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Dependent Emotions

April 3rd, 2007

And there's this strange dependency that I haven't had before. We've always been rather close. That goes without saying. And I've always missed Him when one of us goes to work. But yesterday, there was this devastating feeling of loss when I wasn't able to just babble to Him whenever I wanted to. The reality of what having this particular job means started to set in and it sort of blindsided me.


Master says I use this blog more like my journal than a blog
and thatâ??s why I have almost nothing to say by the time I get to my journal. I
canâ??t help it. The using the blog like a journal thing. I canâ??t help but hope
that one day some submissive who completely relates will read this and it will
start a dialogue that will lead to me having a sister. A real life sister to
share chores with and whispered secrets that arenâ??t really secrets and to
please Master with and to surprise Him with and to tease Him withâ?¦


The real reason I donâ??t have much to say in my journal is
that I have less time to write it. With my blog I can just type along at my own
pace, stop when Iâ??m not sure of the words to use, reread, go do something else,
and then come back when Iâ??ve found the right words. With my journal, I have to
try to squeeze it all out in the few minutes He spares me between when He tells
me to fix the bed and when He joins me in the bedroom. Thereâ??s no time for the
lengthy, completely off topic babble that I do in my blogs. No time to take a
moment and clear my head before re-approaching the expression of my thoughts
again. So by the time I get to my blog, I brain dump and hope it will make up,
at least a little bit, for the mindless blathering that I do in my journal.


And Iâ??ve got to stop catching up on other blogs I read (as
well as put the links on my page) before I finish working my own blog out in my
head. I get halfway through writing it, then go to kayaâ??s page or elodieâ??s page
or toyâ??s page and Iâ??d swear they just pulled everything out of my head and
slapped it up on their page. Then Iâ??m like â??Damn it! I was gonna write about
that. Now I canâ??t cause someone will think I copied!â?



In other news, Masterâ??s decided to return to the â??beat rayne
every nightâ? approach. It seems when Iâ??m being beat on a regular basis, my
tongue stops prattling off with things it shouldnâ??t say. Amazing, that.


And you know that whole â??Be careful what you wish for.â?
saying? Yeahâ?¦ add to that â??Be careful what you wish for in your journal.â? Though
I canâ??t for certain say that He read that particular entry, I can for certain
say that we were on the same wavelength for at least a minute. Except now, a
tiny part of me wishes it could hide that wavelength away where no one can find
it. Especially Master. The rest of me is extremely grateful for the connection.


A while back, I wrote a journal all about how much I hate my
flaws. In particular, the one I have that makes it next to impossible for me to
ask for what I know I need which goes hand in hand with the one that makes me
wish I could skip all the uncomfortable parts of training and zip straight into
â??perfect slave{TM}â?. In it, I mentioned wishing I had the courage to ask to be
beat every night again.


Remembering all the icky feelings I had at the time about
myself and about the discipline and sometimes about Master, I just was too
afraid to request to go through that again. I knew it greatly improved my
behavior. The desire to make sure there werenâ??t extra strokes with the cane kept
me mostly in line. But I felt such a mixture of emotions, not the least of them
being a little bit of depression.


Now, Iâ??m finding it difficult to put into words the emotions
His nightly beatings are setting into motion. Last nightâ??s emotion was
gratitude. And because I wasnâ??t sure if He was teasing or serious, I forgot to
thank Him for deciding not to beat me before I fell asleep. I know there was an
extreme amount of gratitude in my eyes, but thatâ??s not enough.


The emotions. I mentioned the emotions. Thereâ??s a lot going
on inside my head and itâ??s not easy to put it all into words. Thereâ??s this
tight feeling in the pit of my stomach every time He mentions that itâ??s time
for my nightly beating and the tears are in my eyes before Iâ??m even prostrate
on the bed. I want to beg Him not to, but at the same time I realize that if He
gave in it would only make things worse and Iâ??m not willing to chance that. And
where did the painslut go?


The difference between me and a lot of other submissives I
read/talk to is I do differentiate between punishment pain and pleasure pain. Or
in this case, discipline pain. Iâ??ve read all the suggestions of keeping one
thing for punishment and never using it for anything else. And Iâ??ve read all
the thoughts on not punishing a masochist with pain. But when itâ??s clear she
distinguishes between the two, why not?


Thereâ??s a lot of shame involved. Iâ??m not sure exactly where
it comes from. The closest I can get to an explanation is itâ??s been four and a
half years and Iâ??m still no where close to the kind of slave He wants me to be.
Thatâ??s shameful for me. It makes me feel like a complete failure. Like Iâ??ve
failed Him. And that hurts more than I can put into words.


And thereâ??s this strange dependency that I havenâ??t had
before. Weâ??ve always been rather close. That goes without saying. And Iâ??ve
always missed Him when one of us goes to work. But yesterday, there was this
devastating feeling of loss when I wasnâ??t able to just babble to Him whenever I
wanted to. The reality of what having this particular job means started to set
in and it sort of blindsided me.


I canâ??t really leave the mansion on my break. Especially if
thereâ??s no one there to watch what Iâ??m cooking. While I get two extra hours
with Him a night, itâ??s still not enough. Iâ??m not sure itâ??ll ever be enough. Not
being able to sit home and take care of His house and do His bidding at any
time of the day just really hurts. My favorite part of life has been yanked
from me and it sucks. You never do know what you have until itâ??s gone.


Thereâ??s a lot of questions. Will I ever be good enough? Will
there ever be a time where I can control myself, my mouth, etc. enough to not
need constant reminders? Will I ever not need to be beat on a regular basis to
remain in line? Will I ever stop hating it? Hating me. Hating who I am and
wishing for who I am not. Will I ever become who I want to be? And why do I
seem to need someone else to give me a good hard shove in the direction I
should be going, and then follow me along and make sure I stay on the path thatâ??s
been shown to me?


Anywayâ?¦ Iâ??m sort of frustrated with myself lately. Frustrated
with my apparent inability to be the slave I desperately want to be. So aside
from the nightly beatings, Iâ??ve been doing little things to push myself down
the path. Chores that I used to put off are usually done before I leave for
work. Positions I slacked in, I do my best to hold until Iâ??m told to move. Little
things that maybe no one notices. But Iâ??m trying.

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