Abeyance

I have always had the desire with this web journal to be entirely honest. If I want to write fiction I can write myself a story. Here, what I write is what I feel, experience and live. This code of mine is not always a popular choice, I suspect, because when things aren't in 'tip top' shape in my life that may not make for great reading for the people that choose to read here. However, this is not a popularity contest and the reason why I write here is most often to express myself in a way that I can't do anywhere else.

Yet, I feel a need to apologize on occasion for the content of the journal. I'm aware it has a readership and that my woes aren't really what you come here to read. On the other hand, Rollymo made the comment not so long ago that he feels that the attraction for him was that I suffer, somewhat. Anyways, you can't please them all all the time, as they say, and I don't even pretend to try.

It has reached a point where I feel obliged to apologize somewhat for the change of direction in the writing. I extended the subject matter some time ago to include not just D/s and power exchange matters but also living well and with peace and calm. I did that because it evolved that the full power exchange arrangement I was attempting to live went that way.

It was and is, in my mind, very much about satisfying and deeply connecting sex. However, through the course of my online mentoring, issues related to finding peace and living calmly and with purpose came up as part and parcel of living more like a 'doll'. I embraced those notions and extended them to include practices that I find very comforting and sustaining on a daily basis.

Pilates, yoga, meditation, mindfulness, breathing through anxiety, finding my own peace, being still and silent are all practices and remedies I use routinely to help me function well. I still take a good deal of care about my appearance and I still very much prefer to wear a dress or a skirt. I still tend to my acrylic nails every two weeks. I try hard to mind my words and my manners. All of this is in place and fulfills and comforts me.

Life with my husband is, regrettably, at this juncture, not all that I would wish it to be. I've not shied away from writing that I asked him to spank me and later, to enter into a full D/s relationship. It wasn't his idea and he would never have brought this to the table.

Sure, he has always wanted to do things his way. He's quite conservative and even old-fashioned, born in an era when women did the inside work and men did the outside work; when men looked after the finances and women looked after the children. More than that, he has some personality characteristics that make it important for him to have things done in his own inimitable style and according to his own personally defined sense of things being done properly and perfectly.

However, dominating a woman physically wasn't something that he sought, desired or thought proper. This was my desire, my need, my desperate life time longing.

My husband needs to live his life in a way that works for him. He works for himself because that suits him best. He works both day and night because he has a strong tendency to define his life through his work. He is nocturnal. This means that although he put in a full day's work he also works through the night. Lately, this has intensified. He's working in overseas markets and he needs to be up at odd times.

Also, he has not been really well for quite some time and this ill health has intensified lately. His body has been in pain and wondering if it might be the lack of sleep that is making matters so much worse, I have quietly got up each morning and left him to sleep as long as he can. This means that we rarely are awake in the bed at the same time.

It is a woman's job to comfort her sick man. I know this intellectually and my heart tells me this is the right thing to do. However, a woman is intuitively restless when her man is unwell. Her 'provider' and 'protector' is not functioning and this makes her unsettled. This is a primal instinct. There isn't a great deal we can do about it. We can make the soup and say comforting things but inside we just aren't at all happy.

For me, it's one thing to not have those heady moments of feeling I have submitted to all sorts of dastardly deeds, it's quite another to not have intimacy, sex, in my life. Sex once a week has seemed lean to me. Sex once a month feels like a mini-death and I can't really get my head around celibacy at all. I'm just not cut out for this sort of life.

I'm not suggesting that I am in the position of some permanent demise. I anticipate there is a remedy to this ill-health, although I am not at all sure from where or when it will come. I'm surprised and saddened at the minimal efforts that have been made to provide some sustenance for me in any form. He could tie my wrists, or put a gag in my mouth at night; he could do little things requiring little effort or strain. Yet, he rarely has done so. He's almost completely withdrawn to his life of work. He's clearly in a lot of physical pain and emotional turmoil.

I asked him recently if he ever read my journal and he said that he wasn't aware that I was still writing here. That said it all, in my mind. His mind is so clearly filled with worry and distress and his body so full of pain that he hasn't got the ability to address our relationship at this time. Oh, we still have a cuddle on the couch. He still sometimes rubs my back in the wee hours of the night when he comes to bed. He had me wear an anal plug when we went to the Market a few days ago which was lovely. We are still the best of friends. We still talk and interact. We both hang in there. But, it isn't the same. It is a fraction of the relationship it was a few years ago.

I read about his condition. I have tried to get him to take a lack of sleep seriously. I have identified that he may be responding to tea and in the past few days he has had a lot less pain. I think we may be onto something here.

I am trying to stay positive. I get on my with life. I still have a household of people to care for. There's still a lot of cooking and caring going on. I meditate. I assure myself  that I have strength in reserve; that I have the tools I need to get through this period of my life. I do my academic study. I am mindful of dark thoughts and I know to challenge them and to move on. But, I am lonely. This is not something I can share with anyone but with myself (and you) in this journal.

I haven't much to report in the way of wonderful D/s experiences right now. There really isn't much reason to come here at all and I apologize about that. There have been much better days but this too shall pass.