The Secret Place

So… things have been happening in my other life where I don’t talk about… this life (it’s so much fun having multiple lives!) I may have some people poking over and reading this site and, that is a really terrifying thought. When first it struck me that I might get a bump in traffic to this site, I was mortified at the thought of people reading my old stories (the ones up there in the black menu bar…)  I wanted to take them down, and I contemplated it seriously for a while.  I considered just unlinking their pages so they couldn’t be seen until the traffic died down (if any…

I’ve been reading some older posts that I don’t completely remember writing… like my brain has lost it’s corollary effect and no longer intrinsically recognizes the writing as my own, even though I understand on an intellectual level that it is my writing. My quite old writing, I hate no matter how much time has passed.  It was just poor writing and it’s hard for me to be forgiving of my beginner self. But my few months old writing I can almost forget was mine, almost read with fresh eyes, and almost appreciate. Which… is good… because I am consistently struck by confusion over why anyone would want to read…

I’m having anxiety. Probably because I ate a bunch of eggs the last three days. I’m allergic to eggs.  Though, technically, not…  because I don’t have an IgE reaction to them.  I don’t have an IgA reaction, either, I don’t think… at least the last test didn’t show one. Despite modern science, however, my body reacts to eggs by making me ragingly suicidal with a shit ton of anxiety. I didn’t eat the eggs on purpose… at least initially.  I bought these almonds, which are by a company that doesn’t use gluten or dairy, so I figured I was safe.  They’re almonds! And… my brain hasn’t been fully online for…

Ugh! I was diagnosed with pernicious anemia a couple of weeks ago (on top of iron-deficient anemia).  That means that my body makes antibodies to the cells that line my stomach.  The cells which produce stomach acid and intrinsic factor.  Intrinsic factor is a protein which binds to B12 (the vitamin) and allows it to be absorbed into the body’s tissues.  Without it, B12 just floats happily through your digestive tract and right back out of your body. Solution?  B12 shots for the rest of my life.  Excellent. Since my autoimmune doctor is an hour drive away, I do the shots myself at home. I’ve done a lot of shots…

There is an aspect of submission called “service.”  Not all submissives are oriented to service.  Not all dominants are oriented to service.  Individual people might be more or less oriented toward service.  And it can be a person’s entire orientation, or only one of several or many orientations as a submissive/dominant. Sub Brother is pretty highly service oriented.  I’m moderately service oriented.  T, Sir’s former partner, was not at all service oriented most of the time, but it would come up for him under specific circumstances, and he was more interested in service to me than he was to Sir. Sir can take or leave service.  He does service with…

Well… Not that I’m on the outside or anything, but I’ve at least crawled high enough up the side of my hole to have some perspective on its depth… That’s a fucking deep hole! This summer has been… probably the worst of my life since I was a kid.  And, in some ways, it triggered a grief for the child I was, because, I realized that this summer was actually ostensibly less awful than what I was going through as a child… alone… I went through medical hell that triggered a lot of PTSD.  But I had people to tell about it.  I didn’t have to keep it secret.  I…

I had therapy today.  I’m supposed to increase my PTSD med.  Apparently I’m not doing well. But, I was supposed to increase it on my own a week ago.  I was supposed to increase it by 1 mg every week for four weeks unless I felt I was doing fine at a certain dosage, then I could elect to hold at that dosage level. I thought I was doing fine at 1 mg.  I haven’t had nightmares, I haven’t had flashbacks, particularly, here and there, but nothing like after the biopsy.  So… that’s what the PTSD drug is supposed to do… eliminate nightmares and flashbacks.  So I didn’t increase it.…

So… best laid plans and all that.  Yesterday was a shit show.  Clearly I didn’t post.  I had a family thing for half the day, and the other half the day I basically went into full eating disorder mode (Sir wouldn’t let me look up medical procedures on the internet, so… where’s my anxiety going to go??  FOOD!) I also had an anxiety attack and two panic attacks (yeah, they’re different… another post, another day.) I fell into bed last night feeling completely miserable and cried on Sir’s chest for about twenty minutes.  He thinks there was also some hormone crap going on, because, I was seriously, just weepy.  And…