Been A While

I have so MANY partially written things from the last month or two. It's not funny.

Shilo and myself finally hit a wall in late June-early July and it wasn't pretty. I knew about the activity he was engaging in, and I was okay with it at first, but as it progressed, it became a problem in our marriage. I was more and more unhappy, and I felt like he was cheating on me. I know that some people wouldn't understand cheating in polyamory, but it exists.

WHAT IS CHEATING IN POLYAMORY?

Everyone runs their polyamory differently, and for us, it includes lying about a relationship, hiding information from each other, or doing something we agreed not to do. EXAMPLE: I see Master "B" and we fuck like bunnies.and I say nothing about it to Shilo. Engaging in intercourse with him is permitted, we agreed it was okay, but I am required to inform Shilo about it as soon as it is possible. Hiding that information is cheating OR I meet someone, and there's instant attraction so We go someplace and have sex.  I'm not supposed to have sex with anyone without them first meeting Stitch and Shilo and getting their approval to date. Then I need their permission to have sex. Or, in Shilo's case, he has to talk to me about his feelings regarding a woman, and she has to meet me and follow our other rules.  Consider this the TL;DR version.

 Anyway, Shilo did several things that counts as cheating, and while he confessed to some things, he hid others, and I discovered them on my own. I was furious, but I was really more disappointed than anything. I actually considered leaving, but I realized that wasn't the answer. I'm still here. He's still here, and we're working on things. I can now look at his messages, emails, and phone whenever I want. I don't shove it in his face, and he is quick to tell anyone who messages him that I am reading along. And no, I'm not constantly looking, but I DO look, and I'm shocked at the amount of women who want him to sneak and hide things from me.

Shilo's cheating was a shock to my system and a wake-up call as far as our relationship goes. We're healing, but it's slow, and there are occasional arguments and my emotions can be all over the place.  I went out with the woman who was my Maid of Honor when I married Shilo, and we talked about it. I don't have many female friends, and of the few I do have, not all of them know about my polyamory. This is an embarrassment to me, so the less my people know about it, the better.

Keep in mind that while I'm retired, I still have responsibilities and things I do, including taking care of my older sister. She has advancing dementia and also had lung cancer surgery in February 2020. Since COVID hit, I've been buying her groceries and checking in on her every other day or so. It works for us, and I don't mind helping her out. After all, she is family, and being her caregiver is something that I take seriously.

So, the last week of July, it was HOT and while I kept in contact with her, I last visited her on Sunday (7-25) and called her on Monday and Tuesday, because I was feeling sick, and when I feel that way, I avoid face to face visits.  When Thursday (7-29) came along, I had an uneasy feeling, so I decided to make an unannounced visit to check on her.  

When I got to her apartment at 2:30PM, I found her passed out on the floor with her right leg bruised from the knee up. She had obviously urinated on herself as well, but while it wasn't completely unexpected (older women who live alone will frequently fall) it was still a shock to the system. It took me forever to dial 911 because I kept hitting the wrong buttons. The paramedics took her to the one ER that I feel is the worst in the area (Hospital and care is excellent, ER sucks because of the area) and it has a tiny waiting room. My niece arrived over an hour later because she lives near West LA, and my sister was just talking nonsense. She fractured her hip in several places, but there was no head injury.

The nurse who was assigned to her sent us home about 11, because they hadn't gotten the transfer papers from the hospital where my sister is insured. Instead, I received a call from the hospital at 6:30AM Friday (7-39) saying that she had been transferred to a hospital 40 miles away! I packed my clothes and stayed with my niece until Monday (8-2)  My sister was placed in a local SNF (Skilled Nursing Facility) late Wednesday (8-4) night, and they have restricted visitation (30 minutes max) due to COVID, and it's by appointment only.  I'm taking a break until Wednesday (8-11) because I am physically and mentally exhausted.

Anyway, That's what is going on, and that's where I've been.

 

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 .

Pay No Attention To The Men Behind The Curtain!

I'm considering "considering" a submissive. I've decided to take this slowly and see if he's really up to serving me, and I have no desire to rush things. He's recently divorced, and sometimes I feel as if he wants romance. Romance can be nice, but it's not what I want right now. I've spoken in a very straightforward way about this. I'm not fond of breaking hearts, so I have been honest to a fault. He's even met Shilo, and is completely aware of what he's getting into. Still, I am taking this painfully slow.

Strangely enough, my boyfriend is dating someone new, a polyamorous female submissive, and things are progressing well. I'm looking forward to meeting her, and I plan on working hard to not make comparisons. I'm glad he's seeing someone, because he actually seems happy, and I recall how unhappy he was just a few months ago.

Then, over the weekend, I received an email from someone who knows me well enough to call me "Mistress Merry" and he made references to Stitch and Shilo as well. It was slightly unnerving, because I didn't recognize the name, so I explained that I didn't recognize his name. Fortunately, he gave me his middle name and I remembered him.  It was actually someone that liked both Shilo and myself, and was interested in serving a couple, and liked the idea of being part of a "harem"  (his words, not mine) I'm actually thinking of taking him up on his offer and putting him to work around the house. I could use an escort/driver to weekday evening activities, and he would be perfect. Maybe I can start  doing fun weekday stuff after all...

So yeah, there are men behind the curtain, but for now, pay no attention.

I'm On The Hunt

The natives are restless, I'm restless, can't sleep. Longing, desiring, wanting something, someone who can feed my inner hunger.

WAIT! I hear you yell. “Aren't you satisfied, happy with what you have?” I stop to consider the question.

My reply:

I'm very happy, but they deserve a rest sometimes, and I'm capable of so much more, and I want to share what I have. I want to paddle someone's ass to a pink perfection while Shilo observes contentedly, and Stitch fetches water for me. I want to feel the raw energy of someone enraptured with my eyes and attentiveness. I want to feel a body drenched with satisfaction and endorphins caused by my actions. I need to feel useful.

I've spent 6 months in a shell, in survival mode because of things going on in my Family and Household. I'm like an animal that has spent time in hibernation and has awakened, hungry and desiring what I've gone so long without. I've crawled through a long dark tunnel, and I can feel the
warmth of the sun, and I smell flowers and promises in the wind. I hear water, a brook, perhaps? rushing nearby. I'm ready for it!

Like a Warrior in a time of Peace, I know that this moment isn't promised forever. I want to celebrate the victory while I can, because I know all too well that it can be a fleeting thing, and I want to feel refreshed for when the enemy attacks, but I hold on to the hope that it won't happen.

Times like now when all is well with my world is what keeps me going when I'm in the trenches, when I am hibernating, when I am barely surviving. It gives me something to look back on, something to look forward to.

I've thinned out and my eyes are a bit hollow as a result of what I've been through, but I am still strong, and I want to share, so please allow me to hunt, to share, to laugh, and celebrate. And, if you are desirous of my offerings, come to me, and I will share. Isn't that what Community is all about?

Threats and Promises

I'm currently locked out of Fetlife due to a clerical error. Whenever I do get back on, I'll probably post this there. In the meantime, if you are easily disturbed by violence, etc, I ask that you refrain from reading this, or read it at your own risk.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Threats and Promises can be either good or bad.  There are occasionally good threats and bad promises. It all depends on the point of view of the recipient.  As for me, I won't make a promise I can't or won't keep. Still, I often do things I say I'll do without the words "I promise."  I'm in need of an emotional dump, and right now (9:45PM PDT on Sunday, April 10, 2016) I'm not sure how this will all end, my jumbled thoughts dropped out of my head and onto the computer, nor am I sure how long it will take for me to put it all down, because I mostly type with one or two fingers.

I don't need to put this down, but my defensive side forces me to: Yes, I was sexually abused as a young girl, yes, I've been assaulted numerous times, including in an abusive marriage that lasted nearly 13 years, and I've been raped more than once, with the last one being so traumatic that I have "shut down" several times since then. (July 2004) Still, this has nothing to do with my sexual preferences/practices or my involvement in BDSM. I don't see myself as a victim, I see myself as a survivor. Still, the memories will sometimes make me cry.  I have PTSD. I have "triggers" that affect me. Some I'm aware of, others that take me by surprise.  This doesn't make me weak, nor do I want or need anyone's sympathy. Acceptance is fine. I'm not fragile. Time has taught me that I can make it through the pain.  I'm picky about the Ones I go to when I need to be held and comforted. They know who They are.

'Deadbeat' (the father of my children, and the man I stayed married to for 13 years) never threatened or promised. Instead, it would often come swiftly and unexpectedly.  It took me nearly a year after I left him to feel safe enough to tie my shoes unless I locked myself alone in a room.  I would rather trip over loose shoelaces than dare to put my head down long enough to retie them. It wasn't the fault of my children that I was often beaten for their actions.  I always thought 'better me than them' but sometimes, they would be beaten as well. Two months before I left for good, he gave me a black eye just before I got into the car to visit my family. I had told them many times over the years that I was in danger, but I think the black eye finally got their attention. I can't begin to count how many times I was told "Try and work things out, give it time." Sometimes, it's just not enough. Sometimes, nothing is good enough. Sometimes, you need to realize your own value and walk away.

I don't recall every instance, but my sexual desire was nonexistent, so Deadbeat would often take me in my sleep, and then wake me up and hand me a towel to clean up. I was a member of a very conservative church, and I was told by the Pastor that it was my "duty" to give him (Deadbeat) sex whenever he wanted or he might find someone else.  Looking back, I think it's funny. After I left, I found out Deadbeat cheated on me numerous times, and then accused me of cheating and beat me.

In spite of all that, I remained trusting of others, and I discovered that most people were good. I became fearless, and even though I often had night terrors that would make me wake up screaming, I did okay.  Once, when I was living on a boat moored off of Catalina Island with my boyfriend at the time, my screams caused the Harbor Patrol to pound on the doors because someone thought I was in danger. When they saw that I was physically okay, and was told that I had night terrors, they noted it, and we were no longer disturbed by them.

My boys would sometimes have friends over, and my screams would wake them. I used to apologize for frightening them in the morning, but it eventually got to the point that all their friends knew that my screams were 'normal' for me. Now that they're a distant (bad) memory, I ask myself how anyone could consider it normal. I will sometimes wake up scared by something in my dreams, but nothing like it used to be.

My ability to easily trust others was taken away when I was raped in July 2004. Nearly twelve years later, and I still take my time in inviting others into my life. I might have hundreds of Facebook friends, but it's a very few people that I call "friend." There are people who have known me for years and they only know my nickname. Since my home is my Sanctuary, I rarely have people over anyway. "It's not you, it's me" applies in this case.

Looking at the clock, and other than two five minute breaks, I've been at this for 90 minutes.  I'm still not finished, but where I am now isn't exactly where I thought I was going. I still need to get to the place I was heading, and I will get there in time.

I've covered Threats and Promises from others and I barely touched on mine, which is where I really wanted to go. Thank you for being brave and patient enough to get to this point. I wish I could promise you it will be worth your time, but I can't.  That decision is yours.

I love many people, some know it, some suspect it, and others have no idea just how deeply I love them. There are only two people who I am "In Love" with, and they are Stitch and Shilo. I've Loved Stitch longer, but that does not mean my Love for Shilo is less, nor does it mean my Love for Stitch has diminished. Love is not divisible, it is something that can only be multiplied.

Love is perfect, but it doesn't mean that my relationships are perfect and painless. I could only wish for that. In this case, the pain and imperfections in my relationships remind me that I am alive. Like the waves of an EKG, it has it's ups and downs. "Happily ever after" is a fairy tale. My life is not a fairy tale.

I'll tell you that life is often ugly and scary, and sometimes you think you've reached the top of a hill only to discover that there's HUGE mountains ahead. It's not easy.  It's a fact. This isn't a complaint. Nobody likes a complainer, but nearly everyone likes likes the truth, even if it's ugly.

Stitch isn't as healthy and strong as he used to be. He's often tired and surly, Choosing to argue instead of trying to understand.  He often pushes thruogh at the expense of our relationship. I've told him I'd rather have cuddle time than a clean yard, but because Shilo has had his own health issues, Stitch feels it's his 'duty' to take care of things.

Stressors will often cause me to have digestive issues, and, combined with my medications, my stomach is frequently tied up in knots. My SAD is at its worst in April, so the uphill battle is often lost by me.  It's easier to give in and quit than lose and be unsuccessful in whatever I want to do.

Then there's Shilo. Where Stitch is able to use his verbal skills and express himself, Shilo is often silent. Fortunately, he keeps an online journal for me. He hasn't always been completely truthful in them, especially when it comes to things that he's afraid I'll be disappointed in him about, (Smoking comes to mind) but it's still a useful tool. Shilo will often guard things and hide them instead of being vulnerable with me. I've come to accept that it's just how he is.I'm not sure if he realizes the pain I occasionally get from that part of him, but, just like him. I often guard that part of me.

I'm not going to hold back. It's past midnight now, and a new day (Monday) and I need to get it out. This is something I've held close, but it's been to the detriment of my relationship with Shilo. We've both been through so much with each other. and I admit, I've gotten 'soft' when it comes to him.  The 'soft' has nothing to do with my Love for him, it's mostly had to do with me wanting to avoid long periods of silence (our way of "arguing") and because I've felt like crap. The past few weeks Shilo has been very confrontational and critical (unlike him) and instead of rising up against him (which is something I'll often do with Stitch) I just back down quietly and stew in my own juices. This won't continue much longer. Shilo knows I won't allow myself to react in anger, and I often choose to take a "cooling off" period before dealing with things.  This "backing down" isn't "cooling off" it's me retreating in my emotional cave.

If you'll go back up to paragraph 5 (6?) I made mention of my my former Pastor telling me about my duties and warning me of possible consequences that might occur if I shirked them. I only mentioned the sexual there, but there were other warnings as well. What was unknown then (but known now) is that I have bouts of severe depression. Depression doesn't always manifest as sadness. It has many facets. So here I am again, only in the other seat. No threats, promises, warnings, or guarantees. Only an observation: The reaction is retreating and depression, but one day, there will be action. I have no idea what the action will be. I know what I desire. Love is perfect, and I keep my Promises. I guess the last two sentences about covers it.

This took 3 hours from start to finish. Maybe this is my action, or maybe it will inspire positive action in others. Bedtime!

New Year, New ME?

Not really... I'm still me, and still recovering from my accident of Friday, November 13th. Ribs still hurt, and trying to get comfortable in bed is a bitch.

My son Jonathan is feeling/doing better, thanks to the Team at City of Hope Hospital. It's a long process, but I trust it will work.

Again, for the God-knows-how-many years in a row, I've purposely avoided making resolutions, simply because they usually wind up disappointing me, but I have decided that it's time for me to make an effort to mend fences and/or rebuild bridges. Dealing with the possibility of Jon's imminent death reminded me that even though I might not get along with a family member, they're still my family, and we all want(ed) Jonathan to get better.  We shared the same goal, so perhaps putting aside our differences would be a good thing. My Mom has been dead for three years now, and she was the glue that held us together.  Maybe it's time for us to try to get along and have a little face time. I'm sure it would make life a little better, especially if we approached it from  the outlook that we share a common goal. It's just an idea in my head that I've vocalized only a few times in the past 18 days. There are other people who aren't family, but it's all in the thinking phase.

In other news, I weighed in on Friday (1-15) at 204 pounds! It's been a long time since I weighed so little, but I'm hoping that losing weight is a trend that will continue. No real diet, no real effort on my part, just a switch to my eating schedule. I've reduced my snacks and absent-mindedly eating. I stop when I'm satisfied, and let Donna (the pit bull) eat what's left. Yes, I still eat junk food on occasion, but I rarely desire it.

My Psychiatrist/Therapist told me a few months ago that he was retiring at the end of January, which was a huge shock to me. I had no idea he was so close to 65. I honestly thought he was close to, or just barely 50, but it's not like I asked him. My final appointment was on the aforementioned date. I didn't spend long with him on Friday, but I did tell him that I'd miss him. I've opened up more with him than I did with anyone else, so it's a huge loss for me. I really dislike change, and seeing someone new causes me LOTS of discomfort and anxiety, but I've met my new (to me) Psychiatrist/Therapist before at an activity, so I'm hoping it will go smoothly. I guess as long as she follows my two guidelines (1. I only call in a real emergency, so please take it seriously and return the call immediately, and 2. Don't fuck with my medication) and doesn't judge my lifestyle choices, we'll get along just fine.

Shilo is still recovering from his broken ankle, so I still do all the driving. I've adjusted my sleep cycle (another reason for the weight loss?) and I will admit, I feel better emotionally than I have in any other previous January in recent memory.

Stitch? Well Stitch is Stitch, only his hearing and memory loss is getting worse. Shilo occasionally jokes about Stitch forgetting the way home, but it seems to be an inevitable thing for him. I worry, but what can I do? I try my best to make sure he's happy, and I remind him of my Love for him as often as possible. His only child will be a first-time parent in March, and there was a baby shower this past weekend, Stitch is soo excited, and we had a nice time. His ex-wife was there, and thanks to our kids being friends for 20(!!!) years, we get along just fine. Honestly, I understand why they got divorced, and because I know his side, and can completely relate to her side, there's no animosity at all. Besides, our kids set us up, and I think they knew what they were doing. It's been nearly 12 years now, and while there have been adjustments and changes, we're all happy.

So, that's my update. Happy New Year!
♥
Merry

Something I Don't Talk About

I have a very violent past history that I usually choose to not share, simply because I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me or see me as being "fragile." The truth is, I have no need for those things. I am a survivor with PTSD that occasionally has very brief moments of light panic attacks that will occasionally turn into full-blown panic attacks. I have a wonderful support system, and, most times, I can get control long enough to remove myself from a situation. On the rare occasion it goes full-blown, I either get my "deer in the headlights" look, or I attack. If you know me, or spend time around me, I will remind you that I've warned you, and I cannot be held responsible for attacking when I feel threatened in the midst of a panic attack. My advice: Don't do it!

Unfortunately, it's not always that simple. The 4th of July, fireworks shows, and sex in a dark room are all triggers when it comes to my rape that occurred in 2004. There is also a smell, I don't normally mention that to anyone, except for those closest to me. He smoked a certain brand of cheap cigar that has a distinct odor to it. Let me mention here that I have an unusually good sense of smell. Even the faintest scent of this particular cigar brand will set off my panic receptors. I can and will react in an unpredictable manner. Fortunately, the people I spend time with prefer more expensive cigars, so it's not an issue.


On Thursday, I took my oldest to the DMV, and, like always, there was a line snaking outside the building. I don't mind standing outside, so I talked to him as we waited, and then it assaulted my senses. A cigar, that cigar, and it was somewhere close behind me. First I said it's name, and tried to stay calm. I mean, I'm in line outside the DMV with my 6 foot tall 31 y/o son who is strong enough to fight off anyone, and there's a security guard 50 feet away. I'm safe. But the smell only got stronger. I had to turn around and look. The funny thing is that the young man smiled at me when I turned around like he knew what I was searching for. I plastered on my biggest smile, and asked (like I didn't already know) "Is that a (name?)" He smiled again, and said 'yeah'. That was enough. I told my oldest I had to get something from the car, and hid in there for 15 minutes until my heartbeat and breathing went back to normal. When I returned, my oldest was close to the door, so I told him I'd wait inside.


I feel I handled it well. My oldest was clueless, and I didn't react, but it leaves me wondering if I'll always do that well under pressure. Is this a sign of things to come, or will I act unpredictably the next time? Maybe it's best not to worry about it. I fight my PTSD daily, and I cannot change my past, but I can learn how to get a better handle on things. I just keep telling myself that the danger is gone and I'm safe. It's all I can do.

From The Heart

The following is an email I sent to my FIL today. I'm sharing it here because we so often forget about our parents and children as we get older. The names were changed to protect the guilty. 

Dear Dad,
I know the past few months have been so difficult for you, and if it was in my power, I'd remove the pain that both you and Shilo have gone through. I cannot begin to imagine what you've been through, because, while I've been through significant losses myself, I don't live in your mind, and since we all experience pain differently, I cannot say that I know how YOU feel, but I will say I've had similar circumstances in my life.

One thing is evident, and that is the Love you have for Mom. I saw it in your eyes when we all met the very first time, I heard it in your voice when you spoke to her, and your emails showed me all the more how strong your Love is. I speak in the present term, because Love never dies. Love continues on, even after we are no longer on Earth.

I feel blessed to have met both of you, and I recall telling Shilo how fortunate he was to have both his parents. How, even though he might go months without seeing you that he spoke to you as often as possible, sharing his life with the both of you. Very early in our marriage, when we came for Shilo's birthday, Mom took me out back in the garden and talked to me about many things, but what stuck with me were the words, "Merry, take very good care of Shilo. He's the only son we have left," I promised her I would, and I have. Shilo stopped smoking, and together, we're dealing with his health issues. Ask anyone who knows us, and they will tell you of the Love and concern we have for each other.
Well, those words Mom told me has stuck with me over the difficult year that Shilo has had health-wise, but it all came rushing to me when you called Shilo last week to tell him of Mom's death. As we held each other and cried, Mom's words suddenly had a new meaning. She was also reminding me that she was the only Mother Shilo has, and you're the only Father Shilo has. Yes, I know what it's like to lose your parents, and I understand his pain, although I don't know how he feels, because I'm not him. All I know is that I promised to be by his side, no matter what, and by going with him, I did what I promised, and, more importantly, I know it was what Mom would have expected of me.

I hope I wasn't an inconvenience to you. I did my very best to stay out of the way. I Love Shilo so very much, and I will keep my promises to him, and also to Mom. I know Shilo is different in many ways, and that's why I Love him so very much. He doesn't follow someone else's path, he makes his own. He's not like other men. He has a tenderness and gentleness that I've never seen before. He has strong opinions, much like you do, although they might sometimes be the opposite of yours, he gets that attribute from you. I see you in him, and I wonder if you do too. He Loves you so very much, but he doesn't know how to show it, and the words are so easy to say.

Shilo doesn't know about this email, He's asleep, but I promise you, I will take good care of him as much as I'm able to, because he's the only son you have, and I'm asking you to take good care of yourself, because you're the only Father he has. Both of you are suffering so much right now, but please don't fall in so deep that you forget each other.

Love,
Merry

Shilo

This is written to give him a "heads up," but I'm sure that it might be entertaining for others as well...

Over the past few days, Shilo and I have been discussing BDSM structures, Female Led Domestic Discipline, Relationships, polyamory, and whole bunch of other things. All of them are heavy-duty, and they all relate directly to us, our marriage, our relationship, and our Household. Some things, Shilo has even dared to write in his journal, and a few of his opinions expressed are quite controversial. Still, those are his opinions, and he's allowed to express them. I know he wrote some things to elicit a response from me, and instead, I chose not to respond to those remarks. He wrote some things he feels about our relationship and how he views them. How a person views something and how they are can be two different things. I'm neither agreeing or disagreeing with those things at this point. I'm just putting it out there that I read it and took it all in.

So, what does this really mean? It means that I may or may not agree with his stated opinions, depending on what they are. What he wrote about his views on our relationship has some similarities to how it is for us as I see it, but, again, not all. I will say that his health issues have caused a 'shift' in our relationship, and if you add the fiasco about Sherman to it, you can say that the past 13 or so months have had a HUGE effect on where we are now at this moment. While there have been negative effects, there also have been positive, and the positive outweighs the negative. We're exploring, and with our explorations, we've learned new truths about ourselves and each other. We've broken down much of the "smoke and mirrors" and see some things clearly. Both of us have become strengthened and hurt by these revelations.

What's important to know is that at the end of the day, this all relates to us. My relationship with Shilo. It has  almost no effect on how I am with others. the give and take part is different, but it doesn't make me any less Merry, and it doesn't make him any less Shilo. How we relate and react to each other, not the outside world.

So is there "smoke and mirrors" to others? Do we hide behind a veil? I think all couples do. I mean, how or why we do things isn't always for public consumption. The important thing for you to know is that the spankings and discipline are very real. I am turning his ass that lovely color. The corner time is real. I really do make him sing "Twinkle, twinkle little bat."  My laughter is real. I enjoy all this. I am a Sadist, he is a masochist. We enjoy each other. We Love each other. The chastity is real. He does wear those devices for up to a week or more. The devotion we have to each other is real.

Will I address these things further? Will I give a heartfelt response with my feeling bared for all to see? That's yet to be determined.... But for now...

I heard you Shilo.  I Love you Shilo.

Please allow me the time to take it all in.

Merry

It's Over...

Yes, it's all over, and, for the first time in a long time, I can breathe a sigh of relief, and not look over my back. 

In the middle of November last year, my sister and myself applied for co-conservatorship of Danny (AKA: Child #4) Because his father (My ex-husband AKA: Deadbeat) was trying to make it difficult for us to handle Danny's medical needs, going so far as to take her off of Danny's record as a contact and telling his neurologist conflicting information.

The piles of paperwork and repeated monthly court dates are over. Deadbeat was told at the last court date by the judge that he could not block it verbally anymore, and that he would have to fill out court papers and file it along with proof that we were unsuitable. Oh, believe me when I say that he managed to smear my name in the mud, filling the ears of anyone who would listen about my lies, laziness and neglect, and my mental health problems. What wasn't outright lies was such an exaggeration of the truth, that it necessitated me submitting copies of every court document, including police reports and a letter from my therapist stating my fitness and ability to handle Danny.

Thank God he knows nothing of my kinks or lifestyle! Oh, nevermind! He mentioned my sister's porn business too. To have our private lives opened like that was unnecessary. The mental and emotional scarring was re-opened. Also, during those 7 months of fighting, Danny was hospitalized 3 times, with a total of 15 days in the hospital. There's a reason I call his father 'Deadbeat.' Not once in all those times did he visit or contribute to hospital or medication/treatment costs. My credit is ruined, and the bills for Danny keeps rising. I will just briefly mention his lack of child support here.

Well, Deadbeat is living proof of my prior stupidity and prior decisions. But let's not dwell on the horrible past. It's not edifying and it causes me much pain. Besides, I can rejoice that this is over, and that's the important part!

Apparently, after that last court date, Deadbeat got all the paperwork and found out the filing fees and decided that he didn't have the time, patience, or money to object. He called last week to inform me that he had a change of heart. My youngest child told my sister that his dad tried to get him and his other brothers to testify against me. Even our oldest child (who all but called me a whore in my own home 2 Christmases ago) wouldn't do it, and Deadbeat realized he was fighting a losing battle.

I'm not perfect, and I'm certainly no angel, but I raised my boys the best I could with no help and was a good example for them. I guess in spite of everything, I raised them right.

So, it's over. I can finally breathe knowing that as Danny's medical and mental condition declines, my sister and I can do whatever we can to keep him happy and comfortable with no interference from his father.

Tension

It's not necessarily a bad thing. Think of sexual tension and the warm ache you get from it.Think of the tension of waiting for a good thing to happen. The tingle of anticipation, the longing ache you get from waiting, and the inevitable pleasure you get when the time is right. The precious release that is so desired. The past few days, when other things aren't in my thoughts, that's where I am. That place between pleasure and pressure, waiting for release. Wanting it now, but with the knowledge that anything worth having is worth waiting for. That delicious ecstasy that awaits me.

BUT:

I've grown up a bit, and I know there's a difference between fantasy and reality, and, yes, I've had more than my share of experiences where the reality far surpassed any fantasy in my head. Yes, I've been severely disappointed, but not that much. I also know that time and practice only makes for increasingly better experiences. I secretly hate my high hopes right now, mostly out of a fear of failure. Yeah, I hate that "F" word. Failure. A thing that is unsuccessful or disappointing. ::Deep breath:: The good thing is that that particular fear only lasts an instant. Pinning my hopes and dreams on an idea. Waiting on a pleasurable idea to come to fruition. Knowing that that particular feeling is shared with the other party makes it a little better.

Spike: I thought he was lost and long gone. Out of reach, out of sight but always on my mind. Spike, formerly known as _______, returning to me.  A thought I never entertained I could laugh at the reversal of fortune, but most people wouldn't get it. The events that brought this to me are just weird.

Counting, counting. counting... and Bedtime is upon me. Sleeping, dreaming, and hoping for the best!

January Already???!!!

Here it is... January already! Think of this as an update on my life and Household.

My last post (on December 7th) was the day before I wrote a note to all members of the Household about some things that had me bothered, along with suggestions to make things better/easier for myself and the rest of the Household. I'm happy to say that there have been some improvements, but, in a few cases, it's been a case of "too little, too late." It got so bad, that I wrote another letter to the Household on New Year's Day and told Sherman that he has until February 19th to either have a job and pay towards Household expenses or move out. I think the majority of us would prefer a move out at this point.

My son Babyman AKA Child #4 has been having increased health issues, so he's been staying at the house with me. I now consider him a part-time member of the Household. Yes, this means that most activities previously allowed are now forbidden on a regular basis, but it's for the best in the long run. My child needs me. Also, we see the Neurology Specialist tomorrow to discuss the results of his MRI he had last month, and the options available. Kind of scary, but we need to do what's best for him and his health.

Finally, lets discuss Polyamory a little bit: Yes, I'm polyamorous, and I have three men living with me and two of them are my sexual partners. People seem to think I have and get sex on a frequent basis, and that simply isn't the case. For the record, the last time I engaged in intercourse with anyone that I recall was sometime in November. If I did it in December, I have no memory of it. I'm sure Shilo will remind me in the comments if we did. I know for a fact that Stitch hasn't. I'm not "complaining" just stating facts. Sherman went so far as to tell me if he wasn't mono he'd "give me some" but my #1 thought was "ICK!!!" Yeah, so now the truth about poly is out. Will I "get some" in January? The jury is still deciding on that.

I'll try to update a little more often.

One Week

One week ago on early Friday afternoon, I had Shilo lock up in a chastity device, and I left on a weekend business trip for the Senior Church ladies. Shilo is still locked up, and, as I like to tease him, there's no end in sight.

Yes, I'm depriving myself of intercourse as well. It's a choice, because I know Stitch will happily accommodate me. Let's just say I'm not really in the mood right now for anyone but Shilo, and since I have him locked up, I'll just be doing without for a while longer. It will make the eventual ending all the more pleasurable.

Looking back, I honestly had no idea how Loving and passionate Shilo would be. It was the furthest thing from my thoughts, and I laugh at how naive we both were. He was convinced he was asexual, I was convinced he was asexual, and sex with him really wasn't on my radar with him. Our shared fetish for chastity was all the proof I needed that we would never cross that line. Falling in Love wasn't even on my radar, but the more time we spent with each other, the more I realized that I was in Love with him, and the more he realized he was in Love with me. The more Love I felt for him, the stronger my passion grew, and his grew as well.

Those early days were full of more sex than I could calculate, but I'm sure he's kept count somewhere. Somewhere around 3 weeks into our sexual relationship, I brought up the subject of locking him in chastity. I was a little surprised at his negative reaction, but common sense won out, and he acquiesced. It seems he needed reassurance that I wanted him(!) Yes, I found that surprising, because I thought I had made it abundantly clear to him.

I'm glad that nowadays we've worked it out that he knows I won't deprive him for long, but, other than my trip to Springfield, IL in May, I think it's been a long time since he's been locked up for more than a week. I mean, yes, we've gone more than a week without intercourse for various reasons, but locking him wasn't involved. I'm also pretty sure he could give dates, times etc; but I'll leave it up to his discretion as to whether or not he puts it here.

He's asleep right now. He's been asleep since we arrived home at 5:15 after running errands all day and paying bills. I had hoped we could film tonight and then I could unlock him (I'm really horny) but I guess it'll have to wait. Still wondering if I'll feel like this later/tomorrow. I'm not likely to unlock him unless I want sex and it's practical, simply because he'll have to shower after removing the device because of my metal allergy before we even consider sex. GRRRRR!!!

Looks like masturbation is in my future... LOL I'm just too tired to go through the hassle of trying for sex with Shilo. Goodnight!

Of Interest

http://wannabespankee.tumblr.com/post/33971933681/oneyear

I honestly cannot comment without giggling for oh-so-many reasons, most of which have nothing to do with me.

Sex, Discipline, and Heat

It has been a warm fall. No, let's try it again. It's been a fucking hot fall. As in, it's been about 90 outside. As for the inside? It was a high of 94 inside, with the fans running. It makes me wish I had asked about air conditioning. Still, I love this house, and the lack of A/C doesn't make me love it any less. Honestly, I wouldn't mind the hot weather, except for the fact that it interferes with my sex life and makes discipline damned near impossible.

Face it, nobody wants to be next to someone else when they're hot and sweaty. I don't like being sweaty sticky next to someone else. Honestly, all I want to do is spend the day in a cool shower. This is doubly difficult on Shilo because he works grave shift, and sleeps during the day. I almost miss the days before we got married, when I'd stay with him in his air conditioned bedroom. Sex and discipline was fun. Now, in this heat, it's a burden.

I just want a cool place to sit so I can stop sweating. My energy level is down to zero. Yes, I realize that winter will come eventually, and I'll be missing warm weather, but this weather now? Hardly!

Let's hope for things to cool down to the 70's so I can get sex, and start disciplining Shilo again on a regular basis.

Thirst (9-28-14)

Introduction

A long time ago (It seems like forever now) in the early 90's when the doctors were just scratching at the surface of my medical issues, I was prescribed a medication. This was before the PTSD, before the rise of Sunshine, after I graduated from college with my psychiatric nursing degree, and when I was the young (32 years old) mother of 5 rambunctious boys. The "bad" times with deadbeat were just beginning. I was clueless to the hell that awaited me. I was full of Hope and Positivity and Unafraid. My dear beloved doctor prescribed a medication (I remember the name of it, but it doesn't matter now) that was one of many medications that causes polydipsia. The word polydipsia looks nice, up on the screen, doesn't it? Until you know what it is: Polydipsia is the medical term for excessive thirst. I could drink 2 liters of water during my lunch break, and 20 minutes later, all I desired was more water, fruit juice, soda, you name it... I was powerless over the overwhelming desire to intake as much fluid as possible. The fact that it was a hot summer didn't help much either. The house I lived in had no air conditioning, just a tiny swamp cooler. It's been nearly 18 years since I stopped taking that medication, but the memory of that thirst lingers. 

NOW

You remind me of that thirst, that never quenched desire to feel satiated, but never quite getting there. I'm always wanting more of you, never feeling like I've had enough. It started with that first hug. No, that's a lie. It started that first time I saw you sitting across the room from me. I was preoccupied, true, but something about your face, or maybe it was your body. No! It was your soul! Your soul called out to mine, in that dark, noise-filled, crowded room. I looked at you many times that first night, and every time I looked up and away from my project, I saw you. Watching, seeking... sitting there in stony silence. Calling me. Like a silent scream, one could not hear it, but could feel it in their bones.

The more I learned about you, the unknown man, the more I thought to myself, "No, no, NO! This will NOT work! It cannot work! It is impossible!" But Fate does not know the word "Impossible," You can be dragged, kicking and screaming and denying, while Fate says simply "Yes. Yes, this will work. This will be." And it is! It was that way with you. I was alternately compelled and repulsed. Compelled, because you silently called out to me. Repulsed, because of the knowledge I had of you, of your habits, I saw your home weeks before I ever entered, I knew what to expect, and, yet, in spite of all I knew, all I saw, I fought the feelings of no, and accepted Fate's yes.

That first hug, a few weeks after the first time your soul cried out to me, sealed it. You smelled of sweetness, of candy, of strongly brewed coffee. All the things I liked, all the things I loved. How could I possibly refuse you? Six weeks later, you were bent over, nearly naked, laying over a spanking bench as I repeatedly used my heaviest paddle on your ivory skin. You were silent, but your body language, the wiggling and pressing up against me, made me realize that, yes, you were what I desired. You were what I thirsted for. Even as I broke my finger, and explained what happened, your laugh was rich and full, and as I got closer, the smell of sweetness, candy, and strongly brewed coffee was there. Why I fought it, I don't know. Two weeks later, in your home, which was exactly what I saw in my mind's eye, I still thirsted for you. Yes, there was fear and apprehension, like the fear we all get when doing something new, but I knew you would never hurt me.

Two weeks after that, as the thirst became more than I could resist, we both realized it was no longer in our hands. I had the overwhelming thirst, the overwhelming desire that only you could quench, and, yet, the more I got, the more I wanted. Being that vulnerable was new to me. Never realizing that it was to become an obsession on your part as well only increased the effect. The thirst was out of control, much like the thirst in my introduction.

At times, I feel like nobody could possibly comprehend it, because, even though it is here and now, it is an unbelievable story we are living. One that, if told to either of us as recently as 20 months ago, both of us would have been incredulous and denying it, as if it were a fairytale. Who knew that a thirst could be so strong and overpowering?

I'm open and vulnerable with my thirst, and you have learned that only you can begin to quench it. It's not such a bad thing, is it? Unlike the thirst in the introduction, this is not so miserable. It makes sense. There is no denial of my desires, of my needs, and you have your desires met as well. All is good. And you still smell of candy and sweetness. Last night only confirmed it. I'm so glad my thirst is for you, and I neither hide or deny it. Knowing you understand and believe makes it so much sweeter.

One Year Ago Part 2

So, I had confessed my Love to my slave Shilo. He had confessed his Love to me. We both wanted to engage in sex, but I had to obtain clearance, per my agreement with Stitch. I hadn't slept much, and I needed to drive him to work at the ungodly hour of 6, and I had gone to bed at 5. Admittedly, it wasn't my smartest move, but all I had wanted to do was be with Shilo, and, it seemed, Shilo wanted to be with me as well.

So I drove Stitch the 25 miles to work and said nothing. I drove the 25 miles back to Huntington Beach with a heavy heart because I knew I couldn’t not
say anything. It’s just that I didn’t know what to say. This was breaking all the rules I had for submissives/slaves, and even though I had fallen in Love with my collared submissive, I had never crossed into the realm of sex. Yes, I had obtained permission 15 months earlier, but it never actually happened. It isn’t that we didn’t want to, it was more that circumstances prevented us from doing so, and, at that point, our relationship was rapidly falling into ruins. I also knew that I'd be getting an 11AM call from the aforementioned submissive, and, because of our relationship rules, I'd have to discuss it with him as well.

When I got home from the drive, it was 8:30, and I could barely drag my body into bed. I woke up, on instinct, at 10:58, and I waited... and waited... my heartbeat getting ever faster with dread. I wanted Shilo, but I hated the idea of discussing it with others, of having to ask like I was a child, yet, this had been my doing, this asking, so I would stay out of trouble. Apparently, my collared submissive had overslept because the clock went past 11, past 11:15, and 11:30 and Stitch did his daily call at 11:30. I managed to get out that we needed to talk about an important matter on the way home from work, so at least he knew. I hung up the phone and waited. Finally, at noon, the phone rang, and it was the submissive. I explained the best I could, and he gave his blessings. He admitted surprise when I asked, because we were not even really attached at that point, but he understood when I explained. I laid down some more. I don't recall when I spoke to Shilo, but I told him to expect me in the morning. I knew that either way, something was going to happen, whether it was a long talk or sex, I just wasn't sure what. I know I took a nap before I left to get Stitch from work, and I remember being late because I slept too long.

As I finally drove up, Stitch was smiling, and all I could do was wonder how long that smile would last. I sighed, and unlocked the door, and he came in. Stitch is naturally bouncy and talkative, so getting him to quiet down is kind of hard. I finally reminded him that I needed to talk, and he quieted down as I explained what I was feeling, how Shilo felt, and our mutual desire for each other. I reassured him that I would never stop Loving him, and the could take time to think about it. He asked all kinds of questions, and I also reminded him that I could have just made the decision without him, and without his consent, but I felt that being honest was important. An hour after we arrived home, he told me he made his decision, and he told me he approved. 

The next day (a year from today) we began our journey. I think Shilo's version is the best, so you can find it at the link below:

 http://merryslavesdiary.blogspot.com/2013/07/july-2-c-15.html

Anyway, it was beautiful and sweet and gentle, and we've had more happy times than sad in the past year, and that's all that matters. 

I hope we have many more years of Loving each other.

Recent Occurrence

The chain of Shilo's collar broke right about the time things got crazy in our relationship almost two weeks ago. I told him not to worry about it, knowing that our BDSM relationship has gone out the window as of late, and, while our marriage is doing okay, he's not really been where he should be otherwise. He insisted on putting the tags on another chain, which somehow broke yesterday. The tags have gone missing. In the meantime, tomorrow is one year since the very first time we played together in a dungeon. It's pretty special.

About the collar: I'm upset at the poor quality of it, and I can guarantee I'll never buy anything wearable from there again. As for the disappearance, I feel that everything happens for a reason, and, while I truly Love Shilo, I don't feel he's been acting worthy of the collar. I know he will get momentarily upset by this, but then his cool logic will set in, and he will agree with my assessment. This brings me to something else: Do I feel that the BDSM aspect of our relationship is over? The short answer is "No." The long answer is "HELL NO!" because we both have that desire deep inside of us,  and to cut it out of our lives completely for any length of time would be foolish. I think of this time as a time of reflection, to regroup, and to renegotiate our BDSM relationship. In the meantime, I still have his play collar available if we decide to play. The 15th will mark the one year anniversary since our first contract, so maybe by then we will have made some decisions about what we will do, and where we are going.

In the meantime, I hope Shilo uses this time to think about his desires regarding the BDSM aspect of our relationship, and we can both use our "off time" to improve other aspects of our relationship that need some attention.

Why?

Why? is a frequently asked question in my household, especially by Shilo. He doesn't ask because he is obnoxious or obstinate, although he can be both. No, he asks because is naturally curious, and he feels that everything must have a logical reason. I work very hard to give him logical reasons for my actions and desires, but I occasionally fail. After all, I'm human.

Oh, there are other questions, of course, but I don't always feel up to answering them. Sometimes I avoid them by distraction or giving a non-answer, or even asking a question of my own. I feel justified in those reactions for many reasons. I mean, answering "Because I'm the Mistress" should be enough for anyone, especially Shilo. No, it doesn't "work" that way, but one could always hope.

Frequently asked questions (with standard answer)

1. Where are you going? (Out.)

2. What's for dinner? (Food.)

3. How is/was__________? (Fine.)

Yes, I realize that some of those answers are kind of snarky. I can't help it. I've got deep-seated reasons why I answer those questions that way, and I really don't feel like talking about it, especially at that moment.

Starting with question #3. I usually revert to that answer when I don't feel like discussing the event. It could be that it was horrible or rotten, and I'm not up to a long drawn out conversation. On the other hand, it could just be that it was fine.

Question #2 isn't as frequently asked as it used to be, but it goes back to a time when I had very little food, and/or I was unable to decide at that moment. Food, especially dinner, tends to be rather last-minute, so I often don't have an acceptable answer. By saying "Food" I've made it clear I don't want to discuss it, or I'm still deciding.

Now, question #1 is a "trigger" question. I was in an abusive relationship where my every move was watched, and I resented that question. I felt like I was distrusted, and that made me resentful of my former husband. After I finally left him, I enjoyed my freedom, but then my older sister moved in, and suddenly, all I ever heard was that question. I felt that if my mom knew, nobody else needed to know, especially not my older sister. The whole "Where are you going?" question was a thorn in my side. My theory is that I'm an adult and I can do what I want and go where I want. I realize this can cause problems, especially with Shilo,who is, more often than not, just curious or genuinely concerned about me.

Well, I hope this is helpful.

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.