It’s another blue day of barely functioning. My planned self-therapy of D/s sex is not likely to happen as I’m having another period. It could stop tomorrow or it could go on for months like the one I had in August/September. I’ve finally got my iron levels back up to normal and now I’m bleeding yet again. The part of me that believes in the psyche’s control of the body thinks that I don’t really want to have sex tomorrow and that’s why I’m bleeding again. The horny woman part of me just really wants sex. The sad little girl in me just wants to be held.
I am considering going anyway and participating in whatever way I can. I keep thinking that the spanking might pull me out of this funk. And there is still above-the-waist play and the joy of serving a man. Not wanting to squick anyone, I’ll just say that C is not averse to more in-depth play during this time of the month. (I have a friend who says that’s why she has a few rust colored towels). It’s a shame that it’s a topic we don’t like to discuss. Many women are at their most libidinous during that time when testosterone levels hold sway.
Maybe I’ll just ask if we can get together and cuddle. It’s not an unreasonable thing to request. I did put on my 2013 vision board that I would do more asking for what I need this year. It wouldn’t make sense to get a hotel room just to spend time cuddling, though. I, of course, have a mom at home, and he has a roommate. Maybe the roommate wouldn’t mind. I think the mom probably would.
See, that is tremendously discouraging to me. I am 52 years old and living with my mother temporarily while I go to school. I’ve been dating men that are either married, have kids at home, or have roommates or a parent living in. I’m doing something very wrong here. It should not be unreasonable to find someone with a place of his own. I’m just not doing this right.
All the more reason to stay alone, at least for now. It does seem to be what I’m meant to be doing – getting used to being alone, getting used to liking my own company, being happy with myself, learning to love myself. There’s no sense fighting something that is so very blatant. It’s something I’ve been afraid of for so long- this aloneness. I give up. I’m not fighting anymore.
I know I’m not truly alone. I have family, friends, mother, blogosphere, neighbors. My aloneness is more figurative than literal. It is a state of mind rather than a state of being. Belonging to Sir S pushed back the feeling of loneliness for awhile but it was not right for either of us. Now I am back to being alone.
I knew when I woke up this morning that it would be helpful if I made a gratitude list or a list of my accomplishments or some other positivity exercise. I didn’t. I threw myself into schoolwork and then dealt with some home repair, putting on a mask of productivity. When I felt overwhelmed, I watched Little Dorrit on TV. Somehow, a little Charles Dickens makes my life quite cheery in comparison, a little less blue for a little while.