Loathing In The House Of The Laughing Sun

I'm trying, I've tried. As far as I know, I've done my very best. I don't lie to Shilo, and other than the occasional sadness or worries about things, I don't hide things from him. It's perfect. Well, except for now.

There is insanity creeping in. I don't know if it's because of us being stuck at home due to the continuing COVID-19 stay at home orders, or something else. All I do know is that there's no reasoning with crazy, and that crazy eventually rubs off onto everything and everyone else. People who know me best know that while I can be social when necessary, I much prefer being quiet at home. Oh! and hugs! I am a hugger. I enjoy physical contact, but on my conditions. Obviously, I'm not getting nearly enough hugs. This adds to my depression and anxiety. Again, due to the COVID-19 restrictions, I don't see people who I used to see ALL the time. This includes "Master B." Sure, we've seen each other a few times, but due to the potential health risks, we have made a conscious decision to not see each other. It suits us well. Over the time we've been in a relationship, we have gone through long periods of time (3+ months) where we didn't see each other. We're also guilty of having a lack of communication, in that we will go for weeks without talking to each other on the phone or even emailing each other or texting. It's just how we are in our relationship. Again, this is NOT a big deal. Not for us, anyway. We’re both confident and comfortable with it.

Do I miss "Master B?" Sure I miss him, but not in the same longing for him way that I have missed Shilo when we’ve been apart. Like it or not, I’m very attached to Shilo. Unfortunately, Shilo has been extremely difficult lately. Aggressive, disagreeable, argumentative, and he’s been making my life a living hell. I know he’s going to see this, but I’m not concerned about that. What I am concerned about is his reason. Why is he acting like this? What (real or imagined) thing has happened to cause this? I asked him last night. I’m past frustration, and I’ve gotten to the point of exasperation with his behavior, and his answer didn’t make things any better. What is Shilo’s reason for mistreating me, you ask? Brace yourselves, people. This is good. In his (Shilo’s) words taken from his blog (https://merryslavesdiary.blogspot.com/2020/12/15-december-tuesday-diary-hfc-70.html)

“A feeling of ..anger..and resentment... building up within me, based on my belief that she would rather be with B than with me.”

That’s it! That’s what he thinks, and NONE OF IT is based on reality. It’s all his thinking and imagination, and I’m being punished for it. And, yes, this is punishing for me. The anger and resentment being displayed hurts me to the core, and he knows it, and he doesn’t care, because in his mind, I deserve it. I’d laugh if I didn’t feel like crying.

I’ve reassured him to the best of my ability, told him he can look through all my accounts to see what I’ve written and sent to “Master B.” I have nothing to hide. But Shilo thinks I have some “hidden agenda.” I don’t. I’m battling an overwhelming feeling of sadness and depression and doing my best to muddle through. Blame the time of year. Tomorrow will be 8 years since my Mom’s sudden and unexpected death. It comes down to would I like to see “Master B?” Yes, but not with all the COVID-19 restrictions. Do I miss him? Yes, but I miss LOTS of people, some more than others. Would I rather be with him than Shilo? That’s a trick question, because right now Shilo is currently doing everything in his power to make me miserable, and I don’t like feeling miserable. But in general, no, I’d rather be right here where I am, with my Chosen One and Husband, Shilo. He (Shilo) is my home, “Master B” is my Disneyland. Fun to visit under normal circumstances, but I most certainly wouldn’t want to live there, and after a day or two, I’m more than ready to go home, and right now, home is where I want to be. I just wish Shilo understood that.

 

EDITED TO ADD:

It's a good thing that Shilo has been avoiding the six o'clock alarm, because his anger has rubbed off on me.  I couldn't spank him anyway.

 

Observing Shilo, An Update

Over 3 years ago, I noticed the changes in Shilo as his still undiagnosed prostate cancer worked its way deeper into his body and metastasized. I spent over two years arguing with the (former) GP to get a PSA test done on him, and I've spent the past year dealing with the effects of that neglect. Inoperable metastatic prostate cancer. He has been receiving chemotherapy since March this year, and his 9 weeks of radiation therapy is scheduled to come to an end on December 17th. The radiation has not been kind to him, and many days he's been too sick to eat. Seeing that come to an end and him possibly feeling better will be a happy occasion indeed!

On the other hand, he will probably be on chemotherapy for the rest of his life, and fortunately, his body has tolerated the effects of it really well. The lack of testosterone and subsequent increase in estrogen and its effects on him physically, mentally, and emotionally have been interesting. While not what I would call stoic, Shilo wasn't one to express his emotions with me. Now there is a lovely spectrum coming from him. His Love is expressed in many ways, as are his fears, desires, and sharing his needs. It really is beautiful to have him share with me. His understanding of what I'm feeling and why I'm feeling that way has increased to a point where not only will he reach for me, but his ability to empathize with me is amazing. He has become my mirror, and with all the pain and confusion there's been, it allows for healing in ways beyond my imagination.

Always comfortable with his masculinity, even when I would dress him in women's clothing, he has continued to be so, and has embraced the physical effects of the lack of testosterone. My days of dressing him as a woman are likely over, but he knows that I enjoy the breast growth, and I don't poke at him, remembering what it was like when my breasts started developing. In fact, I'm more likely to ask his permission before handling him. He's undergone so many changes, that I feel it would be selfish for me to force things on him. I like to think of him as the same man I married 6+ years ago but with upgrades.

I remember being told in January that chemotherapy for prostate cancer had a different effect than the more "traditional" chemotherapy, and I'm so glad I didn't convince him to shave off all his lovely hair. His lovely hair and nice ass were the things that initially attracted me to him. He still has that.

I understand that some people wouldn't like the effects of increased estrogen, which include breast growth, shrinkage of the penis and testes, decreased libido, and all the emotional changes as well, but in my opinion, it beats dying of cancer. It's a matter of deciding what is more important in your relationship: having one where your partner has a chance of survival or not having a partner at all.

Is it hard? Well, I have had days where I struggled to not feel sorry for both him and myself, and cried so many tears that I became thirsty from dehydration. I am not exaggerating! Then there was our 6 year wedding anniversary weekend in September where he was feeling well enough to travel, and we went to Ventura with me driving, and had a wonderful time doing a few of his "Bucket List" items. He was even looking healthy then, and I have pictures that I will treasure. I'll say that I'm constantly learning how to roll with the punches. We both are.

Having an extended support system of friends and loved ones has made it easier, and I know that most of them are only a call or text away. Having someone who will hold my hand and/or cry with me allows me to focus on the important stuff. The sadness never stays long, and worry? Well life is full of worries, so why allow it to rule me? I can easily come up with a list of friends and family who are having a difficult time right now, so I know we aren't alone, and if I can shine a light or light a candle to help them through the dark, then my job is done. I know they will do the same for me.

Merry

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzutyUquD5A

Something On My Mind

Let me start off by saying that I am okay. Yes, I have had the cold from hell for nearly three weeks, but it is getting better.

However, the thought that nobody gets out of here alive has been on my mind. Mortality. Every one of us will die one day. It's unpredictable. A crapshoot. I've watched healthy people die, while their sickly counterpart lived on. It happens. I for one, never imagined that I would get old. I figured that I would die young. Yes, these days, I still feel young, but I'm still much older than I ever imagined I would be.

I will say that I am at peace with myself. I don't fear my own death. I haven't ever since that incident in December 2016.(https://keepcalmanddowhatmerrytellsyou.blogspot.com/2016/12/i-cant-feel-my-face-12-28-16.html) Still, I'm in no rush to leave this world. I have plenty of reasons to live, even on my crappy days. What I do fear is the death and loss of others, and how it will affect me. I guess it's a common enough worry.  I remind myself that I have made it through rough spots already, but it leaves me with little comfort.

Sometimes I fear being old and alone more than anything. Silly, I know, but if I had the choice, I would like to go with Shilo and Stitch. All three of us, gone together. Let my kids deal with it. It's the epitome of laziness. Once I'm dead, who cares if all my kinks are discovered? They know about the polyamory, so I doubt anything will shock them.

Forgiveness.  Being able to forgive yourself and others. I can do that. Forgive others. Easy. I don't hold grudges.  If someone did something that horrible, it's on them to make it right. If I forgive them, even if they never ask, it's on them to deal with the guilt. Apologizing is easy as well for me.  I prefer a clear conscience. It makes it easier on me. Forgiving myself can be difficult at times but I do it. I have so many shortcomings, so it's hard for me to deal with it at times, but I do pretty well.

I get angry and I talk about it. Again, mortality. I want to keep that clear conscience. Holding on to it only hurts me.  Strangely enough, religion has nothing to do with it. It's case of morality for me. A personal belief system.  When I apologize for a wrongdoing, it's sincere. Morality and mortality.  Both are important to me.

Chances. I want to give people a chance to make things right. It's always my hope and desire that they do so. Life is unpredictable and often too short. No matter how long we live, I'm pretty sure that we feel like we have so much more to do or say.

Sometimes I think about the movie "Forrest Gump." On recalling the death of his friend Bubba, he said "If I'd known this would be the last time we'd talk I'd have thought of something better to say." It's funny how we always focus on the last words of the deceased, when the focus should probably be the last thing we tell them. Forrest is right. If I knew someone was dying, what would I say to them? Once a person is dead, you can't ask them to forgive you, can you? Likewise, the dead person can't ask you to forgive them either. 

My poor ex-boyfriend from a year ago (https://keepcalmanddowhatmerrytellsyou.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-aftermath.html) has told others that I am bitter because I don't want to see him or have anything to do with him. He doesn't understand that I forgave him for his actions a long time ago, and that I don't want to see him or deal with him because it would only cause those wounds to reopen. I may be a masochist, but I'm not that type of masochist. No, I prefer to heal completely from emotional wounds.

I know I'm rambling. I needed to clear my head. So just in case this is the last time you read me, or it's the last time I write, please know that you are appreciated by me .

One Year Ago Today (7-25) Just Before Midnight... And other things...

I had my accident, and broke my right humerus in two places.The following afternoon, my Mentor lost his life after suffering a series of major strokes. He was 64.

Today I'm mostly healed, although I sometimes have residual pain. There are still some things I'm unable to do in spite of the many hours of PT that I endured. Still, I'm grateful for the movement I have, and I know what a long way I've come since then.

On July 13th, I turned 56. A few nights later, Shilo and Stitch took me out to dinner.  It was a fun night, and I'm glad we went out.

On July 21st, I woke up to this email:

There were 2 other emails in addition to this one. A total of $3,666 and some change was taken from my accounts. Note that the one above is marked "HOUSEHOLD."  Keep in mind that while these accounts all have my name on it. not a single penny is mine. The money belonged to Stitch and Shilo. It was the money we use for rent, utilities, car insurance and gasoline so Shilo can get to and from work every day (75 miles roundtrip!)

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???!!!

is a question we've been asked by others. It's simple, and yet not so simple. Our theory is that sometime in March wile we were moving a Summons was handed to someone (my guess is my oldest son age 33) and it wasn't given to me. The court date came, and a default judgement was made, so my funds were seized.

Shilo drove me to the Van Nuys Courthouse and we were told to call the Attorney for the other side. They didn't care that the money wasn't "mine" all they cared about was that they got "their" money.

Over the weekend both Shilo and Stitch (together and separately) applied for loans from at least 20 different companies with each one getting rejected. As a last-ditch effort, I opened a Go Fund Me page. This isn't my proudest moment. I don't like showing my vulnerabilities, and I DETEST asking for help, but like my Mom always told me "You don't get if you don't ask;" and this is truly an emergency.  If you are willing or able to help, the link is below. Also, if you want to share, it would be appreciated.


(GoFundMe link redacted)


Thank You!

♥

Merry

Death

In the past week, several people I call friend have died. Friend is not a title I give loosely. You earn that. Yes, there are Facebook friends, Fetlife friends, etc; but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about more than just that. People I've shared secrets with, laughed with, and cried with. People who made a difference in my life. People who never forgot that they were loved by me.


M died due to a blood clot that traveled to her brain. It was sudden, but in the days preceding her death, we (her friends) knew that she was going to die. Hard? Yes. 

Tommy started out as an online acquaintance about 15 years ago that turned into something more. In April 2010, during a cross country road trip, we finally met up. The sparks were real. I met his daughter then as well. If she hadn't been there, more might have happened, but it wasn't to be. I never considered him a "lost love" because we became facebook friends, and would call on a regular basis until my mom died. Still, Facebook kept us in touch. Even when I found out he was a Trump supporter, I kept in touch. We made plans to see each other "soon" because I just knew I'd return to Texas eventually.

An excerpt of our last online conversation is below:

Mary Price You aren't racist or hate-mongering. You just have a different opinion on things.
 

Obamacare kept my son Jonathan alive when he developed cancer. He would be dead today if it wasn't for the Affordable Care Act. Still, I accept that you have a different opinion.
 

Now stop yelling about your guns blazing and give Merry a hug. You know you want to.
 

I'm sure that everything will work out.

May 11 at 8:01am 

Tommy  (((Hugs))) love ya hun wish you didnt live so far away you love me for who I am and not for what you want me to be.A true heart you have.Im truly happy that hes doing better I remember the hell you had.Im not saying Obama Care is all bad but I shouldnt have to have 4 hundred bucks taken out of my paycheck because I dont have healthcare either.I can always just go to the VA...

May 11 at 12:23pm


Tommy was found dead in his bedroom Sunday morning (5-14) with a broken neck. All I could get out of his daughter was that it was an accident. I'm heartbroken. Tommy was always helping people, and even when his house burned down a few years ago, he helped out others. He was a giving person. I'm proud to have been his friend, and I'm grateful that I gave him "flowers" while he was living. 

I have a favor to ask: Please remember that we only walk on this earth for a limited time. We don't know when our life might end, or the lives of others. Please don't hold back your feelings. Tell people 'Thank you, I love you, I care' if you feel that way. Share those good happy feelings. Don't be full of regret when it's too late.

Merry

Uninspired or Unfocused?

We've almost made it through the first month of 2017. I'm sitting here wondering if I'm uninspired by my life as it is, or simply unfocused. Don't get me wrong, plenty of stuff is going on, whether outwardly or behind the scenes, and unless I put it here, it simply goes into my (rapidly fading) memories. I'm not feeling a sense of urgency to talk or even write about stuff that mostly makes sense if you are present in the moment. I could twist it into funny anecdotes, even kinky anecdotes, but why bother? Apathetic is a good word for this. I've reached homeostasis in my life. Every system is predictable. Just where it should be. My "road" isn't "bumpy", it's paved and straight as far as the eye can see. There are a few places coming up where I might turn, like an interesting looking diner or two with an unknown menu, but even though they are getting closer, I'm not feeling the urgency that I normally would. Don't let the calm demeanor fool you. I'm totally out of control. It's a self driving car, and I'm snugly buckled up in the passenger seat. I can yell STOP!!! all I want to, but it's not like it's going to stop just because I want it to.


Since I can't quite tell you where I'm going, I'll share where I've been. January 16th, I saw my Ortho doctor using my new insurance plan. He ordered New PT because my new coverage didn't cover my old PT. He also ordered an MRI. Neither of them are things I'm looking forward to. I got a call Friday to (finally!) set up those appointments. Because I'm physically unable to drive (trust me, I tried and I frightened myself!) I have to depend on Shilo, and his schedule (graves) affects when I can go anywhere, and if you keep in mind that I have his time limits, plus the ones imposed by the places I need to be seen, it's a scheduling nightmare. My MRI is on Sunday the 5th. I use google calendar, so I put it in and sent Shilo (who was dead asleep) an email. He neglected to write Superbowl on that day, so I forgot. 6 hours later, he asked me why I would plan something on Superbowl Sunday. Maybe because it wasn't on the calendar? I'm not a mind reader, and every day melts into every other day unless I schedule something. I only know it's Saturday or Sunday because Stitch is here, and there's the Wednesday alarm to move the car for street cleaning, and Thursday to unlock the gate so the pool can get cleaned. A few weeks ago, when Shilo had the plague, I moved the car. That convinced me once and for all that I cannot drive the car. The Super Bowl can get recorded on the DVR. Problem solved! The next day, I get my new PT assessment. A week later (2-13) I see the Ortho doctor again to discuss my options in detail. Am I the only one who is disturbed that it will have been 4 weeks since he ordered everything until I see him again? Or, rather, that I had to wait 3 weeks for everything to be taken care of? Then I remind myself that my copay is only $10, so maybe I have no right to complain. Driverless car, here I go!


I also saw my GP last week on Monday (1-23) for a routine appointment to check my labs (blood sugar and A1c) and as I've said before, I dropped about 40 pounds since my accident, so he couldn't say I've been misbehaving, but I also know that I'm not taking my metformin the way I'm supposed to (once a day instead of twice) so I told him that before he could even discuss the numbers with me, my numbers, in case you're wondering, were good. Right where he wants them, and my blood pressure is good as well. I was almost breathing that sigh of relief when he asked about my frozen shoulder and how that was progressing (going nowhere fast crossed my mind) and I told him I was off the opiates and NSAID's for pain. I was going to leave it at that, but Shilo asked me if I was going to "come clean". I smiled tersely at Shilo, and told my doctor about using edibles, which turned into a discussion about CBD's, THC and smoking. He asked me if I get high, and I told him that I have no pain, but never feel high. Thankfully, Shilo said nothing about that one episode. I'd rather forget it if I could. Live and learn. It turns out that my doctor is very open-minded about the benefits of medical marijuana, and he said it was better than me taking pain medications every 4 hours around the clock.


I haven't had that discussion with my Ortho doctor, and I'm avoiding it if possible. He seems rather old-fashioned, and having that discussion might prevent me from having the treatments I need. We'll see what happens in February.


The House I live in has been sold. The company that purchased it is working with us to assist us in relocating. Shilo has been handling business, so I'm only told what I need to know. I've been really calm about this since I found out a few weeks ago, It's easy to be calm when you realize everything going on around you is completely out of your control. I'm still the Dominant, Mistress, and Head of Household, but my job is to heal and make decisions if necessary, and the decisions are being made for us. I'm strangely removed from all this. Saying "Okay" has become second nature. I'm being taken care of. No panic, just waiting for it to come.


Speaking of being removed, there was an upheaval where I receive my mental health care. In the past year, I've had 3 changes in therapists/psychiatrists. Normally, changes would put me in a tailspin, but with the way 2016 was, it barely registered with me. Other than my long-term doctor retiring in January last year, I never really formed an attachment with any of the people. I mean, how could I even begin to trust someone who might not be around the next time I had an appointment? In December, I was given what will hopefully be a permanent doctor. I saw him yesterday for the second time, and while he's not unpleasant, all he wants to know is if I need refills on my antidepressant. I spent less than 10 minutes in his office which was long enough for me to tell him I was fine on the antidepressants, the house was sold, and I felt oddly removed from it all, but I wasn't depressed. He seemed satisfied and reminded me to make an appointment on my way out. He seems even more removed than I feel. It would be a lie for me to say I don't care, because I do, but not enough for me to make a scene in a mostly unoccupied Mental Health Clinic. I did think to tell him that I've been on the same medication since 1997, and that it works, and that if I ever have a problem, I'll call him, so please if I call for him to realize it's serious. He barely glanced at me, but at least he pronounces my unusual name correctly, so I can't complain. ::YAWN::

OTHER STUFF

I really am mostly pain free with the edibles, although because I have a really sharp sense of smell, I'll tell you that I reek of pot, but I'm the only one who can smell it. My right arm movement is limited, but I've mastered the use of using paddles with my left arm, and Shilo is back to receiving funishment spankings. We even filmed over the weekend. A friend cut my hair last week, so now I can do almost all my hair care with minimal assistance. When I showered Monday morning, other than the shampooing, I stood up and did it without asking for help to get scrubbed. The chair is in there if I need it, but I'm trying to be as independent as possible. I also attended the munch in Lake Forest this past Friday night. My kink activities will be limited to weekends until I'm able to drive again, or deemed "recovered" whichever comes first, but I'm not holding my breath.


I also spent Saturday going through all the things I inherited from Daddy W. His ex-wife brought it to me a week after he died, but I was in so much pain then that I barely remember what I had been given. I guess she kept his knife collection, but I have his paddles, favorite floggers, a neon wand, and other goodies.


I guess I'm inspired and focused after all. It's just that I am in a position where I'm not in the driver's seat, and there's someone driving for me, but the driver changes frequently. Insurance company, Ortho doctor, GP, Shilo, the real estate people. Yadda yadda, yadda...


Also, because I know they will see this, I miss my boyfriend and his girlfriend. Hugs and kisses to them!

I Can't Feel My Face! (12-28-16)

Warning:

If you are offended by Religion (in general) what happens to a body when someone dies, terrorists (in general). Love or loss of body function, please leave now. I got nothing for you.


It was bound to happen eventually. Using edibles for pain requires trial and error. My morning routine of starting with breakfast and a sour strawberry straw was only working until about 3PM, and then I would eat a cola bottle to get me through the rest of the day, and it wasn't quite working. I was debating this yesterday when I woke up. I figured I'd see how I did with two sour strawberry straws (about 36mg) and go from there.


I got my edible bag (a purse that has my edibles in it) and noticed a caramel fudge that was 35 mg. I decided to eat it. I mean, what harm could there be? I put the sour strawberry straws away, and ate the caramel fudge instead. It tasted good. I played games on my phone waiting for it to work.


About an hour later, it happened. My vision got blurry, my body got warm, and my face was numb. The warmth kept washing over me, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. I thought I was going to die. I know that I'd have to consume more than I could possibly eat to actually overdose, and even then, it wouldn't kill me. I even knew it at that point, but my heart was pounding so hard, I was afraid.


I remember saying that I didn't want to die yet because I want to see my (overdue) grandson first. I put on my CPAP to help me breathe, and then I asked Shilo what would happen if I stopped breathing. Then I said "Nevermind, my lungs will just fill with air and then explode in my chest cavity." Then I went on about how when I died my mouth would pop open, so the air would rush out through it, and how it was a good thing I had on a diaper because I didn't want to piss and shit on the recliner and ruin it.


Then the inquisition started. The best way to explain it was that questions formed in my head about my life, and I had to answer out loud. I said That I believe in God, and I explained my belief regarding The Father, Son and Holy Ghost. I explained that I also believe that Satan is as real as God is, and that I believe in Heaven and hell. I asked about purgatory, and I said that I feel earth is purgatory, but I wasn't sure. I didn't get an answer.


I was asked about love. Could I feel enough love for everyone? Could I really forgive everyone, and find love in my heart for them? I found the forgiveness for everyone, including myself. Then I told them that since my Mom could do it, I could too. I even went on to say that I knew (person) asked forgiveness for the mean way she acted towards me, so I could forgive her and love her as well. I said that everyone who died before me had gone through this, and I knew it was the only right thing to do. I let go of my anger.


I saw where I held certain people to a standard that I have only recently reached myself. How dare I be angry at Jonathan's (now-ex) girlfriend for what she did, when I've done things I'm not proud of either? I remembered all the things I did and I explained why I did them, and how I could have handled it better.


I discussed that I realized how fortunate I was to be where I am. Soldiers aren't gunning down people in the street, and we aren't being bombed. Girls aren't being forced to marry and have kids before they're 12.


I asked Shilo what time it was, and was surprised it had only been 10 minutes. It felt like HOURS. I went back to the inquisition. I said "God knows I'm not perfect." and then I laughed, because for all I knew, it was God asking the questions.


I talked about my mental health, and how I hated being treated like I was fragile just because of the depression, PTSD et.al. I hate that there is a stigma. Why not just accept the mental illness? See the whole person. Don't be afraid. 


I talked about my fears. I realized I was less afraid by telling my fears. It got to the point I laughed after saying the words "I'm afraid." The truth is that because I believe on God, God watches over me, so I don't have to be afraid.


I talked about prayer and I explained that I felt it must be like being an "A list" celebrity. Everyone wants a piece of you. You have no privacy. All the millions of requests coming in at once. Why should I bother God with my concerns when there are so many people who are suffering more than me?


I was reminded that I need to stop being so selfish. "See the big picture, think globally." How do my actions affect others?


I talked about Osama bin Ladin,terrorists, ISIS, and people in other hate groups. How we all had different world views and that just because I viewed him as a horrible human being (just like Hitler) it didn't mean that everyone saw him like that. Surely, someone must have loved and admired him, and maybe even saw him as a hero. I talked about criminals in general and how I have no sympathy for them. They deserve punishment, but I also admitted that God is the Judge, not me.


I talked about "lizard-face" (Mohamed Atta) and how to me, he represented all that was evil on this world. I talked about "If you see something, say something" and how ridiculous it was. I joked about how I doubted he would have tweeted his plans, or added it as a status on Facebook or MySpace. I speculated that he probably only discussed it with people who would approve. Otherwise, wouldn't his plans have been thwarted? Never learning how to land a plane is a red flag.


I talked about romantic/sexual Love, desire, BDSM and Polyamory. About what my love style is, and how it came to be. Things I know God knows about me, but I was told to talk about it.


I asked about why submissive men worry so much about what they're wearing to a dungeon when it won't even be worn that long before someone takes it off. I never got any answers to my questions, but I got answers about what makes me me, and I saw all the love I really do have, and how easy forgiveness is when you know that everyone will get to go through it. It's easy to forgive when you know they asked for forgiveness with a pure heart, and knowing that if their heart wasn't pure, it was up to God. What mattered at that moment was the purity of my heart.


Sunshine came out a few times and complained that she was sick. I went through so many feelings, but late last night when I finally felt somewhat normal, I realized that having enough love in my heart for everyone, and forgiving them was important. Even more important, I need to forgive myself. Think globally. That was the message I got from my inquisition.


On a more practical note, I learned that I need to only eat predictable things.