Q&A
What is the hawtess play you have done to date that gets ur juices flowing ?
I wish I knew why these kinds of questions are so difficult for me. Anything that asks for a favorite makes my brain jerk to a halt. Favorite movie, favorite book, favorite color, favorite whatever- and I start categorizing everything. There are just too many categories to pick ONE favorite.
So I’ve avoided answering this question for a long time..lol Sorry!
There are some moments that stand out in my mind as being more intense. I don’t necessarily mean more painfully intense because the amount of pain seems to depend on too many other things.
I’m thinking more of instances where Master seemed to have tapped into something inside himself and I disappeared as a person. He detaches from me.
Does that make sense?
It’s like he absorbs my reaction, breathes them in and they just fuel him on and on and on, but he doesn’t react to my reactions. I can cry, beg, scream, snot, fight, give up, give in, surrender– and at every step, he’s there… but he’s not THERE. He’s soaking it up, taking my energy as his own, but there isn’t a single change in his demeanor or his expression or how he’s doing what he’s doing.
He’s just doing… and I’m just there as a prop. A means to an end.
When he does that, then I can get to a place inside that is amazingly free. It’s a helluva trip to get there, painful and scary and lonely and difficult. But it’s a beautiful place.
That hasn’t happened in a long time and I miss it more than I can even explain. It makes me sad that he’s either lost that desire or lost the ability to do it himself. Everything about me depends so hard on him that if he’s lost it, so have I.
I’m hopeful that it’s a temporary loss, for both of us.
I noticed that except on the kinky craft page, there aren’t any pictures of the syringe suckers in use… Just had some made for me thanks to your kinky craft page, and so though I’d return the favor and remind you (and more importantly someone else) of their existence…
It’s not a question but I thought I’d assist in reminding “someone else” of their existence, too!
Thanks. 
Why did you pick now to start dieting? What changed to make you want it? Did the negative comments here finally get to you?
I’m glad this question came in because I don’t think I responded very well to the motivation question in the last post.
So what made it real this time?
Well, first let me say what DIDN’T make it happen.
It had little to do with my appearance. I’ve really not been incredibly bothered with how I looked. The only thing I’ve ever really cared about as far as appearances go is whether or not Master still found me attractive. And he did. So, the motivation did not come from that.
It also had nothing to do with the fat comments here on the blog. Someone coming here and saying “Oh hey! You’re fat!” is like someone saying “Oh hey! You have brown hair!”. Like, d’uh, yanno?
I have an entire wall of mirrors in my bedroom. I know exactly what I look like, exactly how fat I am- AND I know I have brown hair. So, not a big eye-opener, nor a big insult.
There was a series of events, I guess, that pushed me toward that place of motivation.
The first was going down to see my mom this past Thanksgiving.
My mom needs to lose about 80 pounds. She hasn’t always been fat though. She was thin throughout her childhood and teenage years, thin throughout her childbearing years. I have a picture of her, taken the summer after I was born- and I was her 6th, and final, child- she was 30 years old then, wearing a mini skirt and go-go boots, and she was skinny.
The women in my family hit 30-35 years old and the weight starts to pack on. I’m following tradition.
So my mom started gaining weight, didn’t lose it, told herself the same excuses I’d been telling myself for years (“my husband is still attracted to me so who cares”, “I”m married, I have no one to impress”, “I’m old and I just want to relax”, etc., etc.) and now, some 30+ years later, she’s suffering.
What hit me while I was down there was having to watch her deal with all her health problems. And every. single. health issue she’s having right now is because she’s overweight. And they are mostly irreversible problems. Even if she loses weight now, the damage is done.
She’ll be lucky to have another 5 years left. Her heart is damaged, her arteries are clogged. Her knees are shot, her back is shot, she has a hernia they can’t fix because her heart isn’t strong enough. Now, all of these physical problems prevent exercise so losing weight is even harder.
I watched her get winded from going up the stairs. I watched her get dizzy from sweeping the floor. I watched her have to take frequent breaks from standing at the sink. I watched her take upteem pills a day.
I know she’s going to die.
She’s 68 years old.
The last couple of times I’ve been to the doctor, my blood pressure was high. Beginning hypertension. My last cholesterol check was too high.
I was following in her footsteps and I started thinking about how, when the kids are grown and moved out, and Master and I are finally able to indulge in some of these things we’ve had on hold for so long, I’m going to be too fat, too sick, and too far on my way to dying to even be able to do them.
I thought about only having so many more years left and how I wanted to live those years. Did I want to be making frequent trips to the hospital like my mom is doing, standing with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel? Worried every time my heart skips a beat that this is the last beat? Saying goodbye everyday because it might just be goodbye today?
I started thinking about not being around to watch Babygirl grow up.
I started getting scared.
Regardless of needing to lose 20lbs or 50lbs or 100lbs, if I’m unhealthy, then I’m unhealthy. I may not have been classified as obese or having to waddle sideways through the doorway. I was not even “big enough” that the doctors were advising that I watch my weight. My BMI isn’t in the obese range.
No matter. I was feeling the effects of my weight already. It certainly wasn’t going to get any better.
Having that personal motivation wasn’t all I needed though. I needed a buddy. Because, scared of dying or not, new situations intimidate me enough that I’ll avoid them. Forunately, my BFF-Jill was also looking to tone up and work out, and she wanted a buddy, too.
There was just enough of a buddy-push in the beginning to get us both past the “omg! new place! hold my hand!” stage. New classes aren’t so scary when you aren’t the only one in there having no clue what to do. Now, we each tend to go our seperate ways because our schedules are so vastly different. We try and go together when we can but we don’t use the other person not going as an excuse to skip it. We helped each other over the hump and that’s pretty cool. I’m so incredibly grateful, not only to her, but to our M’s who let it happen.
So thats my motivational story. I don’t want to die. Yet.
Have you ever gone to counseling? Why or why not? I have been reading your archives, and you went through quite a bit between your childhood, your mother, and your ex-husband. (From what I have read, I think that the answer is no, you haven’t been to counseling, so based on that) Have you considered it? Please elaborate.
I did a lot of counseling in my teenage years. Lots and lots. I spent about 3 years in and out of the hospital (psych ward). I went to group therapy, individual therapy, I had shock treatments, I had sodium pentothal (truth serum) interviews.
I’ve been to psychiatrists, therapists, counselors, social workers- you name it, I was there.
I weaved baskets in the stereotypical craft class while locked away. No lie.
I’ve been in the “rubber room”. (It’s not rubber, btw. Just very very squishy.)
I don’t know that ANY of it did any good.
I simply found something to live for. I’m still just as fucked up as ever. 
When he’s sick, do you do anything special to serve him? By ‘special’ I mean above what any domestic might do for his/her partner (outside of a bdsm dynamic, that is – like maybe make soup, or pick up a bigger share of chores), and also beyond what you do anyway within the structure of your dynamic. If that makes sense!
I don’t think so. LOL
I’m rather unsympathetic to people’s illnesses. Maybe that comes from working for so many years in nursing homes. Everyone there is sick, everyone hurts, and we still have to get them up and bathe them, feed them, etc. You kind of lose sympathy after awhile.
Well, maybe not LOSE it so much as you stop letting it affect you. You can’t leave them in bed all day where they’d much rather be so even as they are crying about being in pain or being tired and sick, you’re still nodding and getting them dressed and up anyway. You get hardened, I think.
I’m the same way with people in my life. My kids, Master.
It’s not that I don’t believe they are sick or that I don’t feel bad that they are sick, it just irritates me to hear them whining about it. Take your medicine, go to bed and shush. Whining is not a cure. Whining will not make you feel better.
I can whine. But they can’t…lol (kidding!)
I’m getting better though. Really I am. Master’s melting that hardened heart of mine. Mostly by babying me a bit when I’m sick. It kinda feels nice. So I’m trying to do that more with those around me.
I will make soup if he wants some. I like that kind of babying. That’s a service I can get behind and it makes me feel useful and helpful.
There is no “share of the chores” because we don’t share chores at all anyway. He doesn’t do chores, I do.
Mostly I would say nothing changes, though.
~~*~~
I’m out of March questions. If I missed yours, smack me upside the head. (I’ll like it. 
) Thank you all so much for another terrific March Q&A month!
Uncategorized | kaya | 
Monday March 29th, 2010 5:43am
When reading your blog I’m almost constantly reminded of the quote “There’s nothing to writing. Just go into a room, lock the door and open a vein.” (That’s pretty close on the exact wording and as I recall it was Red Smith that said it.)
Thanks for sharing your life’s blood.
I hear what you say about being unsympathetic about other people’s illnesses. I too am sort of unmoved by others whining. I have this sort of ‘um, well, yeah… so?’ kind of response in my head. I think it stems from my mother’s apparent irritation whenever I was sick. It was made very clear that I was a serious inconvenience, and more than once she accused me of lying or being mental rather than actually ill.
So I came to Master with that mind set, sick people are either not “really” sick and doing it for attention, or are crazy… We did go through a time when Master was really sick for almost a 8 months straight, first back pain, laying on the floor screaming back pain. (all I wanted to do was run the fuck away… it frightened me and I hated, hated, hated not being able to do anything about it) Then a series of serious throat infections that made his whole head would swell up, his voice change. He would not let me help him. He had two gurgling growls… one meant, “shut the fuck up”… the other “Get the fuck away from me.” I was convinced he was dying. Turned out he had bad, bad, bad tonsils. (who the hell still has tonsils when he is 50???). Then he had a tonsillectomy, then a root canal, and then because he is fucking brilliant a series of Lasic eye surgeries.
Throughout this I was determined to be a good slave, to take care of him, to do that nursing thing that did not come so naturally. He was not very receptive. I am still not much on babying, but I have learned to listen while he complains and to at least look like I care.
[rq=2527840,0,blog][/rq]Bread recipe
i relate to the whole ‘describe your favorite’ thing.
[rq=2532490,0,blog][/rq]Paw and Talon – Part 2
I’ve given you a blogger award. The details are on my site, I just wanted to let you know seeing as how I know nothing of computers and don’t know how else to notify you
[rq=2564043,0,blog][/rq]A lovely Surprise
Wow. I don’t know why but your attitude towards your weight just totally blew me away. In a good way. I want to be as comfortable with myself as you are. I want to be able to look myself in the eye when I stand in front of a mirror naked. I wish I didn’t still see myself as a size 10 in my head and just come to terms with me. I need to go thank SereneSub for introducing me to your blog
[rq=2564307,0,blog][/rq]The Not So Off Day