I’ve been having some trouble with my submission lately. It happens now and then I guess, but I never remember that the next time it happens and get stressed about it all over again. I feel disconnected from my submissive feelings. On Facebook there used to be heated arguments over the phrase “feel submissive” because someone would come along and ask “Do you always feel submissive or does it come and go?” and people would get all high and mighty and say, “I don’t FEEL submissive, I AM submissive…” And… sigh… people. I got what those first people were asking because there are two parts to this.  First, I AM…

I spent most of the evening curled up on Sir’s lap in the big armchair that we moved in yesterday from our old place…  sobbing… over Michael. And I’m so frustrated with myself and I’m so… hateful… to myself…  I’m angry that I haven’t spoken to this man in almost five years, and I can still spend two hours crying over him.  I’m so angry that… I’m so angry that I ever loved him.  I’m so angry that I ever let someone like him close enough to hurt me.  I’m so angry that I believed him when he said kind things to me.  I’m so angry that I believed him…

So, it’s four days into the school year and I’ve already decided it is going to be seriously harder to write every day when I’m working.  Dammit! August is a hard month, I’ve decided.  I think last year I thought it was just because I was in the middle of a new diagnosis, and a million meds, and tests, AND BUYING A HOUSE! But that didn’t happen this year, and August still sucks. I think it is the disruption of our routines. August is the anniversary of T’s death, so it throws both Sir and me for an emotional loop.  It is the transition back to work for both Sub…

Coming up with titles for posts is seriously more work than writing the damn post! In other news, I feel like shit, and I have body aches, which I usually only have with the flu or mold exposure.  I don’t have a fever.  The only place I have been was the museum this weekend. If the museum is moldy I’m just going to give up on life. To bed.

So… my sore throat became full on germ infestation.  I had a horrible asthma attack.  And went to the ER. Sigh. The ER gave me massive amounts of making-me-breathe medicine, which then made me have violent tremors in my whole body, so they had to give me massive amounts of other drugs to stop that from happening…  Seriously, this happens every time, and I tell them, and they say, “Well, you have to breathe…” How unreasonable. Now Sir is being a weird combination of strict and hovering. But I feel like shit, so I don’t really have enough energy to care. I’m going to bed, but I didn’t want to…