Conflict

Sir and I have been having arguments.  Which… sucks.  We don’t usually have arguments.  Or they are at least very one-sided if we do.  I argue.  He says no.  I argue.  He gets all dominant and makes my life miserable and I give up on arguing…  eventually.  He rarely argues BACK.

But we’ve been having some arguments the last couple of days and…  I’ve been thinking about why that is happening and I think that our D/s relationship isn’t as solid in this arena and I think that Sir is struggling and… probably I’m not sure where I want it to be either, with knowing where our relationship is defined and how it is defined in this area.  And that means that instead of the way our relationship normally works when there is a conflict… we’re having… arguments.  And I don’t like that.  And it’s making me feel frustrated and sad.  And… I… I feel unsure about the answers, which I also don’t like.

So, while I was away for three weeks, I lost 8 pounds.  I didn’t know this until I came home, I didn’t have any way of weighing myself while I was on my trip.  But I lost 8 pounds and the thing is… I WAS eating.  I ate three meals EVERY day.  I have sworn this up and down to Sir.  But I don’t think he completely believes me because it has come up more than once, and if he believed me he’d have asked once and I’d have answered and that would have been it, but… I don’t think he believes me because that’s not how it has gone.

And I know, 8 pounds in three weeks is a lot.  And I know my weight loss started out fast but it had slowed down to about 1 pound a week before I left… and 8 pounds in 3 weeks is almost 3 pounds a week, which is bordering on unhealthy fast weight loss.  But I DIDN’T TRY TO DO IT!  It wasn’t on purpose.  I swear to God.

My food choices were kind of limited, but… I still fucking ate!  Every day!  And I really, hand to God, tried to get calories.  Of course, I couldn’t really track everything, but I seriously did try.  I had packets of coconut oil with me and I would dump them into my tea at breakfast if I didn’t have as much food available.  But I totally still ate!  I ate bacon so often I’m actually sick of bacon (I don’t know how that could even happen, but it did…)  I have eaten more freaking cucumbers than I ever want to think about again…  I ate olives and a Kind Bar (nut bar) and some macadamia nuts or beef jerky at every lunch…  We got salad stuff and lunch meat for dinners, or we cooked meat and veggies.

I mean… I ate.

And I drank coconut oil.

But I was walking about 4 or 5 hours a day… and…  that’s just… that was how it was.  That’s just what happened and… I didn’t actually think I was losing any weight at all.

My belt that I took on the trip got looser (a nylon woven belt) but I was just thinking it had stretched a little.  I TOLD Sir that my belt was getting looser, while I was on the trip, I wasn’t trying to hide anything.

And… really, my eating disorder wasn’t much of a problem for me on this trip.  I had too much else to pay attention to, and I didn’t have a scale or anything, and I just… I mostly thought I was gaining weight, and had some moments I thought my face was fat… but I wasn’t disordered eating and the exercise I got was incidental.

So I came home 8 pounds lighter.

Now… yeah… that set off my eating disorder and coming home has been a rough transition, but… I’m not…

I’m not… just… completely decompensating.

I’ve been walking a lot because I just want to maintain what I was doing in Europe, but… its only 2-3 miles a day, which I don’t think is totally unreasonable because… it’s just… not… and I’m not even running, because I am being careful with my foot injury and I feel like I’m being reasonable about exercise.

And I know my diet has been a little sketchy since I came back, but… not terrible.  I’ve been doing 3 meals a day.  Sometimes they’re small, but… I’m doing them and most of them are reasonable and… I’m not avoiding food.

I can feel my eating disorder without giving in to it.

But I don’t feel like Sir is… I feel like… I feel like it scared him to see what I lost in Europe and now he’s being unreasonable.  And…  I don’t even know what you want…  because you won’t even be Sir about this.  You just argue and you don’t even tell me what it is you expect me to do.  Give an order, or set a limit, or do whatever you need to do, because, I don’t know what you want right now.  And that’s making it really frustrating.  If you think I’m not eating enough then… fucking tell me what to eat!  I’m…

I feel like I’m doing the best I can and I’m making an effort and I’m struggling with the transition and this is really me trying and I feel like… I’m doing an okay job considering how difficult transitions are for me.  I really don’t see that I’m sandbagging, I really don’t see that I’m being subversive, but I feel like you keep treating me like I am and it’s really destructive for me.  And I feel like I keep letting you down, even though I’m trying my best to get all my shit together, so then I feel bad about myself, which makes everything worse.

And I think you’re worried about my health and I get that, and I… love you for that… and I understand… but… it’s not… coming out between us in a way that is… helping anything.  And…  I feel like you’re afraid to be dominant in my eating because you think it’s too sensitive an area… and… but… you’ve done it before, so I don’t know why you’re so hesitant right now.  And also, I don’t think you NEED to because I really did eat in Europe!  And I’m eating now.  And…

I don’t know.

I don’t know why we keep arguing.

I don’t know why there’s so much tension and things just keep going sideways with us, and I feel like… we’re not transitioning well.  And that makes me feel sad and hurt.  And I don’t know why it’s happening.

And I’m getting to the point I’m afraid to tell you all of this directly because I feel like we’ll get in another argument and I’ll get sidetracked and not even make my point I wanted to make in the first place.

Michael would have freaked out about me putting our problems in my blog.  He would have thought I’m airing our dirty laundry, and you know what?  I totally am.  This is probably inappropriate.

I don’t know.

Blogs are probably fundamentally inappropriate.  Why should I share anything about my life with the public?  Everything I post here is essentially dirty laundry, isn’t it?

Except you tell me to do it.

Maybe I depend too much on your dominance.  I make everything your decision and your responsibility and don’t take enough responsibility for myself… maybe that’s what’s wrong with us…  Maybe you’re tired of my shit.

I’m tired of my shit.

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