It’s like there’s a sucking wound in the middle of my chest, where I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop and bleed out before I can stop it. Fairytales only happen in books and movies, so the happiness I have sometimes can’t always be real. I wake up in a wild panic, I check my iPad to see if we’re still connected through Skype, then I quickly check the news, already trying to prepare myself for the very worst. My imagination is exploding, sending me into yet another spiral of doubt. Am I awake? Will it be even worse if I wake up?
Doubt is a funny thing. I have moments of “I can do this and everything is going to work out! They aren’t going anywhere.” then in the next instant, all that crashes around me and the hole in my chest gets a little bit bigger and the doubt eats at me more. We’ve had some issues in our marriage before, you can find their earlier posts here that can explain all of that, but with doubt constantly trying to humour me, it’s hard to shake. Even years later.
As much as I would love to say how completely confident I am and tell you how I know that it’s worked out for the better, the wound in my chest will always be there for me, burning and churning threatening to devour whats left of my happiness. I’ve rarely known what happiness was or that I could achieve anything other than be a special kind of burden until I eventually either took my own life, or died.
I have always been into kink and the idea of owning someone has always been something I wanted, even if my past relationships were nothing similar to how I own someone now. It wasn’t until my slave, this special slave, came crashing their way into my life so many years ago. We haven’t had the perfect marriage, we haven’t had the perfect TPE relationship, and we still have so much to learn. A lifetime to learn. I yearn to explore everything about who they are, I want to achieve subspace with them, but each time we really play I keep hoping that I’ll be the one that gets them to subspace, just another thing on my list of things that make my doubt myself.
Am I not what he needs as a dominant if I can’t even get him to subspace after all this time?
If I had a penny for every time I have thought they would be so much better with someone else I’d be so rich right now. I needed this out of my head and this part of my life I cannot share anywhere else. I have other parts of social media that is all mental health and weight loss, but I cannot truly talk about my relationship the way I need too anywhere else but here. I digress as usual, something my slave and I share commonality with, always struggling to get to the point… It’s just hard to write about how I cannot shake the feeling that although they have tried their best to reassure me that I’m the one, that they will never leave myside… I wonder secretly if its only because they cares for me so much, that they would forsake their own happiness to keep me happy.
I don’t want that, all I’ve ever wanted was for them to have the best in life even if it had to be without me. I feel I owe them so much already, and if being without them would destroy me, I would gladly step back if it meant they could get everything I feel they deserves for once.
This sounds so fucked up written down, but this is what the record plays in my brain. I smile, laugh, tell some jokes… I’m breaking on the inside, but the show must go… the show must go… the show must go on.
I’m not much for giving up, I have survived 100% of my worst days so far, I suppose a few more won’t kill me either, but I sit here tonight hoping that this wound will someday go away, trying to take deep breathes, trying to stay calm, but I will end up taking something for my anxiety when I give up on my pride and relent.
I’ve realized that I am a mental sadist and physical a masochist. I will push my body until I simply can’t do anymore. Working out until I hurt is the only pain that distracts me from the other things that are there.
I’m not having a good mental week, lots of shitty nightmares about my pretty baby so far away.
I’ll be there soon.