Suffering

While on my flight to Japan, I started blogging...

Here's what came out. 

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Suffering

It's been a week and I feel like I'm still processing DO. Thanks to everyone who's been around while I processed. 

The main thing that's come out of it all for me is the idea of suffering. 

I had an amazing scene. It was great. I was happy. I felt used in a good way. 

But I still felt open. 

Ever get your hair done or blow dry your hair??

These days they always say to finish with cold water/air. See, the warm water/air opens up the follicles on your hair. The cold helps close the cuticle, sealing in whatever you've done. 

I came back to my hotel room post scene and I felt like that open cuticle. I'd had my scene/treatment, but I was still open. 

And I didn't know how to close it. 

I stumbled around in a haze. I ended up at cigars boots and chocolate searching for something. A dear friend offered me a puff on his cigar. I mistook the gesture as him wanting to ash on me. I said I was on the edge of a really submissive head space and him ashing on my would probably drop me pretty hard. He said he was down for that and that he had canes. 

A little ash, a trip to retrieve a toy bag, and down to the dungeon we go. 

At first I couldn't get comfortable. I was flat on a table and just nothing was right. Then I tried standing and laying the top half of my body on the table. It let me get more physical contact and I thought that's what I was missing. 

But something was still not right. Nothing I could do would make it right. And then the tears came. Not the pretty crying, mind you. I'm talking about full on sobs/not able to communicate. 

But the joy of playing with a dear old friend was that he held me till I was done, packed up our stuff, and took my outside for a couple of drags off his cigarette. 

It was outside the holiday inn that cool night that it finally came to me: suffering. 

I'm a masochist. I like pain. It gets me hot. 

But that's just for fun. 

What really seems to fulfill me is suffering. Not in general, but for someone. 

And it just clicked. I want to take more pain than I enjoy cause it makes someone else happy. I like being on orgasm restriction because I'm suffering for someone else's pleasure. 

And on Sunday afternoon, I didn't feel as if I'd suffered enough. I'd built it up in my head and I was prepared to lay and be flayed open physically, mentally, or emotionally for his pleasure. 

And that's one of the issues I see sometimes with distance/online. I talk a big game and the text covers atoms were hot and heavy. But in hindsight, the scene we had was just the scene we needed to have. We were feeling each other out, re-learning how we fit together. It wasn't a first scene, it wasn't an 100th scene, it was someplace in the middle, where it belonged. 

So now what?

I took a class with Miss Amy from Seattle on teaching from below, ie communication. One of the things she said was that we have to be with our partners where they are that day, and that that can change day to day. I've been realizing that I need to treat myself the same way. This realization around suffering was kind of huge. Over the course of the weekend, I took many layers off and when I went to put the, back on, I'd lost the one that hid that concept from me. 

So I'm really not the same person I was before. 

And it'll take time to figure out this new me. 

Toys...

Don't know how much of this is going to end up in the TMI/female anatomy range... so you've got your warning now...

So I own one dildo... I used to have a 2nd till it started to degrade, but the one I have still is the very first dildo I ever bought.

Well I didn't buy it.  My best friend bought it for me for my 21st christmas.  We were shopping in the strip club district in Baltimore after getting my first tattoo and she declared that I needed one.  In to the store we went, not as wide eyed as the average 21 year olds I hope, but still young.  We had characteristics (make sure it's got balls so you could put it in a strap on if needed), but none of them were really about how it would feel for me to use on me.

So we left with a 8" black, doc johnson, veiny dildo in a clear plastic bag (which we made her submissive carry around for the night).

9 years later, that's still pretty much the only insertable I have.  Well, I've got 3 butt plugs (including one with a fox tail), but just the one dildo.

I've got rope and clamps and at least 6 different things that vibrate.

But just the one dildo.

That I rarely if ever use.

And it's not like I'm not someone who gets off on penetration.  I squirt like a fire house from 2-4 fingers inside of me with not clitoral stimulation.

So why don't I ever masturbate that way?

Well with my own hands, my arms aren't the right length to really get a good fucking.  So tonight I got an order to insert something, and I figured, I'll go back to the good 'ol dildo that I've had longer than I've known most of the people reading this.

And it felt good... ok... sort of fine?

It's just not right.

And I think I realize this ever couple of years but I don't do anything about it.

It's too long.  It hits places that don't feel fun (at the level of stimulation I easily reach on my own... got someone's fist inside of me and my cervix is ready for a pounding).  I guess I was good so I got permission to cum... and as soon as the quasi/sort of orgasm faded, I was immediately sick to my stomach and nauseous.  That's probably not good.  It's hours later and I still feel a bit out of sorts.

So length... I need something shorter.

Girth?  I think it's ok.  I don't think it's too big.

Material.... I guess that's the hard (giggle) part.  It's not an actual hard penis.  It doesn't feel like a hard penis in my hand, my mouth, or my vagina.  It's too flexible in certain directions and to firm in others.  It's just a copy, a facsimile, of what I really want inside of me.

And maybe I'm holding it wrong... maybe I'm making it rub against the not fun/nausea causing places by grasping the balls of the dildo (turned upwards towards my clit).  Maybe that adds some sort of differential pressure on the dildo causing it to rub the wrong way.

And the orgasm... it was just.... it wasn't worth the hassle.  It felt good.  I was obviously rubbing at least part of the right spot with the dildo....

But then it was gone... there was no release no relaxation no completion...

It's like the undertow just ripped all of the energy out of the wave before it crashed on shore...

You could see that the water arrived on the shore... but there was no impact... no great force with the wave.

Followed shortly by the feeling sick and icky.

And add in some brain weasels that I should probably actually be blogging about but they're not ready to make themselves known.

So instead I talk about sex toys....

I should go shopping sometime soon.....

Analyzing Data

Oh yea.... I have a blog.

So I don't know the answer to this... but I've been working with my psychologist on the beginnings relationship stuff.

So I have some data... but I can't decide which theory explains the data.

Observations: I continually enter into secondary/non primary/play relationships.  I say that I would like to have a primary relationship.

Theory 1: I want a primary relationship but somehow don't believe that I deserve one, so I keep taking what I can get.

Theory 2: I don't really want a primary relationship but I haven't gotten over the societal programming that that's what I should want to do.

I'm pretty sure that the truth is some mix of theories 1 and 2....

If theory 1 is true, then I can see a lot of self esteem work to be done.  That's actually some stuff that I'm already working on.  I'm training for a half marathon but that's the end goal of my working out these days.  I'm running so I can finish the race, not so that I can change my body.  I think I'm going to start doing some more core work, not to be thinner, but to be able to do some more complicated bondage stuff.  Every day is a struggle (I know I'm not unique in this), but I feel like things are getting easier/better.

If theory 2 is true, then I need to re-examine what my end game of happiness is...

I went to two amazing classes today by Stefano and Shay on bottoming.  It's all still rolling around in my brain, but the first thing that really came out to me is how important that kink is to me...

I think about settling down with my 2.5 kids and my white picket fence... and how that's not complete without a collar and a secret basement dungeon.

It's almost like the collar and the basement dungeon are more important than the kids and the fence... or maybe even than the having someone all to myself...

I'm going to keep looking at the data I have.... but I assume there will be more posts on this topic as my brain figures out what it wants to do....

Being a Grown Up

Every year I go to DisneyWorld with my extended family.  We go for a week and ride rides and generally hang out.

I was working with my dad planning things and I realized that all of a sudden, I was a grown up.

No, it's not the first year I had to but an adult ticket instead of a kid ticket :-P

But I bought my own ticket and my own flight.

It's not the first year I've done that, but I don't really remember when it went from poor college/grad student who got everything paid for to grown up with a job who pays their own expenses...

I think part of the conundrum I was facing is that my life isn't what I thought being an adult looked like.  I was talking to my therapist about this last week.

You look up to your parents...  At 30 my parents had 2 kids and a mortgage.  They were adults.

At 30, I make good money, am single, and live in an apartment.

But for my generation, my peer group, my life is perfectly normal and grown up.

I had a play date on Sunday which on top of being awesome, really grounded me in not feeling unusual.  I think  hang out a lot with people who's lives look more like the ideal in my head.. settled down, house, etc.  It ends up making me feel like I'm so far behind.

But between Sunday's play date and some good time out with co-workers, I'm really seeing that I'm not unusual, that there's not something stunted about my development that's left me behind where I "should" be.

How big is your boat?

Today in therapy we were talking about loneliness...

And I kept coming back to feeling like I was adrift....

So we went with it and my therapist asked me to describe what I meant.

Out flowed a way more detailed image than I knew was inside of my head.

I'm not in a boat... I'm in an emergency raft.  There's no propulsion, but I won't get swamped.  There's no luxury food or anything really fun.

But I'll survive.

"Are you alone in your raft?" asked the doc.

I am... but other boats do keep passing by.  Sometimes you're riding the same wave; sometimes the waves push you apart.

It's like even when riding the same wave, I keep all of my stuff neatly organized inside my own raft.  Others see my raft and acknowledge its/my presence, but have no clue what goes on inside.

"Is everyone in a raft?" she inquired.

I imagine that people are on different types of boats.  Some share their boat with someone else, a partner, a lover, a family, etc.  Some are on big boats with propulsion while others still  drift in the currents like I seem to.

"Well do you ever try to call out for help?"

And then I realized that I'm scared I'll swamp someone else's boat.

It's like I can't tell how big someone's boat is.  It's like I'm scared to send up emergency flares because someone else in a raft might hurt/injury themselves trying to help or they're get there and I'll swamp their raft/boat with all of my crap....

So I sit in my raft making superficial connections when the waves push me against someone else... but I keep drifting off just me, alone, in my raft.

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It was pretty intense how quickly I unpacked this whole elaborate analogy of my life.

Feeding the Introvert

Sometimes blogging takes chocolate and tissues.

So I had therapy today like I do every Wednesday.  It's hard to do it in the middle of the day and go back to work, but that's what I do.

We're working these days on giving myself credit for things I do (like go to therapy every week) and permission to take care of myself.

Although I've learned a lot of extrovert skills, deep down I'm an introvert.  Large parties take a lot of energy.  We made a plan for me to try and attend a "party" on Sunday (yes Wonderland) and what I should do self care wise to make that more likely to happen.

We also talked about staying in to feed the introvert vs staying in 'cause the depression and/or anxiety is overwhelming and learning to figure out the difference in those two states and how to treat them.

So I do a lot of hard work for 45 minutes, drive back to work, pick up a piece of pizza, and sit back down at my desk.

We have a company wide meet at 4 which went well...

And then happy hour...

My cute little start up of 10 people is not 110 people.

They rented out half a resturant for our happy hour... which still left a standing room only space crowded with people...

Oh... and booze... lots of booze.

The new anti anxiety medicine means I can't drink.

Except for my birthday where I skipped me meds, I haven't been drinking since december....

And there weren't any non alcoholic drinks.

Pitchers of margaritas (two kinds), sangria, and ice buckets full of beer.

"Oh go to the other side of the place and just say you're with the group and order a soda," I was told.  I gathered one of the 3 other people I know at the company that don't drink and headed to the bar... where we waited for 10 minutes without being acknowledged.

So I give up and am making my rounds to head out.

"stay and have fun" says one co worker gesturing with their glass.

"Why are you leaving so early" says another trying to get me to stay.

Now I'm trying not to break down before i get to the door.

'cause I don't belong.

I don't have the reserves to deal with this many people and this much alcohol that I can't have without easy options.

I make it outside and go back to the (empty) office to make it look like i haven't been crying.

I make it to the car and drive home to call my mommy (which fixes everything).

Self improvement is damn hard.  How do people have time for it and a job and other commitments?

I just wish I didn't feel so broken.. that it didn't take so much effort just to function.

My therapist helps a huge deal.  She pointed out that as an introvert, sitting in an open office layout 50 hours a week is really draining... no wonder I don't want to do anything on the weekends and spend Friday night just trying to finally clear my head.

I wish I was sometimes still numb.. that I could playing along and hide in plain site and not feel a huge weight on my chest while I did it.

It's just getting so hard to feign interests any more... it takes so much effort...

And with everything else.. my reserves are shot.

A practicing submissive

So.......

I keep staring at a blank blog post.

This has been trying to come out of my brain for a while....

And yet I sit here staring at the blankness hoping something will start to trickle out.

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I don't feel submissive anymore.

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That was harder to get out than I thought it would be.

It started when the SF Service Salon group started last year.  Several people pointed it out to me as something that would be up my alley.

It totally, on paper, looked like something that would interest me... but I had this deep visceral dislike of the whole thing.

At the time I saw it as a fundamental difference in opinions in service and submission.  I don't get filled at all from service by itself.  What's filling (what was filling?) to me was the service and the symbiotic relationship with the individual.

It's like boot blacking.  Blacking at a stand is about providing a service... and you get tipped for that service.  I'm a jovial happy person, but not particularly submissive.

Doing Sir's (a hypothetical Sir of course since I don't have one) booth in the privacy of home is completely different.  It's a back and forth of energy between two people and the boots is just the medium for that exchange.

So fast forward months... add in two or three different medicine regimes and two differing diagnoses...

And I'm not feeling submissive at all.

It doesn't have any draw anymore.

Raunchy kinky sex sounds fun.

Beatings sound ok (not even that's drawing me in).

Basically rough sex with some hair pulling is all that seems interesting (again in theory 'cause, well, I suck at scheduling).

Well and then not rough, vanilla-ish sex sounds good too.

Everything else just seems.... fake?

No that's not the feeling....

shallow?

empty?

unfulfilling?

None of those are right but the right words doesn't want to come out (and forcing it just makes it burry down deeper in my sub conscious).

I also have some friends who gave up on kink.... and seem to be really happy.  They decided it wasn't worth it and gave the husband/kids track a try and seem to have more fulfilling lives (yea I know grass is greener but hey, this is my pity party so I'm allowed to admire that grass).

It's also just not been a great time to be kinky.  I've purposely stayed the fuck out of all of the drama on fetlife.  It just seems like... like power struggles and feelings of community... where no community exists.  I never ever went to an event and thought I wasn't 100% responsible for my person, that I wasn't the only person who would stick up for me, but that's just me.

It just makes me want to run away screaming from everything kinky and make do with my occasional (very occasional) fucks with kink-light boys.

But I'm not very submissive.... it feels like a role I played for a dozen or so years on a show that's been canceled...

Med Changes

So I'm not a week off of the mood stabilizer.

I don't feel flat anymore... I get the normal ups and downs of life.

I'm not nearly as tired as I was (though I'm still sleeping a lot).

My sex drive is back with a vengeance.

-BUT-

I can't sleep through the night to save my life.  I'm at only one wake up around 3 am.

I'm still tired which may be the anti anxiety or the not sleeping through the night.

I still have no tolerance for drama, foolishness, some silliness, or conflict.  The good is it doesn't affect me.  The bad is I just pack up and walk away from all of it.

Another week on this and then we see the doc about what he thinks we should try next...

Blank Canvas

I'm not sure what's going to come out here.

Sometimes you just start writing 'cause you can tell something wants out but you're not 100% sure what it may be.

It's before 8pm on a Friday night and I'm ready for bed.  I'd say it was lame except it makes me feel happy.

Tryst is tonight at the Citadel.  I kind of wish I had the energy for it...

But I also  know that I'm not really in a place to be trying to meet new people.

I haven't broached poly yet with my new psychologist.  We're just starting to work on some identity stuff and relationship stuff so we're eventually going to get close to it.

We did start looking at what is important to me.  I feel bad saying no if a relationship looks good on paper but I don't get any kind of "spark."  She thinks that spark/chemistry is important to me and that it's more than ok to take a couple of dates to see if it's there.

But we both agree that I've got bigger fish to fry more immediately.  I see the new psychiatrist on Monday.  I think I want completely off the mood stabilizer and them maybe a different anti anxiety drug...

I've also in all aspects need to work on taking care of me... eating, sleeping, meditation, exercise (once I'm not exhausted all the time), and not letting my care-taking nature drain me.

I forget it all the time... but I'm an introvert...  I sit at work in an open office layout with people around all the time...  That's really draining.  I'm taking Monday off (for the doctor and some other fun stuff) but am working Sunday in exchange.  I'm kind of excited for the quiet and how much work I might get done.

The introvert needs to be charged more often and it's been dragging me home alone away from people until it gets what it needs.

And the dating won't happen till the meds are changed and the introvert is re-charged.

And then we'll address poly.

Well maybe...

I'm not looking to find more secondary guys.  I really enjoy the ones I've got.. the play partners, the out of town people, the locals, the fuck buddies...  Whatever you call them, they're great.

What I'm looking for looks enough like a "regular" (not the right word) boyfriend that I can frame it that way with the psychologist and then adjust it to what I need if I don't feel the need to discuss poly with her.  Right now I don't, mostly 'cause that's not what's causing me any sort of mental load.

We'll see....

This took 45 minutes to come out... I think I'll stop now.... but we'll see if more decides to drip out of my brain over the course of the weekend....

Self Growth

I seem to be looking at a lot of that these days.

I wish I could schedule it for not when I've spent $350 flying to DC for an event...

Last weekend I went to DOWF in DC.  The event it self is great.  I totally recommend it.

I, strangely enough, was miserable.

There's nothing anyone else could do about it and I didn't want to make it a big deal... but yea, it's not for me.

So what things did I learn??  It's still coming out but we'll see what the list looks like right now as I lay here in bed with a bit of the sniffles with my ears still plugged from the flight...

- I can't work reg
The first day wasn't bad, but people are stupid and I just can't deal with them anymore.  Much like I know I can't work security if I ever want to have fun as a bottom at a kink event, I'm putting registration on the same list.

- I need to make evening plans
During the day I can go to classes but at night, I need to have plans.  Without plans, I'm not gonna hang out in the dungeon and watch things... I'm going to watch TV in my hotel room and go to bed early.  Surrender was different 'cause I'd have at least one boot blacking shift during a party so I had stuff to do and was able to socialize there.

- I shouldn't go by myself.
My friends are all awesome, but they're so awesome they're busy.  Busy enough that I can hide a near melt down... that's not true.. I didn't melt down... I don't think... I dunno

- These meds are done
I want off.  I'd rather take anxiety and the 2-4 nights a month of no sleep due to anxiety than the crap I deal with now.  No alcohol and not caffeine makes me a pretty lame person.  I have no social lubricant and I can't deal with not a lot of sleep.  That's not the way I imagined 30.  I also have random generalized crowd and driving anxiety which is completely new with the medication.

I started another bullet point... and I have no idea what I was going to write.  It's 9pm and I'm about to go to bed.  I've got therapy at lunch time tomorrow.  That's gonna be a huge ball of fun......

Literary strength

I'm a firm believer that books have totally helped form my personality. My two favorite books are Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre.

I was watching one of the new Jane eyre movies on the plane and I realized I have 2 favorite books of the story. The first is when Mr. Rochester confesses his love ("it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.")  I realized my second is when she leaves him.

For dear readers not familiar with the story, on their wedding day it comes to light that Rochester is married and his wife, who is mad, has been locked in the attic the whole time Jane has been living at Thornfield Hall. Jane sees everything she wants torn from her.

 But Rochester offers it back. He wants to take her to Europe where no one will know she's not his wife. Who would know, he asks.

I would, she replies.

Removing the time period issues (why doesn't he just divorce the crazy wife), what strikes me is Jane's sense of self. She's not willing to be with the man she loves (who's also crazy rich) if it means living a lie and compromising her own self worth in her head.

Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice does the same thing. Mr. Darcy offers to marry her mid way through the book and she declins. He's full of pride and has really been a douche. But marrying him would leave her set for life. She sticks to her no (till he changes his ways and she can see him for who he really is underneath the outer shell).

And it all leaves me thinking... Could I do the same thing?  Could I say no to everything I wanted if it came with a poison pill? Could I say no to my own Mr Rochester if being with him required a personal or emotional sacrifice?

I kind of feel like I did it once. I changed courses. I could have kept in the status quo even though it wasn't right for me....  But that was more tony stark than Edward Rochester.

But I was younger and more idealistic.

Now???

Who knows what I'd do...

Saying no

Or why it's not, for me, a consent issue.

By consent issue I mean a fear of consent being violated.  That goes along with the "I'd say no, but I don't think he'd respect it."

I think that can be a lot of why people say no.

My inability to say no is much more rooted in self loathing.

"If I say no now, I might not get to say yes to anyone ever again."

It's quite a fatalistic thought...  Logic brain knows it's not true, but emotional brain keeps running the following script.....

"You're plain if not downright not attractive... and fat... don't for get fat....  If someone is interested grab the fuck on and ride that till they lose interest 'cause there might not be another one."

I know, I'm not very nice to me.

It's a problem I fall into fast with internet dating.. 'cause there's a sunk cost.  I messaged or they messaged, we chatted for however long it took to get coffee logistics worked out.  Given some of my social super powers, they feel comfortable and have poured out bits and pieces of their soul to me....

And I don't feel the spark...

You say thanks, but no thanks at that point, right?

Well I should.. but my emotions get involved.  It would be mean to say no.  Maybe I can force it and it will work.  I'm not trying hard enough to make it work.

I don't have problems saying no to people who I meet in person.  "Do you want to play" "No thanks I'm good."  But someone I've talked to online for a week?  Somehow I feel like I've got to try to see if the investment I already made will pan out...

Well... you see a problem.. what are you going to do about it.

A dear friend held my hand all day long and wouldn't let me hide from my own patterns.  It's a good thing our brains won't sync in their crazy cycles so one of us can be the rock for the other.

I'm gonna stop the online dating.. for not.. for forever?  Who knows.  I didn't take the profiles down... 'cause that's too hard quite yet.  But I put a message on them saying to message if interested and we could set up a munch meeting.  I wanna meet them in person (safely) faster so that I don't feel the investment.

I start seeing my new therapist on Thursday.  I'm really nervous, but I'm hoping to go over more of the bad mental thought processes about self dislike.  The last time I was in therapy, I was so bad off (thank you grad school) we were focused on survival.  Now, I kind of want to be happy, whatever that looks like,

So until the next break down, dear readers, Good night... and Good morning.

Attached Men: My Super Power!

It really is my super power.

I find attached men everywhere.

They fall into my lap left and right.

I should start saying no right?

I mean, I want to find my own guy to get attached too...

But I look and don't find.

So do I say no to fun now.... and leave myself open for mr. right-ish to come along?

Or do i keep busy the way I am with enough parts to add up to... a half?  maybe 2/3rds?

Why do these thoughts happen when I should be sleep?

Scheduling my masochist

I'm a masochist.

I think that's pretty apparent.

I've done some really fucked up shit and loved it....

My I have this huge fear....

That maybe, on that day that I've scheduled that date....

The masochist won't show up.

The crazy girl who gets beat with a T-ball bat will be replaced by the girl who wants to be held and cuddled and starts sobbing over a bare hand spanking.

With the busy lives we live... sometimes I'm booking play dates months out.

And I'm scared the wrong me will show up for the wrong sadist.

That I won't be what they need for a successful play date..

That I should just suck it up and do it...

I know it's all me... but sometimes it's hard having my mood and abilities swing so far from one side to another....

Cobbling together a partner

How many parts make up a whole???

I was privately journsling about the number of men in my life these days. The number is on the rise. 

I feel busier. 

If I wanted, I could be busy most nights.

But it doesn't feel as fulfilling as I'd imagined. There are still holes. 

I think I've cast the same role too many times. I'm pretty good at the legitimate fuck buddy.   When I say legitimate, I mean they're actually a buddy that I fuck: we've got some interests in common and would actually be friends even if the sex wasn't happening. 

I'm not so good at filling the "great passionate partner" role.  You know, that person who instantaneously makes you wet and grabs you and pulls you into their arms. 

Or maybe that doesn't exist. Maybe I read too many romance novels. 

But I see my friends and read about others.... And there does seem to be something I'm missing... Some passion or sparks that I don't yet have fulfilled. 

But I don't know exactly what that is yet...

Burning Desires

I lived a blessed childhood.  I never wanted for anything.  I mean, I had the normal childhood wants for toys and candy, but there was never anything that I needed that I ever wanted for.

I look around as 30 starts to approach, and I feel a little bit like I'm trying to grab sand in an hour glass as it slips by.

I look at my brother.  Once he decided he wanted to be an actor, he moved heaven and earth to make that happen.  He has an idea of what he wants to do when he graduates, in 10 years, and in 20 years.

I have some friends who always knew they wanted to be parents.  They were willing to do it on their own but they knew they wanted to have children.

I don't have a burning desire for really anything.  I have no idea what I want to do with a career... I mean I want to make enough money to not have to worry about it.. but that's not really a career.

Another friend spoke about how work was a pay check and her passion was her friends and the people in her life.

I like you all... I really do.

But I suffer no delusions that 95% of you could and would leave if you wanted/needed to.  It's not a bad thing... I just don't put much stake in anyone having to be there for me.

That's the one point that nearly made me sob when I first met my new psychiatrist.  I was talking about work and how I've found a niche as a care taker, a role I fit into pretty well.  She then asked who takes care of me.... and my eyes welled up, I grabbed a tissue, dabbed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said "well that's something I should be working on."

I feel like the wants I have in life aren't true wants, but wants driven from fear.  I want a relationship so I'm not alone.  I want a good job so I'm not poor and can't find a place to live.

It's not like I want to be an actor... because I want that... because that's what I want to do with my life.

I do ok with smaller, physical wants.

I want sex and beatings and cuddles and orgasms 'cause I like how they feel.

But I don't think I do well with figuring out the more complicated, deeper level ones....