It has occurred to me that Daddy is right.....duh! Of course he is, he is about most everything. In an older post (Babble) I go on and on about how Daddy wants me to blog more even if I don't believe there is something to blog about. I was stuck under the impression that this is my blog strictly dedicated to D/s. Meaning if there hasn't been anything going on that I could relate to D/s then it doesn't belong here. Why? I'm truly not so sure. Maybe I can blame it on my need to have certain things in my life in a row. I'm a hodgepodge of many things, both organized and mass chaos. I suppose I viewed this as my one place just for things related to D/s. However, I had a moment of clarity for however long it lasts. I am apart of D/s, I am apart of ttwd with Daddy. Meaning that the majority of my life, thoughts that I have, or the insignificant actions going on around me is still in a sense apart of this lifestyle. My D/s isn't separated, its integrated.
There has been small things here and there that has happened, a wonderful night a week ago, a quickie yesterday, being reminded in small ways of my place, however I haven't felt the need to write about it. Those moments felt like they were just mine to hold. Today however I just need to write in general. Not truly just about ttwd, but just me as apart of it.
I'm starting to believe I own a stronger will than I ever thought I did. A need to feel heard and understood has been like a fire in my veins. I don't necessarily need to feel like I am right, but just that I am heard. I simply take comfort in knowing that I am heard, that the things I say even if they aren't right, aren't ignored.
My patience isn't what I thought it was. I used to pride myself on being a slightly patient person, no where near perfect, but I had the ability to let my impatience and frustrations roll off of me quickly. I would snap, and then I would basically tell myself to get over it apologizing to whoever felt my momentary wrath. That has diminished a bit. It takes me a little longer to let go of the emotions, and because of that I become angrier because I am mad at myself.
Handling stress is a weak point for me. I can handle the relative day to day stress, however if anything is added to that I become a huge confusing mess. This only seems to be a problem while I am in school, and before the school year starts I await the moment it comes. I told Daddy to prepare for it as well, because we all knew it was coming, it seemed inevitable. And yes, it came, and is still here actually.
I both need and despise routine. I need a routine, day to day, in and out, this is what has to happen. I hate that. I hate that I need it, and I hate that I can't seem to be productive without it. I always had thoughts in my head that at any moment I could decide to do something and I would have the ability to do it. Yet, when it comes to those moments I am consumed with stress leaving me unable to enjoy the spontaneity of it. I need plans, I need patterns.
Also adding new routines to my existing routines is like running repeatedly into a brick wall until I find away to balance it....and grab a sledgehammer. I think that was one of my biggest issues when starting ttwd with Daddy. Suddenly there were new expectations and rules that I needed to incorporate into my existing life, it was and is still difficult at times. Things like making Daddy's plate was hard to remember to do in the beginning, however now that has become like second nature. However other things like wearing make-up twice a week or saying thank you within an expected time limit are harder for me to remember, they haven't been incorporated as easily.
I live with a constant never ending disgust with myself. Mostly image. I can't stand the way I look. I am over weight, and as much as I hate it, I honestly do little to nothing to change it. Daddy wants me to be healthier, meaning lose the excess weight you know...the weight that kills people, and eat better. It is a good rule for me to have, yet I do nothing about it. I'm truly not sure why either. I'll admit I'm not the nicest person in the gym, partially because I feel stupid, I look horrible, I can't stand being hot, blah blah blah. I'm whining now sorry. Mostly I think I'm just defeated. I get motivation to change myself, and it's like a fire when it comes!! I declare that THIS time it's gonna be it, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna change my life, I'm gonna look and be better. And I go to the gym, and I pound it out, I watch what I eat, and soon I find myself back to why even bother. I blame time restraint as one reason why it's so hard for me. Between work, school, my daughter, and Daddy, I feel like I am spread thin. I feel like dedicating myself 3-4 times a week to the gym takes to much out of me and it's expensive as hell. So I start believing in "one day." The magical "one day" when everything lines up and it just all works out. And then I just stop. I'm pretty sure Daddy doesn't believe in me anymore either.
I find talking and explaining myself one of the hardest things to do. In fact it usually just results in tears, and me not knowing why I feel the way I do. I am a mess. Sometimes I think I need help, but I've been down that road and I can't say it helped me in any way except to know how to appear like everything is fine. I was taught what a good mask looks like, and I beautified mine.
All in all I'm not actually in a mood while writing this, it sounds kinda depressing after rereading it. However, I think I just truly needed to babble.
No comments:
Post a Comment