It’s getting late and I should really be going to bed…. I succumbed to some peer pressure and finally joined a popular social networking site. Along with a blog and 3 email addresses I didn’t really want another site to keep up with, however, I’ve already found a couple college friends that I had lost touch with, so that is wonderful.
We’ve got spanking going on in full swing here again. 🙂 All for fun and with the lovely side effect of stress relief and/or muscle tension relief. The past month the muscles in my shoulders have been knotted up so badly that it’s been very painful. Brad has tried to loosen them up a bit but the slightest pressure would hurt so bad that it would just make me cringe and tense up even more. Muscle relaxers were the only thing that would help. Anyway, after a 3 week spanking draught I finally got one and I was honestly very surprised at how much better my shoulders felt afterwards. During spanking I do tense up, but it wears me out so much that by the end I just flop down in heavenly exhaustion. Great feeling… I highly recommend it. So far, it’s keeping the shoulder problem manageable or better. Yay!
So you know that we are taking a break from dd for an undetermined amount of time. We actually haven’t talked much about it yet, but we are just going with the flow. There are so many raw nerves exposed that I don’t want to talk about it yet. I wasn’t sure how it would feel, all of sudden not having the threat of punishment spanking around… Would I not care about the rules anymore, would I use the freedom to have a bad attitude or say whatever I want? To be honest, as far as our relationship on a daily basis, how we are with each other, how I treat him, keeping up with the “rules” that were established, none of that has changed (except maybe communication is better at times). I’ve tried to keep things as normal as possible, to not act out, to be considerate. It does however feel a bit funny to me, I am not really sure why. There is something that I miss, I can’t quite put my finger on it. There is a lack of closeness that seemed to be there before, but I know that doesn’t have to do with the dd, or lack of. At least it didn’t start with that. I’m still fumbling around trying to trust myself, my instincts, my feelings, trying to sort through what is real and what’s not, what is true and what’s not, and it’s hard to be close to someone who is so heavily invested in your life when you are just trying to figure yourself out. I don’t know what we are going to do, whether we go back and try again or not. I am not even close to making that decision, but I suspect in time we will. It may be a while. We’ll see…
I keep writing posts, sort of, but nothing sounds right to me. I’ll think I have some thing and then I look it over and, uh… no, not putting that out there, for what ever reason. Maybe I am too picky. So I decided I would write about not publishing posts. Not really, that would be really boring. You’ll have to settle for my stream of consciousness.
So anyway, I am ok, Brad is ok, our “ok-ness” is what we can manage right now with parental responsibilities, work, pain management, basketball fever, and my own pain management of sorts. The way things have played out the past month or so have brought something up to the surface yet again for me. It’s the worst it’s ever been, I can’t say “something happened when I was…” to anyone without losing composure inside and out. And I’ve had to explain more than I would care to. I’m getting really angry that something that happened 17 years ago still has such an effect on me, and that is not for lack of trying in every seemingly possible way to deal with it. It scares me. It doesn’t even make sense to me anymore and it makes me so MAD. I have to believe that at some point I can turn and say “I accept it, I can’t change it, and I am moving on, goodbye”. Looking forward to that…
The UK game doesn’t start until 10pm tonight… so in case you’ve missed some of the action –
and some of the fun
In the midst of several terrifying moments as a teenager I specifically remember ordering myself to “check out”. I would say it to myself over and over until I could reasonably handle the moment. My heart would still be racing, my chest would still feel tight, the physical symptoms of fear, sadness, or anger were there, but at least I was not feeling. I knew that if I could feel what I should be feeling I might just lose it altogether. And then what…? The first time I “checked out” it worked wonderfully, I didn’t die or start screaming or cry uncontrollably. Instead I was able to walk through whatever it was with a blank face and a working composure. This became my favorite way of coping and after a while I didn’t have to talk myself through it, it just happened automatically. This type of coping was necessary at the time, but not without consequences. I am now seeing pieces of what that strategy has done to me.
I remember one lovely afternoon staring blankly at my homework while my dad was talking to me about something, I don’t even remember what it was. I do remember when all of sudden he stood and yelled “Damn it Ally! Why do you always have to be so hard!” and then he slammed my door on the way out. I let that in long enough to wonder “what do you mean by that and what do you want from me?”. And then it was gone from my thoughts, but not forgotten. I know now that he was frustrated because I was unresponsive. I couldn’t let what was on the inside come out because I was afraid of spinning out of control. At my parents house kids didn’t express anger or argue, and if there should be an argument then you just didn’t talk to each other until it blew over. There was no room in the house for my teenage angst.
In a marriage repressing feelings, people pleasing, and not discussing the hard stuff doesn’t work well for very long. I’d not thought about the “checking out” for a long time, I didn’t think that I was doing that anymore. Nonetheless, my “hardness” is doing me a disservice. I am not a blank face but I can’t express myself very well in emotionally charged situations. I don’t do conflict well. Emotions leak out without clarity. As circumstances have forced me to recognize it and I’ve spent the last week trying to just feel whatever there is to feel. Tried to not control it or self protect, but just let it wash over me, through me. It’s like standing in the ocean and having wave after wave break over top of me, pounding me over and over. It’s exhausting, painful, confusing, relentless, and sometimes a relief. I frequently catch myself shutting down again. It’s an effort. I already don’t feel like talking about it anymore. More later…