bone tired.

Don't want to do anything for anyone because I have nothing left.

Burnt out.

Drained.

And I'm still a slave.

(It fucking pisses me off.)

But it goes with the territory.

And my husband is a patient man.

I'm sorry to hear that. {{{{{HUGS}}}}}

I have times like this too, usually with me they're health related but more recently it's been a social thing. I devote a lot of time, effort, energy and shmoozing to my new business venture. I have Master, who is quite depressed about money and stuff at the moment. I'm unquestionably the agony aunt in my circle of friends. It's always me who gets the tearful calls at 2am and who carries around everyone else's confidences. I don't resent it, in fact I feel privileged but sometimes it all just gets too much.

It's partly the slave mentality I've developed. Saying 'I'm sorry but I just can't deal with this right now' always feels like failure and leaves me with such gut wrenching guilt. My friends call on me because they know they always can and I love that they do but lately... lately I have just been socially burnt out.

Yesterday my mobile phone rang and I actually flinched. Bad sign.

I hate mobile phones. I'm a disgrace to my generation I know but I absolutely hate that everyone now assumes they can call everyone else at any time of the damn day. If I let it go to voicemail, people actually get hurt and ask me why. It's like we're not allowed to be unavailable any more. I reply that it was 'just a bad time' and get eyed with suspicion. People my age (late 20s) are surgically attached to their phones. The idea of not taking a call is almost unthinkable. We all got by before they became a global electronic virus however. I once recorded a voicemail message yelling 'I cannot handle anything today so you can all just fuck off!' I didn't save it but sometimes I wish I had the courage to limit other people's access to me a bit more.

Grrr.

The last time I had a bad migraine, Master was so caring and I turned the phone off and lay in a dark room for a day or two. On many levels, it was actually welcome respite. The glorious knowledge that I could not be expected to contact anyone for a good 48 hours did wonders for my recovery. I suffered nausea, temporary loss of vision, terrible pain that I couldn't sleep through, believe me when I say it was not fun.

But the silence. The pretty much total silence healed a part of my soul.

I think we in the socially hyperdeveloped west have lost silence. Every public building sprays bad music at you. Every family room is dominated by a huge TV, DVD player, Hi-Fi, surround sound, you name it. Here in the UK less than half of familys sit around and have a meal with no media intrusion or distractions at least once a week. We are raising a generation of iPhone wielding, facebook blogging, social networking, nightclub cramming youngsters who simply cannot handle silence.

So I can relate to how you feel easternsun, I think my little rant was therapeutic too.

 

[Homburg]

I didn't save it but sometimes I wish I had the courage to limit other people's access to me a bit more.

Grrr.

You have a new business in a brutal economy. You have the world's best excuse. Start purposefully ignoring calls. Call back later. When asked, tell them you were doing work stuff. The key is to record a new voicemail message that refers to work. Don't do anything blatant, just add a simple "If you can't reach me, I'm probably working!"

It is in no way dishonest. It is just you prioritising your time. With repetition, your friends will understand. Admittedly, this will produce distance, but distance may be worth the respite.

As an aside, MIS has a similar issue with this. Her friends know they can come to her for sympathy and support. This got particularly onerous with one in particular, so I rather pointedly gave her permission to limit contact with that person. The strongly implied undertone was that the permission was also a suggestion. Yes, I could've simply ordered it, but that is counter-productive on many levels. First, I don't want to weed her friends. They're her friends. So long as they are not toxic, I choose not to be involved. Secondly, I wanted her to be able to contact when she wanted it, leaving her the pressure relief should she need it. Third, I did not want her to have to choose between following an order and helping an old friend if this person really had a legitimate issue. Orders are powerful things in the mind of a slave, and I treat them carefully as a result.

Regardless, the permission allowed her to limit contact sans crushing guilt. This person's unrelenting neediness and unwillingness to takes the steps to improve their lot in life was a huge emotional drag. The guilt from avoidance was likewise a drag. Permission to limit contact removed both.

 

[Lizzie_Borden]

But the silence. The pretty much total silence healed a part of my soul.

Silence is golden. When I've had enough of the world, I retreat. No phone, facebook, no msn, no tv.

I call it my "going into the bat-cave" time.

Occasionally, I'll break it with a little Bowie while I'm lying stretched out on the floor. It's not quite 'silence' but it's alone time.

And everyone needs that. Some people just don't realise it.

 

[Mistress_Belladonna]

Peace and quiet

It's a good thing to have for oneself and almost impossible to find when a mother and wife. I can't even imagine adding slave to the mix, easternsun! *big hug* Sounds like profound depression to me, but that could be a result of winter-blues, sweetie. Spring is near, hon. Do something, one small thing for yourself to remind you of that, my dear. Or if you can't do that, ask your master for some flowers. Silly, trite and still such a pick-me-up, at least for me! Or whatever it is that makes you smile. Just for you... outside of your other pleasing and demanding personas. You need to recharge, sweetheart.

As for Golden Silence.... It's especially hard when there is silence from a loved one. Hard to know if its a personal need or are they pulling away. Do we rest in the silence or do we attempt to reach out? If they pull back is it a rejection or do they need alone time? If we ask... we break into that time and make it about us... *smiles* I understand how wonderful silence is... when it's me being silent.

Group hug anyone?

 

[eastern sun]

It's partly the slave mentality I've developed. Saying 'I'm sorry but I just can't deal with this right now' always feels like failure and leaves me with such gut wrenching guilt. My friends call on me because they know they always can and I love that they do but lately... lately I have just been socially burnt out.

I understand this feeling, Velvet. I have it too. And it's exhausting.

Yesterday my mobile phone rang and I actually flinched. Bad sign.

(cut)

The last time I had a bad migraine, Master was so caring and I turned the phone off and lay in a dark room for a day or two. On many levels, it was actually welcome respite. The glorious knowledge that I could not be expected to contact anyone for a good 48 hours did wonders for my recovery. I suffered nausea, temporary loss of vision, terrible pain that I couldn't sleep through, believe me when I say it was not fun.

But the silence. The pretty much total silence healed a part of my soul.

And I understand this, too.

I have been accused of using migraines to gain some much-needed rest. Or indulging myself with them. Statements that always piss me off, since I'd rather rest and/or indulge myself in other ways, if I had the choice. . . .

This morning I had a funny experience. If I had a negative thought (i.e. self-critical, resentful, condemning) my head began to hurt immediately. If I had a positive thought (i.e. grateful, appreciative, complimentary), the pain would dissolve and a feeling of lightness would replace it. And it cycled back and forth from painful constriction to lightness and openness every minute or so, directly in response to the quality of my thinking.

It seemed to be a pretty clear message to focus on the more positive thoughts.

So I did.

And after a bright sunny morning teaching art and puppetry to fourth graders, I realized that I need to relax. Mentally.

Before my children were born, I was comfortable accepting that I wasn't in control. I could relax and allow things to happen. And then watch with fascination as the universe unfolded in front of me.

With the birth of my children, I've become more confused. I don't always know when to act and when to refrain from acting. When to intervene and when to allow them to experience their own mistakes. When to advocate on their behalf. When to allow them to fail. I try to control things I should just let happen. And just let things happen I should try to control.

I really cannot express how confusing this can be to me.

Especially because as a slave, I find comfort, intense pleasure and (dare I say, spiritual growth) in giving up control.

What measure of control am I supposed to exercise in my children's lives?

In my own?

This has been a recurring theme in my little life.

Today, I am certain that loosening a certain mental tautness is the key (i.e. relaxing mentally). On the other hand, if I really knew how to do it, I wouldn't be making this grand discovery for the umpteenth time.

Or maybe, the pendulum swings between too tight and too relaxed until it finds equilibrium. . . .

And where will that be?

 

[eastern sun]

Since I play the guitar, I've always liked the metaphor used in meditation instruction. . . advising the practitioner to tune their mind like the strings of a guitar. Not too tight. Not too loose.

(But really. . . what does that mean, when the laundry isn't done. There's no food in the house. The weight of the family's burden rests squarely on my shoulders. And I'm exhausted.)

I can't lighten my load of work. But I can lighten my sense of "burden."


For the record - "burden"

1. a load, especially a heavy one
2. a duty or misfortune that causes hardship, anxiety or grief; a nuisance
3. the main responsibility for achieving a specified aim or task
4. a ship's carrying capacity
5. the main theme or gist of a speech, book, or argument
6. the refrain or chorus of a song

Have you ever noticed that just defining a word often changes its meaning in your life?

I like using the dictionary.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

I have been accused of using migraines to gain some much-needed rest. Or indulging myself with them. Statements that always piss me off, since I'd rather rest and/or indulge myself in other ways, if I had the choice. . . .

This morning I had a funny experience. If I had a negative thought (i.e. self-critical, resentful, condemning) my head began to hurt immediately. If I had a positive thought (i.e. grateful, appreciative, complimentary), the pain would dissolve and a feeling of lightness would replace it. And it cycled back and forth from painful constriction to lightness and openness every minute or so, directly in response to the quality of my thinking.

It seemed to be a pretty clear message to focus on the more positive thoughts.

So I did.

And after a bright sunny morning teaching art and puppetry to fourth graders, I realized that I need to relax. Mentally.

Yeah, I have experienced this too. My business partner is counter-productive to me harnessing this kind of karma however. He's obscenely healthy, reads every self-help book known to man on spiritual growth, positive thinking and all that stuff.

On more than one occasion he has informed me that my poor health is a direct result of my psychological negativity and the fact I believe I have poor health rather than just throw the meds in the bin and announce to the universe with complete conviction that I don't.

That makes me nothing short of batshit homicidal, especially recently.

It also makes me fatalistic, belligerent, negative and downright stroppy with the universe at large.

Which he says makes him perfectly correct.



So although I know that positive, asset based thinking is good for me, I never get very far down that path before something thwarts my good karma and I wind up screaming 'Fuck It!' at the top of my lungs. It's a slippery totem pole and to be honest, most days I just don't have the energy or inclination to be suzy sunshine. I am not and never will be one of life's happy people, whose default state is radiant.

Before my children were born, I was comfortable accepting that I wasn't in control. I could relax and allow things to happen. And then watch with fascination as the universe unfolded in front of me.

With the birth of my children, I've become more confused. I don't always know when to act and when to refrain from acting. When to intervene and when to allow them to experience their own mistakes. When to advocate on their behalf. When to allow them to fail. I try to control things I should just let happen. And just let things happen I should try to control.

I really cannot express how confusing this can be to me.

Especially because as a slave, I find comfort, intense pleasure and (dare I say, spiritual growth) in giving up control.

What measure of control am I supposed to exercise in my children's lives?

In my own?

This has been a recurring theme in my little life.

Today, I am certain that loosening a certain mental tautness is the key (i.e. relaxing mentally). On the other hand, if I really knew how to do it, I wouldn't be making this grand discovery for the umpteenth time.

Or maybe, the pendulum swings between too tight and too relaxed until it finds equilibrium. . . .

And where will that be?

I can relate to this. Although I don't have kids, what that means is that Master and I spend much more time alone together and can obsess over our dynamic in a way that most D/s couples/polys/whatevers with kids in the equation simply don't have time for. I get to sit and wonder whether my slavery is still healthy for me or whether I actually resent shutting the underwear drawer he's left open for the three millionth time without complaint.

I wonder where I'll be in a few years time and how I will be affected if something should happen to end our relationship. I had a hard enough time breaking up with vanilla parters, ending a term of slavery would be so very, very hard.

I wonder if I rely on Master and his guidance a little too much. I've become accustomed now to being able to give my opinion when asked, safe in the knowledge that the hard choices will not fall to me. I know I am successful in starting my business and that it requires a great deal of self assurance, self discipline and control but that has almost no bearing on my dynamic with Master.

Anyway. Enough of my angsty ramblings. I thought I had just made it clear that I should be more fucking positive!

*facepalm*

 

[Netzach]

Yeah, I have experienced this too. My business partner is counter-productive to me harnessing this kind of karma however. He's obscenely healthy, reads every self-help book known to man on spiritual growth, positive thinking and all that stuff.

On more than one occasion he has informed me that my poor health is a direct result of my psychological negativity and the fact I believe I have poor health rather than just throw the meds in the bin and announce to the universe with complete conviction that I don't.

That makes me nothing short of batshit homicidal, especially recently.

It also makes me fatalistic, belligerent, negative and downright stroppy with the universe at large.

Which he says makes him perfectly correct.



So although I know that positive, asset based thinking is good for me, I never get very far down that path before something thwarts my good karma and I wind up screaming 'Fuck It!' at the top of my lungs. It's a slippery totem pole and to be honest, most days I just don't have the energy or inclination to be suzy sunshine. I am not and never will be one of life's happy people, whose default state is radiant.



I can relate to this. Although I don't have kids, what that means is that Master and I spend much more time alone together and can obsess over our dynamic in a way that most D/s couples/polys/whatevers with kids in the equation simply don't have time for. I get to sit and wonder whether my slavery is still healthy for me or whether I actually resent shutting the underwear drawer he's left open for the three millionth time without complaint.

I wonder where I'll be in a few years time and how I will be affected if something should happen to end our relationship. I had a hard enough time breaking up with vanilla parters, ending a term of slavery would be so very, very hard.

I wonder if I rely on Master and his guidance a little too much. I've become accustomed now to being able to give my opinion when asked, safe in the knowledge that the hard choices will not fall to me. I know I am successful in starting my business and that it requires a great deal of self assurance, self discipline and control but that has almost no bearing on my dynamic with Master.

Anyway. Enough of my angsty ramblings. I thought I had just made it clear that I should be more fucking positive!

*facepalm*

Please read the essay "welcome to cancerland" by Barbara Ehrenreich before you lose your sense of being stroppy entirely.

I think anger has been entirely underrated, actually. I think there's something wrong with people who want to hide any vestige of anger rather than considering it from all angles.

I basically am still here and I dealt with a year of CD that culminated in a blood clot that could have killed me, ragingly angry at the system that my life was being propped up by. I'm still here.

The negativity didn't kill me. No one wondering if estrogen based BC is a good idea for a Crohn's patient (inherently suceptible to clotting) almost did.

"Think happy thoughts and don't complain" people create these dangerous gaps in PT/MD communication, I blame that contingent. Yes it doesn't hurt to be positive, but it doesn't hurt to be negative either, it hurts not to allow yourself to just be. Not complaining has to do with the comfort levels and health of the people around a sick person, it has NOTHING to do with their own.

Laughter and South Park and distraction are good too. Throwing things and crying have their place.

I get mad, mad, mad at my partners. I get really mad. And I make paintings or write about it and then let it go.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Please read the essay "welcome to cancerland" by Barbara Ehrenreich before you lose your sense of being stroppy entirely.

I think anger has been entirely underrated, actually. I think there's something wrong with people who want to hide any vestige of anger rather than considering it from all angles.

I basically am still here and I dealt with a year of CD that culminated in a blood clot that could have killed me, ragingly angry at the system that my life was being propped up by. I'm still here.

The negativity didn't kill me. No one wondering if estrogen based BC is a good idea for a Crohn's patient (inherently suceptible to clotting) almost did.

"Think happy thoughts and don't complain" people create these dangerous gaps in PT/MD communication, I blame that contingent. Yes it doesn't hurt to be positive, but it doesn't hurt to be negative either, it hurts not to allow yourself to just be. Not complaining has to do with the comfort levels and health of the people around a sick person, it has NOTHING to do with their own.

Laughter and South Park and distraction are good too. Throwing things and crying have their place.

I get mad, mad, mad at my partners. I get really mad. And I make paintings or write about it and then let it go.

*contented textbook good karma sigh*

I you.

I you on so many levels.

 

[Netzach]

Aw, please, any time you want validation for being pissed off I'm your girl.

Speaking from the D side of the equation, I know that H doesn't often feel entitled to be mad at me.

But I prod him to tell me about it. And then it's not really that bad. If you can trust me to stick pins in your tushy you can trust me not to throw you out if you get mad at me.

 

[ORCAA]

Greetings and Be Well , Thread makes Good reading ..

 

[BiBunny]

If you can trust me to stick pins in your tushy you can trust me not to throw you out if you get mad at me.

I have such a problem with this, and I don't know why.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Aw, please, any time you want validation for being pissed off I'm your girl.

Speaking from the D side of the equation, I know that H doesn't often feel entitled to be mad at me.

But I prod him to tell me about it. And then it's not really that bad. If you can trust me to stick pins in your tushy you can trust me not to throw you out if you get mad at me.

Yeah. I do know that and Master is generally quite indulgent if I'm genuinely stressed. He's a bottler though. You get no warning that he's failing to cope with some aspect of his life until he's a few deep breaths from going on a mad axe wielding rampage. He doesn't get my daily angst at all.

It stems from our childhoods I think, as all things do to one degree or another. His parents are the most amicably divorced couple on planet Earth and never raised their voices to each other, or to him. My family bicker. They bicker over everything all the time. It's just how we communicate. I'm not a bottler. I need to vent and stomp and yell 'no fair' until I feel better about my life and I need to do that most days. He's indulgent, but he doesn't get my need to be a whiny, angsty, cranky bitch. After the time we've spent together, he still doesn't see that it's therapy in and of itself. Once I'm stomped out I'm a perfectly happy girl again. I don't need my life fixing and I'm not a raving hypocrite if I change direction with my next breath. This is how I function. He indulges it because he's learned that it works but to him, it all seems a childish, pointless waste of energy.

Take computer games.

He'll sit there cucumber cool playing the most difficult and advance games that the Japanese can come up with. He'll go over levels and areas again and again and again until he's collected everything he can collect and achieved everything he can achieve (yup, OCD). He loves doing this and he never gets flustered.

I'll play less sophisticated games (usually designed for 12yr olds) and I'll hack my way through it from beginning to end, yelling at the screen and my hapless digital avatar until the air is blue. I'll get pissed off when I find things difficult and pissed off when some logic problem eludes me but I'm still having a good time.

He still does not see that. We're like chalk and apples when it comes to things like that.