Re-emergence

My husband went to see a doctor to whom he had been referred, a sort of "wellness" expert and he had a lot to say, apparently, about the brain being the "engine of the body" and how when we have worries, we need to empty the brain. We can do this is various ways, he said. It pays to have at least two people with whom to unload and it pays to journal. He wants people to write it all down and then, probably throw it away. In other words, a lot of garbled emotions are bound to come out, not suitable for the consumption of others and so, write it and then chuck it.

I haven't thought about my writing in this way. I have used the air waves to try to modulate what comes out of my mind via my fingers; to use the fact that others will read it to try to be clear headed and to try to not allow my emotions to get away with me.

Interestingly, lately I haven't felt that I can share my thoughts in quite the same way as I have done in the past. It's been a very tough year for me at home. My husband has been very unwell, but I see that, for the meantime at least, he's really much better. The emotional pain was better left alone; better that I handle it in my very personal way, which is fundamentally, to retreat into myself and to find my strength to live my life as best I could in the new way that presented itself to me. Without an "owner" at hand, I've just done the best I could on my own.

My husband has, quite suddenly, sprung to life. He wants to re-engage and he said to me this morning that I seem a bit removed. I don't mean for that to be the case. I guess it is my mind trying to process the new situation.

I enjoy being controlled. I've missed the dynamic between us a great deal.It's been harder than I dare put into words to not have that in my life and I had to retreat to a place in my mind where it was less painful for me; to live out my life nearly all this year as if our love was platonic. I understand that this isn't necessarily representative of the reality as it might be seen by him. He was ill and probably didn't see it as I saw it. But, for me it was a petit mal. I was in some sort of grief state and words spilled out onto the Internet, I decided, were not going to help.

If he is ready to re-connect with me in this way, obviously, I'm more than delighted. I tend to take a while to come right out of the burrow in trying times; never quite sure when the danger has passed. If it has passed, and he tells me this morning in clear language that it has passed, then I'm grateful and ready for the doll to come back down off the shelf and lose herself in the pleasure and joy of feeling all that lovely control. That has always been where I am happiest and most authentically myself.