Archive for November 1st, 2007

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November 1st, 2007 No comments

Before we went to Disney, I was spending a lot of my time depressed and whiny. Who am I trying to kid? I was down right bitchy. I was going through an avalanche of emotions that I just didn’t know how to deal with. And I wasn’t ready to confront them head on. I kept telling myself “Disney will fix it.” and “When we get back from Disney things will be back to normal.” and “A little bit of Disney magic will make things right again.”

I meant me. Disney will fix me. I’m not sure why I thought going to this wonderful place would make me feel better about things. But I was convinced it would.

Before we left, Master said something to the effect of “You don’t believe I love you because I’m hard on you. I wouldn’t be quite so hard on you if I didn’t love you so much.” I sat back in awe, once again, of His ability to read me (while wondering if I’m this transparent to the rest of the world) and tried to figure out what to say to Him. My whole life until I met Master I was painstakingly trained to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself in an attempt to avoid conflict or keep from hurting someone else’s feelings. And that’s been one of the hardest parts of this being a slave business from the start. Being open about my thoughts and feelings regardless of whether or not they might hurt Master or make Him angry.

At one point, I seriously considered giving up on reading blogs. Everywhere I turned someone’s owner was telling her how proud he is of her and how much he loves her and how special she is to him. And it felt like every minute of every day I was being told how much of a disappointment I am. It was breaking my heart.

I’m not sure if my frustration was aimed in the right direction. I’m not sure if I was mad at the right person. Maybe all I am is a disappointment. Maybe I was never cut out to be a slave. Maybe I took the wrong path way back when and I should have stuck with the one I was on. And maybe I should stop being so caught up in me and start worrying about the person who’s supposed to be the center of my universe.

What it comes right down to, though, is I was mad. No one ever tells me I’m a good girl. No one ever tells me they’re proud of me. And when I brought it up, or when I said “I’m nothing but a disappointment.”, or when I all but begged for some light in this pitch black tunnel I seemed to be walking in, I got slammed into another wall. And I began to wonder if I should believe it. And when I get too far down the believing path, I get into the mindset of “Well, if I’m nothing but a disappointment, why should I even try to be anything else?”

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