All he said was "Hi, my darling girl"and I melted.
All the balled up fears of not being good enough and messing everything up and his deciding against keeping me all unclenched and rolled away with just that one sentence... just those four words.
Yes, I am a complete goof at times, and probably more prone to destroying good things with my frights than anything, but he is a good, good man, and he knows me already, and he knows how to diffuse my stupidbombs.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Miss Fix-It Fraks It All Up For You
I always want to make things "okay" for people. Fix the bad stuff, and make everything right again, so people can smile. And I hate when it isn't in my power to do that, because frak it, it should be something I can do. (At least that's how I feel, and it is frustrating when I can't.)
This morning at work, there was a couple in the breakfast area. She was in tears, and trying so hard to hold it together. He was in some camo outfit and obviously being deployed. She would stop, take deep breaths, or drink her coffee, or swallow hard, and she would seem to be fine for a bit... and then the tears would come again, and her grip on his hand would tighten, and there was nothing he could do but hold her hand and talk softly to her.
I just wanted to be able to wave a magic wand and make everything beautiful and safe for them, and I couldn't, of course.
Last night, an older man was pretty much abandoned at the hotel with no room, no credit card (it was in his friend's car), and no way home. The friend had told him to use the room at the hotel, but the key card didn't work. (Later it was discovered the "friend" was actually in the room with a woman, and had been all night.) Phone calls to the "friend" were first answered by promises that he was on his way... and later by just empty ringing. The poor man was simply beside himself, completely exhausted, and had nowhere to turn. I didn't know what else to do for him but to let him stay in the lobby until the thunderstorm stopped, so he could walk across the interstate to the truck stop and see if anyone there could give him a ride. I hated that there was nothing I could do.
I've now learned that this need to fix things and make everything better can't be applied to Master. In attempting to offer this a few days ago, I think I really offended him. I didn't mean to, and I think he knows I didn't, but I did anyway. When I tried to explain part of it, I think I deepened the offense. He hasn't said much about it, and I don't want to bring it up again after publishing this entry.
Now I feel farther away from him, and like there is this filthy cesspool inside my chest because I did something so amazingly, stupidly wrong and now, in trying to "fix" something, I broke something else even more, and now I can't fix that, either. Apparently I am not supposed to be the one fixing things, but I've felt it's been required of me for so many years, whether with someone or alone, that it is hard to let go. It's a knee-jerk reaction to circumstances, and I have to unlearn that, and fast.
And I guess I am terrified I won't be able to fast enough to do any good, and I won't be as much of what he wanted. I don't want him disappointed in me, or disgusted with me, or in any way unhappy. But if I can't manage to fix my fixing, he will be.
I don't know... this is just such a rambling post right now.
At least the weather isn't so horribly hot today.
***EDIT***
And yes, the thing in the breakfast room really got to me this morning. When they left, she followed him out the doors, carrying one of his bags over her shoulder, a determined look on her face. I couldn't do that, I don't think.
This morning at work, there was a couple in the breakfast area. She was in tears, and trying so hard to hold it together. He was in some camo outfit and obviously being deployed. She would stop, take deep breaths, or drink her coffee, or swallow hard, and she would seem to be fine for a bit... and then the tears would come again, and her grip on his hand would tighten, and there was nothing he could do but hold her hand and talk softly to her.
I just wanted to be able to wave a magic wand and make everything beautiful and safe for them, and I couldn't, of course.
Last night, an older man was pretty much abandoned at the hotel with no room, no credit card (it was in his friend's car), and no way home. The friend had told him to use the room at the hotel, but the key card didn't work. (Later it was discovered the "friend" was actually in the room with a woman, and had been all night.) Phone calls to the "friend" were first answered by promises that he was on his way... and later by just empty ringing. The poor man was simply beside himself, completely exhausted, and had nowhere to turn. I didn't know what else to do for him but to let him stay in the lobby until the thunderstorm stopped, so he could walk across the interstate to the truck stop and see if anyone there could give him a ride. I hated that there was nothing I could do.
I've now learned that this need to fix things and make everything better can't be applied to Master. In attempting to offer this a few days ago, I think I really offended him. I didn't mean to, and I think he knows I didn't, but I did anyway. When I tried to explain part of it, I think I deepened the offense. He hasn't said much about it, and I don't want to bring it up again after publishing this entry.
Now I feel farther away from him, and like there is this filthy cesspool inside my chest because I did something so amazingly, stupidly wrong and now, in trying to "fix" something, I broke something else even more, and now I can't fix that, either. Apparently I am not supposed to be the one fixing things, but I've felt it's been required of me for so many years, whether with someone or alone, that it is hard to let go. It's a knee-jerk reaction to circumstances, and I have to unlearn that, and fast.
And I guess I am terrified I won't be able to fast enough to do any good, and I won't be as much of what he wanted. I don't want him disappointed in me, or disgusted with me, or in any way unhappy. But if I can't manage to fix my fixing, he will be.
I don't know... this is just such a rambling post right now.
At least the weather isn't so horribly hot today.
***EDIT***
And yes, the thing in the breakfast room really got to me this morning. When they left, she followed him out the doors, carrying one of his bags over her shoulder, a determined look on her face. I couldn't do that, I don't think.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Choking On Air
Nope, not the fun, wonderful, bone-shivering type of choking, when my brain stops my breath simply because my throat feels the brush of his hand against it.
This is a mixture of the still-new weight of the collar around my neck and the weight of the summer air outside. Have you ever had something pressing just under the cartilage of your throat, and just above the dip in your collarbone? That is what it feels like... an invisible, insubstantial something pressing against that part, tensing muscles and making it so very hard to breathe. (I get enough oxygen, yes... it just feels as though I am being choked.
It happens outdoors, mainly. My apartment, thanks to Aimee's air conditioner, is much, much better now, and the cool air somehow helps keep the humidity in here at bay. Or maybe I just don't really notice it as much. I can step inside, and leave the pressing hand on the other side of my threshold. Usually.
Sometimes it hangs on, and is carried inside as well, still choking me, but not as intensely. When this happens, usually a puff on the inhaler (never far away here, though rarely used in California) is sufficient to make it break away and leave me in peace. Apparently, there will be the odd unfortunate time or two when even that won't be enough, and my brain will keep insisting to my muscles that I am being choked, and I need help nowww!!! That is what just happened, and the inspiration for this posting.
I know I am supposed to keep the collar on and locked unless I have permission to remove it, or in an emergency, of course. (Master ain't stupid, and neither am I!) I have extra keys; one remains in the purse at all times. This time, however, the inhaler wasn't doing enough, and my brain was in panic-overriding mode. After realizing this was what was happening, I grabbed the key from the purse, which is right next to me, and undid the screw, swinging it open enough to make my brain understand it needs to take a dose of Valium and calm down.
It worked. About thirty seconds later I could breathe normally, with only a few little catches still persisting. I locked the collar again, and put the key away. It never left my neck, and I didn't want it to. I didn't do anything but sit in my chair, calming my mind and breathing... gratefully breathing!
Should I have texted Master before loosening the lock and swinging the collar open, even the little bit I did? Yes, probably. I think that now, but at the time all I wanted was to get my throat to relax. If I was wrong, I was wrong. I will do things differently in the future.
But that huge sigh I just had sure felt good.
This is a mixture of the still-new weight of the collar around my neck and the weight of the summer air outside. Have you ever had something pressing just under the cartilage of your throat, and just above the dip in your collarbone? That is what it feels like... an invisible, insubstantial something pressing against that part, tensing muscles and making it so very hard to breathe. (I get enough oxygen, yes... it just feels as though I am being choked.
It happens outdoors, mainly. My apartment, thanks to Aimee's air conditioner, is much, much better now, and the cool air somehow helps keep the humidity in here at bay. Or maybe I just don't really notice it as much. I can step inside, and leave the pressing hand on the other side of my threshold. Usually.
Sometimes it hangs on, and is carried inside as well, still choking me, but not as intensely. When this happens, usually a puff on the inhaler (never far away here, though rarely used in California) is sufficient to make it break away and leave me in peace. Apparently, there will be the odd unfortunate time or two when even that won't be enough, and my brain will keep insisting to my muscles that I am being choked, and I need help nowww!!! That is what just happened, and the inspiration for this posting.
I know I am supposed to keep the collar on and locked unless I have permission to remove it, or in an emergency, of course. (Master ain't stupid, and neither am I!) I have extra keys; one remains in the purse at all times. This time, however, the inhaler wasn't doing enough, and my brain was in panic-overriding mode. After realizing this was what was happening, I grabbed the key from the purse, which is right next to me, and undid the screw, swinging it open enough to make my brain understand it needs to take a dose of Valium and calm down.
It worked. About thirty seconds later I could breathe normally, with only a few little catches still persisting. I locked the collar again, and put the key away. It never left my neck, and I didn't want it to. I didn't do anything but sit in my chair, calming my mind and breathing... gratefully breathing!
Should I have texted Master before loosening the lock and swinging the collar open, even the little bit I did? Yes, probably. I think that now, but at the time all I wanted was to get my throat to relax. If I was wrong, I was wrong. I will do things differently in the future.
But that huge sigh I just had sure felt good.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The Problem With Getting Healthy
I've wanted to lose weight and get healthier for a long time. Of course now I have a much more tangible reason than I had before, and that is good. I've been cutting out the fast food, eating more fruits, veggies, nuts and all, and finding myself with more energy. Not that I am about to power a small city with it yet -- I doubt I could power a bicycle up a steep hill right now! But this energy has me awake right now and wanting to do things, like clean the house and go run around and do errands.
Problem? Master is one time zone later than I. He is also farther north. That means that for him, the sun has set, he is heading to bed, he will want to go to sleep within a couple hours. but for me? The sun is still out, and will be for just under an hour. The birds are still chirping, and I have dishes to do, a late dinner to make for myself, and sort of wondering if there's anyplace to go shoot pool on a Tuesday night.
Instead, I am going in to take a cool bath, and then go into bed to kick up Skype and talk with Master. Now, before anyone thinks I am complaining about that, I am not. My body is a bit too bouncy right now, still wanting to go out and play... but I am not complaining about spending time with him.
I just wish there was an energy saver button somewhere on me, so I could kick it into lower gear for just a bit this evening.
Problem? Master is one time zone later than I. He is also farther north. That means that for him, the sun has set, he is heading to bed, he will want to go to sleep within a couple hours. but for me? The sun is still out, and will be for just under an hour. The birds are still chirping, and I have dishes to do, a late dinner to make for myself, and sort of wondering if there's anyplace to go shoot pool on a Tuesday night.
Instead, I am going in to take a cool bath, and then go into bed to kick up Skype and talk with Master. Now, before anyone thinks I am complaining about that, I am not. My body is a bit too bouncy right now, still wanting to go out and play... but I am not complaining about spending time with him.
I just wish there was an energy saver button somewhere on me, so I could kick it into lower gear for just a bit this evening.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
This Weight Around My Neck
On Thursday afternoon, the second collar arrived. The second, because the first was really too tight to wear safely or comfortably (though I hope to lose enough weight in a healthy manner so that it fits perfectly!), and this one is a bit larger. Master has me in a Turian-style collar right now, one that is a tube of metal encircling the neck, hinged on one side and screw-locked on the other, resting on the collarbone.
I wore it all day yesterday until I had to go to work. Wore it on the way to work, took it off and placed it in the purse he gave me for my shift, then replaced it around my neck as soon as I got back in the car. That I did because he wanted me to. I slept in it last night, taking it off on my own only when I bathed (and that was in part because the weight was beginning to give me a bit of a headache), and kept it on all day and night until I had to come to work at 11:00pm.
11:50pm, and I had this urge to put it on again. Not horrible, and not overwhelming, but strong enough to just want to go to the purse and take the stainless steel hoop and swing it closed around my neck, screwing the tiny screw into its hole to lock the hinge shut. I smiled as I felt the weight rest on my neck and collarbone, and went to help more guests.
Over an hour later I write this, and I am found smiling. It's that little, secret-type content smile women sometimes have, the one that's so difficult to explain... but when you see it, you understand completely.
This collar is comforting, warm with love, solid with reality. For now there is no leash, but someday soon I will hear the soft clinking of small chains cascading between my neck and his fingers. I can hardly wait, but I can wait, as well. I am just grateful to be his.
(and no, not said because he reads this! *laffs*)
I wore it all day yesterday until I had to go to work. Wore it on the way to work, took it off and placed it in the purse he gave me for my shift, then replaced it around my neck as soon as I got back in the car. That I did because he wanted me to. I slept in it last night, taking it off on my own only when I bathed (and that was in part because the weight was beginning to give me a bit of a headache), and kept it on all day and night until I had to come to work at 11:00pm.
11:50pm, and I had this urge to put it on again. Not horrible, and not overwhelming, but strong enough to just want to go to the purse and take the stainless steel hoop and swing it closed around my neck, screwing the tiny screw into its hole to lock the hinge shut. I smiled as I felt the weight rest on my neck and collarbone, and went to help more guests.
Over an hour later I write this, and I am found smiling. It's that little, secret-type content smile women sometimes have, the one that's so difficult to explain... but when you see it, you understand completely.
This collar is comforting, warm with love, solid with reality. For now there is no leash, but someday soon I will hear the soft clinking of small chains cascading between my neck and his fingers. I can hardly wait, but I can wait, as well. I am just grateful to be his.
(and no, not said because he reads this! *laffs*)
Monday, July 5, 2010
Crankies
I was no fun to be around yesterday. The day before wasn't the speefiest, either, lemme tell ya. One of the good things about having known Master for so many years as a friend is that I feel entirely comfortable railing at him and letting him know how I feel (GRRR!) Of course, one of the bad things is that very same thing, too. He sure doesn't deserve me in my cranky, grumpy state.
Finally last night, he sent me to bed. He knew what I sort of knew (but didn't want to admit, really) - I needed sleep, and not just a couple hours and then back up to work or do homework or go help the parents. I needed a good night's sleep. this morning he said he never wants to see that again... and I assured him he most likely will.
I will get tired, and then I will get more tired. I will keep pushing myself and not allowing myself to really sleep. A little nap now and then, but that's it. Then come the crankies on top of the crankies, as I try and try to forge ahead and get the things done I need to do. Of course I can't, or barely can, because I am too tired to concentrate. This makes me more frustrated and crankier, and it is just a horrid, never-ending circle until real sleep breaks it open. Oh, yes, I know it's bad for me. Bad for my mental and my physical health. I still do it.
This time, it was work and work and lots of homework, and parents calling and wanting me to come over at the last minute to clean up the house, even though I still had a ton of homework and had to work two graveyard shift so needed to sleep at some point. I didn't get much sleep at all - like only a few hours for the weekend - and felt badly pressured for the homework and the house cleaning... and this isn't even mentioning my own housekeeping needs. I am very well aware that it comes off as being extremely selfish, and I really hate that. Hells, I was going to go over to the parents' house early this morning, but sudden inspiration struck and I knew I needed to harness it for my homework or lose it forever. I have called them and told them I will be there early tomorrow morning. Apparently they will have things for me to go pick up tomorrow at noon, and again tomorrow evening. That's fine. I just need to make sure my homework and all is done.
Please notice this also leaves no real time for my Master. Not a good thing at all.
And now I am going to shower and get ready for work again. Wednesday I believe I have a dinner "date" with a girlfriend of mine. other than that, we'll see.
Finally last night, he sent me to bed. He knew what I sort of knew (but didn't want to admit, really) - I needed sleep, and not just a couple hours and then back up to work or do homework or go help the parents. I needed a good night's sleep. this morning he said he never wants to see that again... and I assured him he most likely will.
I will get tired, and then I will get more tired. I will keep pushing myself and not allowing myself to really sleep. A little nap now and then, but that's it. Then come the crankies on top of the crankies, as I try and try to forge ahead and get the things done I need to do. Of course I can't, or barely can, because I am too tired to concentrate. This makes me more frustrated and crankier, and it is just a horrid, never-ending circle until real sleep breaks it open. Oh, yes, I know it's bad for me. Bad for my mental and my physical health. I still do it.
This time, it was work and work and lots of homework, and parents calling and wanting me to come over at the last minute to clean up the house, even though I still had a ton of homework and had to work two graveyard shift so needed to sleep at some point. I didn't get much sleep at all - like only a few hours for the weekend - and felt badly pressured for the homework and the house cleaning... and this isn't even mentioning my own housekeeping needs. I am very well aware that it comes off as being extremely selfish, and I really hate that. Hells, I was going to go over to the parents' house early this morning, but sudden inspiration struck and I knew I needed to harness it for my homework or lose it forever. I have called them and told them I will be there early tomorrow morning. Apparently they will have things for me to go pick up tomorrow at noon, and again tomorrow evening. That's fine. I just need to make sure my homework and all is done.
Please notice this also leaves no real time for my Master. Not a good thing at all.
And now I am going to shower and get ready for work again. Wednesday I believe I have a dinner "date" with a girlfriend of mine. other than that, we'll see.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Just Things
Silly me. I blog yesterday about cutting back on the cigarettes, and what does Master do? Of course... he forbids me cigarettes for three days. (Meaning tomorrow around 10am I can beg him permission to smoke another one. Do I really think he will give permission? Probably not. As he reminded me when I teased him about that, it's his choice whether he does or not.)
Right now, I have written and erased a few different things for this second paragraph. He added a new blog entry to my task list for today, but I don't really seem to have anything to write about at this point. I feel a little burned out, I guess. Not with the relationship or anything like that, no! Just with all the running around and knowing I have two chapters of work due for class this week, working, cleaning the apartment, trying to take better care of myself... all of that. Right now, I really would love to go back into the bedroom and sleep for three... four... five hours or so. I would love to not have to go in to work late tonight, then stay there all night until after the dawn.
Hells, I would love to be with him right now, getting him coffee or tea or ice water. Fixing his dinner. Washing his clothes for the holiday weekend. Anything! Just so long as it centered around him. So long as it was something that would make him happy, or at least make his life a bit easier.
This entry gets to be cut short, though, as he is sending me to bed for a nap right now.
Right now, I have written and erased a few different things for this second paragraph. He added a new blog entry to my task list for today, but I don't really seem to have anything to write about at this point. I feel a little burned out, I guess. Not with the relationship or anything like that, no! Just with all the running around and knowing I have two chapters of work due for class this week, working, cleaning the apartment, trying to take better care of myself... all of that. Right now, I really would love to go back into the bedroom and sleep for three... four... five hours or so. I would love to not have to go in to work late tonight, then stay there all night until after the dawn.
Hells, I would love to be with him right now, getting him coffee or tea or ice water. Fixing his dinner. Washing his clothes for the holiday weekend. Anything! Just so long as it centered around him. So long as it was something that would make him happy, or at least make his life a bit easier.
This entry gets to be cut short, though, as he is sending me to bed for a nap right now.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Struggles
Right now, I want a cigarette. I have eaten too much Chinese food, but keep wanting to eat more because I don't have a cigarette. A cigarette is like the period at the end of a sentence: it tells you when to stop reading... or in this case, when to stop eating.
I went out this morning and walked for thirty minutes. I am completely ashamed of that - when I lived in California, I walked nearly every day, simply because it was a good mode of transportation. The weather was almost always fine, the shops and restaurants and grocer's and post office were all within walking distance, and there were always tons of things to take photos of. I stopped walking very much after I moved here in January. No winter clothes (hell, no autumn clothes, either!) helped see to that in the snow and ice storms that were occurring here. The public transportation here is practically nil, so it was a bit rare for me to go explore somewhere on one of the better-weather days. As a result, my first two months here saw me gain 23 pounds. I was already fighting my weight to begin with, and the past year of unemployment really saw a surge on the scale.
A few months ago, I started smoking cigarettes again. It really did help me lose some weight, and I got back down to 210 as of two weeks ago. But their effectiveness has been wearing off a bit, or I have just become more nervous again and anxiety-filled, and the weight has most likely shot up recently. (I don't know, as I don't have the balls to step on a scale right now.)
A huge part of the reason I remained so sedentary even after the weather warmed up was that my air conditioning didn't work in the apartment. I now have a window unit, and it works well. So why am I still acting like a slug?
Maybe it's because when I do try to do things, I am even more aware of how little I can do anymore. I know I have to keep trying and working at it to get back to how I was, but it's... I don't know.
And maybe it's the last ditch effort of my subconscious or something, trying to insulate me from any potential heartbreak, even though I honestly don't see heartbreak happening this time. Something inside me that really doesn't believe I deserve the man I seem to have wound up with. After all, look at the parade of mis-matches and losers in the past? So maybe if I remain all hideous-looking, I can make sure he really doesn't want me and...
Pfft. And that is the lack of nicotine talking, really. I know better. And if he wants me to change after we meet, then he will definitely tell me. Hells, at least I won't smell like an old man bar near the end of winter! That is, if I can keep myself from smoking.
I went out this morning and walked for thirty minutes. I am completely ashamed of that - when I lived in California, I walked nearly every day, simply because it was a good mode of transportation. The weather was almost always fine, the shops and restaurants and grocer's and post office were all within walking distance, and there were always tons of things to take photos of. I stopped walking very much after I moved here in January. No winter clothes (hell, no autumn clothes, either!) helped see to that in the snow and ice storms that were occurring here. The public transportation here is practically nil, so it was a bit rare for me to go explore somewhere on one of the better-weather days. As a result, my first two months here saw me gain 23 pounds. I was already fighting my weight to begin with, and the past year of unemployment really saw a surge on the scale.
A few months ago, I started smoking cigarettes again. It really did help me lose some weight, and I got back down to 210 as of two weeks ago. But their effectiveness has been wearing off a bit, or I have just become more nervous again and anxiety-filled, and the weight has most likely shot up recently. (I don't know, as I don't have the balls to step on a scale right now.)
A huge part of the reason I remained so sedentary even after the weather warmed up was that my air conditioning didn't work in the apartment. I now have a window unit, and it works well. So why am I still acting like a slug?
Maybe it's because when I do try to do things, I am even more aware of how little I can do anymore. I know I have to keep trying and working at it to get back to how I was, but it's... I don't know.
And maybe it's the last ditch effort of my subconscious or something, trying to insulate me from any potential heartbreak, even though I honestly don't see heartbreak happening this time. Something inside me that really doesn't believe I deserve the man I seem to have wound up with. After all, look at the parade of mis-matches and losers in the past? So maybe if I remain all hideous-looking, I can make sure he really doesn't want me and...
Pfft. And that is the lack of nicotine talking, really. I know better. And if he wants me to change after we meet, then he will definitely tell me. Hells, at least I won't smell like an old man bar near the end of winter! That is, if I can keep myself from smoking.
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