Something to write about...

I'm currently starting this blog post in between what seems to be a never ending night of discipline, corner time and reflection.

I've been given a break before the next round to focus on how I got to where I am.  What were the choices I made in the past few days, the signs that I can look for in the future to keep me from this situation again.  

I cannot promise you much structure in this post.  Judge or don't judge me on the babble you are about to read.  I am compelled to put my thoughts down.

At this moment, I am calm, for the first time in days, and I'm turning to the outlet that I have made for myself.   An outlet that I have neglected for weeks now.

I began to justify my neglect by telling myself there was simply nothing to write about.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  I would stare at a blank page and refuse to write about what was really bugging me. I felt it would show weakness if wrote about my fears of being off schedule for the holidays, or how lately I can't shake this weight of insecurity off of me.  Instead, I went to my old bag of tricks and pulled out my pride and denial.  I don't NEED to write, I don't NEED to reflect.  What is a few weeks going to hurt?

It's not really about the lack of writing, it's the lack of processing what is going on in this head of mine. Shoving down and pretending that these feelings do not exist has boiled over making me anxious, unfocused and defiant. 

I have outright disrespected Aaron, along with the two most patient mentors a girl could ever ask for. 

With the mentors, the effects of my decision were subtle at first.  Instead of talking about my insecurities, I pouted and figuratively stomped my feet.   I knowingly neglected Sir-ing most of the time, particularly when required verbally.  I resisted much of what was asked from me this week and last. Meeting requirements set for me by the skin of my teeth would be an overstatement.  I covered up my submissive shortcomings with excuses and jokes in hopes they wouldn't see the threads unraveling.  I should have asked for help.  I should have fessed up that I wasn't trying as hard as I should have been.  Being deceptively unsubmissive left me frustrated with myself, making me in turn, even less willing to do the tasks needed.  This morning I did not do what was asked and was out of excuses. I resorted to lying to cover it up.

Covering up situations does not help any relationship.  Lying will kill one faster than anything else I can think of.

The physical consequences have been accounted for, Aaron made sure of that.  I have been told that I will make it right tomorrow.  I plan on it.

With Aaron, my mistakes this week have taken a little longer to come to a head.  We jumped into the holidays together as a team, both knowing how exhausting it can be to feel like you're needed two places at once.  I did not take the opportunity to relay the worry to him that the holiday celebrations play havoc on my need for structure.  I should have asked for help in this area as well, I should have communicated better.  Today I believe the post Christmas adrenaline subsided, leaving me irritable and testy.  I made choices that disrepected him at work, argued and pushed buttons.  


Between the mentors and Aaron today, I knew I was on the road to a "reboot".  I could see my train going off course.  I just didn't have the tools to stop it myself. 


Aaron with one too many buttons pressed today is putting me back on track.

I'm relieved and ever so thankful for it.  








 

Controlling the Chaos

In the continuation with the confessional theme I've got going on my blog, I'd like to make another announcement.....ready?

I'm a control freak trapped in a submissive's body.


Phew. I feel better. Cleansed even.


In a non DD relationship, it would be my way or the highway. However, Aaron and I both agree he's better suited at calling the shots. I'm obviously okay with that. I know that if I'm not the one in control, I sure as hell better trust the person that is. And he'd better be good at it. Being cute (err manly) doesn't hurt either.


Not to worry, Aaron fits that bill on all accounts and then some.


So we've gone along with in this set up for our entire relationship. Win win for both of us really.


It's when I feel things are genuinely out of both of our control I begin to panic. I attempt to change our way of life by taking the reins, in hopes of giving myself a false sense of security. I do this by pushing the boundaries I have agreed to live in. Testing my limits and walking right over the line, often going toe-to-toe with the person I love the most.


I need him to push back.


I need him to gain the control back if not of the situation, but at least of me.


Allow me to further explain with an example:


A year ago, Aaron and I decided it was high time we had a little one running around the household. We dove in head first and I just KNEW we'd succeed after the first month.

Months and quite a few doctor visits later, it was clear that we were in the midst of a reproductive mutiny. Things were going to take longer than we expected, with no clear-cut answer on how or when we were going to get our end prize.


The news was frustrating to say the least.  But we marched on, hand in hand and went on to the next step.  Two weeks ago, we got some news that our first medicated attempt was unsuccessful.
 

Upon hearing the news, I sucked it up and took it like a man.


Or cried a lot.


I'll let you decide how I took the news. Consider it a choose-your-own-adventure book throw back.


Anywhoo.


I came to the grim realization that neither myself or my husband were in control of this. Neither one of us can will this to happen.


This realization didn’t sit well for me. I slid into my own little whirlwind of irrational disaster over dinner that night. I’m sure the people in the restaurant enjoyed the show. I can guarantee to any of them that although I enjoy chicken wings and mugs of beer the size of your head as much as the next person, it was not the hot sauce that had me crying.


Aaron, bless him, stood strong as I spouted fears of the unknown and attempted in vain to “pull the plug” on the whole ordeal. I felt that we could control the situation by just stopping. We’d just quit and our problems would be over. I was willing to throw a year’s worth of hard work and emotions away. 

I was testy, belligerent and down right rude to my husband when he disagreed with me. I was pulling away into my own cocoon of deconstruction and trying to bring him down in the process.


Aaron has quite a few years under his belt dealing with me. He fortunately knew exactly what I needed.  Even when I didn’t.


I’m still ashamed to say that the session was not met with easy submission.


He stuck with it (did I mention he’s full of perseverance?), we reconnected (finally) and I can say the next morning I was feeling a little down (and to his satisfaction, sore), but had an overall better outlook about our situation and our next “plan” of attack.

This is just one (although very big and recent) situation where my control issues have gotten the better of me.


I’m hoping that eventually I’ll learn to roll with the punches and not have such a dramatic response to feeling out of control.  However I'm not quite sure what to do in the meantime. 


Or, I could also just hope that eventually EVERYTHING will go EXACTLY how I want it to go from now on for the rest of my life.


Remind me to start on a denial confessional post next.