People-ing is hard work for me. People can steal my energy and, quite often with it, my desire to express myself creatively.
It took me approximately 36 years to learn this about myself and another 4 or 5 years to find and implement strategies to protect myself against the ill-effects of being drained by people. Mostly I am able to manage the amount and type of social interaction required in a week and I sometimes I simply forget that I am managing it, it feels so natural.
But currently I am finding the managing part extra difficult. Not because it’s the end of the year ( I already have good strategies in place for that) but because of work.
I’m currently busy with a new project. It is taking a lot from me. A lot of thinking, planning and work. But more … a lot of creative thinking, planning and work. I love it! I feel as if the synapses in my brain are working at top speed and l, although challenged and at times downright frustrated, am finding myself totally engrossed and engaged.
However, now I am finding my social capacity to be even smaller. Online friends and acquaintances are asking me where I am, what is wrong. I feel guilty for not feeling a need or even a capacity for social interaction. I am feeling as if I am letting so many people down. These are people I have allowed closer to me and therefore feel a sense of kinship for and responsibility towards.
I’m not neglecting my HBM, however, because of my work, I am feeling tired and have become a little sick. This is having a negative effect on the amount of time we spend together. But He is aware of it, and knows to manage it. And He is the one I take direction from.
How do I express all of this to friends? Should I even? I feel guilty towards my friend, but at the same loving the positives.
As always, people-ing is the hardest part of adulting for me.
…supporting His league rugby team because He feels strongly about unified support even though I felt strongly that they were going to lose.
And, then when He hears that our (opposing) international teams drew, I never ever teased Him about it even once.
All because He was working through two disappointments for the weekend and I didn’t want Him to be more upset 😜
Ash, true love, indeed.
…when He tells me to kneel so He can remind me that I am His.
Not by accident.
Not by a stroke of sheer luck.
But by choice.
One He made and keeps making day after day.
Today, my HBM commented teasingly that He sees a sadistic streak in me. I laughed it off and then, more seriously, commented that I can’t actually deny this.
Then, on further contemplation, I realised that, as with many things kink-related, the matter is multidimensional. You see, I don’t get sexual gratification from the act of inflicting pain on someone. And I know this to be true because of numerous experiences with The Switch play partner of a couple of years ago. I knew how to do e.g. CBT but experienced no arousal because of the infliction of it.
However, I do experience arousal.
See, the arousal comes from the anticipation of the pain and pleasure the masochist is experiencing because of the pain. THAT is what makes me squirm and wriggle… imagining the delicious pain the person is expereincing, not the power trip of inflicting said pain.
I am often amazed at the nuances hidden inside things so many people lump together as simply ‘kink’.
…when His loving hurts in exactly the right spot, the right way, the right duration.
Knowing He loves me enough to trust me with this sadist part of Himself.
‘I love you’
‘I miss you’
I need you’.
Love often is, at it’s most basic, the simple things in life.
…the special name He made just for me. A name He calls me when He is happy and content and happy to see me.
And sometimes when the need rises very high. Then He uses it too.
It’s only ours in the whole wide world.
…when He keeps watch over me when I sleep because I am sick and sore.
…holding me when I cry. Not because He thinks I’m weak, but because He knows I need His strength while I gather mine.
Last night I had a dream real enough to smell and hear and shake in fear.
I needed His arms around me and His voice gravelly in my ear.
I stretched out to find He wasn’t there.
I needed His arms and strength and assurances that He would keep me safe. He wasn’t there.
He wanted to be.
He needed to be.
If He could, He would have been there – this I’ve never doubted.
Today I am still carrying the residue around me like a heavy, unseen cloak, visible only to my own inner eyes. The details of the dream are sketchy and the reason for the fear has passed.
Tears sits close, too close.
Today the distance hurts. Usually it is inconvenient; often frustrating. But this hurts. Not only me, Him too.
I have no pretty bow to tie it up and pack it away. Any other day I could reframe it and focus on all the positives we bring to each other. But today it is cumbersome.
And yet… I wouldn’t exchange my HBM or us for anything. Not even today.