Monday, December 23, 2013

One Year and Two Days Later

I’ve waited till now to write this because I was reluctant to write it any sooner. Losing my mother and coping with her sudden unexpected death was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Yes, there were things that I mourned over that I has more of a reaction to (Mom would understand) since her death, but she is who and what I miss most in my life. I have almost constant reminders of her, and now that I have my own place, my own home, I find little reminders of her in the strangest spots. Sometimes, I manage to smile or even laugh. Other times, I fall apart and cry loudly, but, mostly, my reactions are somewhere in between.

The Christmas tree: It was in a box on storage, and we emptied the storage earlier this month. It’s been in a box in the garage since then. Shilo finally broached the subject last week. I told him he could put it up. He did it on the one year anniversary of her death while I was out for the day. Seeing the lights through the living room window caused me to smile, but I haven’t put on the decorations or turned on the lights. I can’t. It’s just too hard right now. The nativity scene is still boxed up somewhere. Mom Loved it, and was a perfectionist in setting it up ‘just so.’ How can I possibly do it justice? How can I do any of this and give her honor? The sad truth is that I’m still feeling lost about it all. I need to figure it all out on my own, and I don’t have a map. I don’t even have a navigator. It’s just me, lost in a sea of darkness. Okay, maybe it’s not really that horrible, but it does feel like that at times, and while I try to fill these days just before Christmas, I avoid everything to do with it.

Avoiding everything: Christmas Carols at the stores… I run in and get out as quickly as possible when going to the mall. I went this past Friday and bought gifts for Stitch and Shilo. Total time: 25 minutes, most of which was spent in line to pay. I went again Saturday evening with Stitch to look for a dress but came home with nothing. I spent 45 minutes total in the stores that time. Running errands in other stores Saturday evening was an adventure. I was so preoccupied in my search that I didn’t notice the music if there was any. I’ve avoided Christmas specials on TV, but I did record “Rudolph” because it is my favorite program. I’ve not watched it yet. Not sure if I can get through it without crying. Lastly, the radio… I quickly change the station when I hear the beginning of any Christmas song. In fact, over the past month, I’ve only heard three songs, none of which caused me to cry.

I feel almost Grinch-like in my actions to the outside world, but, unlike the Grinch, I already know that Christmas is here, it’s coming fast, and I can’t stop it. It’s in the heart, and while it breaks mine to be without my mother, I know that there are children experiencing the wonder and joy of it for the very first time. Not one year olds, I mean slightly older, when they finally have a grasp of it. I try to be happy for them. Sunshine will hopefully always have that, but she’s not even interested in seeing Santa Claus this time. Yes, she’s sad too. She even hijacked my body for most of the weekend, but was kind enough to leave a few memories. I guess she was worried about me. Either way, I’m either sad or numb. NOT a good thing. I know it will eventually be easier, but I’m not there yet.

The victims: Yes, there are victims. Sunshine, who mourns mom’s death so greatly, more than I ever could. Stitch, because he loved her so much, and she was good to him. I’m not exactly sure how he feels, because I’m in my own bubble when it comes to this, but I’ll say that there have been more than a few times when we cried together. Finally, there is Shilo. Sweet Shilo came into this after the fact. He was told about all this in the beginning, but I feel like sometimes the entire situation is overwhelming. He’s comforted us (both Sunshine and me) in the car, the van, the grocery store, church, the mall, you name it, and he’s done so with such graciousness, kindness and Love, that I feel so very grateful to have him in my life. I also understand that mom had to die for me to have him in my life, and that I wouldn’t have the good things that I have in my life right now if mom hadn’t died (cause and effect) so I face that reality too.

Soo… Two days till Christmas and I’m still fighting myself, avoiding the places that mom and I would go to just so I won’t fall apart and cry. The psychologist in me tells me to go there because it would be cathartic, and the rest of me fights it,  not wanting to re-open those wounds, I’m not sure who will win, but I know that I’d better decide quickly, because time is running out and I actually need to get those things.

For those of you who celebrate, I hope your Christmas is happy and full of Joy. For the rest of you: Enjoy your hump day. I think I’ll survive.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Doing It Wrong… A Confession

Oh, where do I begin? The beginning is too soon, the middle seems a little late, and the end? Well. It’s not happened yet, and, with a little luck, it will be a very long time from now.

Let’s start by establishing a few things. I am ‘scattered,’ I can’t help it. Keeping things and myself together is nearly impossible. It’s something I do my best to explain to people, but very few understand it, until, one day, I’m particularly so, and then they tell me (as if I didn’t know) “You are scattered.” Thank you! Now that we’ve established that, can we please continue with our coffee and conversation, or whatever else we were doing?? I’m a closeted perfectionist. I want things the way I want them, but I will also look at a task and decide whether or not I think I can do it. If I feel it’s impossible (or improbable) I won’t do it. There’s no need or use for me to extend my energies on something that I can’t do perfectly. I detest failure. Specifically, my failure. Your failure is yours, and, while I might point it out, or complain, it’s quickly forgotten and forgiven. Some people mistake my desire for perfection, and refusal to do something I feel I won’t succeed at as laziness, but I don’t care what others think, unless I’m having a personal crisis, and then everything matters. So… I am flawed and a perfectionist. Some might say I’m doomed to fail, but they don’t know me. My redeeming quality in all this is that I’m honest. I tell the truth. Yes, it’s MY truth, but still the truth. My mouth often gets me into trouble, and I pay the consequences.

I can’t really talk about Shilo’s qualities without mentioning Stitch. It wouldn’t be fair. Stitch is loving and caring and, whatever he does, he means well. He’s always anticipating my next move, and will often go above and beyond what is expected/requested of him, often to his own detriment. It’s endearing and irritating. Shilo, on the other hand, is self-assured, and is a pretty good judge of character. He has a low tolerance for people who whine, and he gets things done right the first time without prompting. Where Stitch guesses, Shilo knows, and if I give him something to do, it will be done right. Both Stitch and Shilo have one similar fault: If I notice something awry and happen to mention it, they both take it personally. Stitch will object loudly, and Shilo will shut down. I don’t enjoy fighting/arguing, but if Stitch gets loud, I get loud right along with him, and we often wind up laughing. When Shilo gets upset (and he does so on a regular basis) I wind up with a stony-cold silent man. I can’t handle that very well, and, many times, I’m not exactly sure what set it off. All I know is that something went wrong somewhere and I have to guess. It’s frustrating, and if I ask him directly, he often won’t answer. If it wasn’t for his journal entries, I’d have no clue what went wrong 80% of the time. He holds grudges (just like me… I said I had flaws!) and does things to his own detriment to prove a point. 

Occasionally, I’ll think things are just fine and smooth sailing till I read his journal. Things I thought were resolved this weekend apparently were not according to what he wrote, and so, while he has no idea that I read his entries as soon as I woke up this morning, I already know that he’s still a little (a lot?) upset over some things I said that were meant to be corrections. Which, by the way, once I said them and felt they were resolved, I forgot about them… well, until I read about them this morning. Now I just feel like crap, because he’s still hurting, and it’s a failure on my part. So… what do I do? What can I do? I guess I could try to repeat what I said over the weekend to him, but I can’t remember half of what I told him. I could play stupid and act like everything is fine, but that will eventually blow up in my face in a very bad way. I could try to get him to talk (I fail nearly all the time on that) or I could write this, and tell him that I Love him, I appreciate him, and that he’s perfect for me. The things he’s held onto are things that we discussed, and it’s over with. I'm no longer upset.

We’re from completely different environments, and I panic because I’m so used to doing without that when I have, I treat it like it’s precious and I want to make it last. It’s going to be a while for me to adjust to “having” so please be patient with me. You are my Superman, my Knight in Shining armor. Yes, there’s kryptonite and chinks in your armor, but that’s okay. Love makes all that inconsequential. Just remember and remind me that I’m not in that dark hole anymore.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

An Apology

For ALL to see...

Dear Shilo,

I was wrong. Yes, I’m your Mistress, and you are my slave/husband/slub, but you need to know you mean so very much to me. Yes, I get hurt and moody, but it doesn’t change my feelings. I Love you with all my heart, and you are my Joy.

I know I’m not easy to live with, I’m bitchy and demanding, and I want things the way I want them. I rarely explain myself, and I expect you to accept all of it without questioning me. Naturally, you are curious, and you need answers, but sometimes, I just can’t explain it all.

I think I’ve told you before how easy it is for you to rip me apart, and the main reason why is because of my Love for you. It doesn’t make me “soft” on you, but it does make me vulnerable. I’ve said this to you at least 100 times, but it bears repeating: I am a woman first, your Mistress second. I’m also forgetful due to the seizures etc; and I often mean to do things, and then I promptly forget to do them.  In this way, especially, you have been a Godsend to me. You’ve “rescued” me many times over the past 6 months, and I could never thank you enough.

All I had to do was remember one simple thing, and I couldn’t even do that right, and it eats at me. I could easily blame your lying to me for pushing me so far over the edge that I forgot it, and that would be partially true, but I need to be accountable for my actions, or, in this case, inactions.

I may not have forgotten your birthday, but the lack of a card and/or present obviously really upset you, and I’m really sorry about that. I’m not exactly sure how or whether I can make it up to you, but it wasn’t intentional. It’s been YEARS since Stitch and I did anything for our birthdays or even Christmas. We just do little things when we can, or I fix him a special meal or we go out. No cards or gifts. So, while it really wasn’t intentional to hurt you, I get the feeling it hurt you more than I thought, and I apologize for your hurt feelings. There are other things on my mind, too, but this is all I can fix right now.


Friday, December 6, 2013


"Opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one" Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965)

There is the problem: We all have opinions on things, and it is good that we are all different with different opinions. Asking for help, or an opinion allows us to see things differently. The problem is when we receive unsolicited opinions from people who "think" they know better than you do. Excuse me a moment, but, if you really knew me, you would know why your way would not work for me, besides, I don't recall even asking your opinion in the first place!

I have a Mentor, I have trusted friends and acquaintances from both sides of the slash, and, when I need an opinion or insight, I can (and do) go to them and ask. Sometimes I do what they suggest, other times, I don't, but the important part is that I asked them. Little Miss (or Mister) know-it-all can kiss my ass!

There's nothing wrong with someone who has more experience taking me aside and offering me tips, especially if I know them. My problem is with complete strangers who don't know anything about me telling me or (even worse) my husband/slave what I (or he) should be doing. Shilo is still learning how I like things, and for someone to come along and tell him things contrary to what I want or like is just plain rude.

So, what exactly has my panties in a bunch? Some random female top told him to use baby oil post-spanking. I cannot stand the feel of makeup, lotions or oils on my skin, and forget perfumes or anything else! I also have severe allergies, so I'm very careful about  what I allow in my household. Shilo didn't bother to ask me about the suggestion, instead, I was "surprised" by it when I touched him one day after he got out of the shower. Sure, it was as simple as sending him back in, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place.

I was (and still am) so very tempted to hunt her down and tell her off, but I've decided to write this instead. Don't give unsolicited advice to another woman's submissive or slave! The next Mistress/Dominant/Master you piss off may not be as nice as I am. Handle your own household, and mind your own business. Next time I may not be so nice.

As for those of you who have provided me guidance when I've asked, I thank you. You're all the best!