The day I realised the power of embracing my submissive nature still stands out in my memory. The great strides I’ve made in becoming authentic in my life as a whole is one of the great joys in my life. I like that I like myself and feel comfortable in my skin.
This week, however, was a challenge. But first some context:
my HBM and I have had a really challenging time since early December; not in our commitment and love, but in finding time alone. Holidays are never easy but this time it is feeling way longer than ever before. Being with family really shook me in ways I am still processing. Perhaps the aspect I still carry the heaviest on, is knowing that they simply aren’t interested in knowing or understanding my choices. I always think that people accept things when they understand them. But I realised they aren’t going to be willing to make an effort any time soon. I am working on accepting that.
Adding to that internal processing, I had to undertake a business trip to an area I haven’t been before. Easy right?
I need to add here that my mom suffers from OCD and more than a touch of Agoraphobia. I knew I had one or two issues, but this trip highlighted the extent of my own anxieties. Something as seemingly simple as appearing at the correct gate at the airport had me double checking the boards and boarding pass not once or twice or even six or seven times.
Working out the time to arrive at said gate was even worse and although being absolutely sure of the time, it was all I could think if, working out the times over and over and over again. By the time I arrived in the new city I was emotionally exhausted. This has been my past two days and in a while I will find my way back to the airport.
Add that level of anxiety to what I am feeling as the loosening of His control as a natural outflow of the lack of time together and the after-effects of the holiday-family-realisations. I am feeling quite anchorless, as if the peace and acceptance and liking myself that I had before is stuck behind a clear glass wall and I’m unable to access it.
It worries me that my method of trying to find some solid ground is needing pain and the desire to cut is the strongest it’s been in years. I haven’t but I am constantly aware of its siren call.
An untangled ramble. Writing it helped somewhat to untangle it. Soon it will be ok. I know this. I can see I have some work to do before I get back on sure footing. But I will.