I actually had an interview. It was crazy. It took me weeks to get an application in to the place, I drove around the building (it’s a nursing home) about 3 or 4 times before giving up and going home in tears. I absolutely could not make myself go in. I was terrified, shaking, the whole bit. I ended up finding a website for the place and filling out a “job inquiry” form online. A few days later, they called. The experience that I listed qualified me for something. Not the job I normally do since I’m all expired and stuff, but something like it.

It’s a community outreach program for the elderly. Those inbetween needing nursing home care and being independent. It would involve going to their homes and cooking/cleaning, helping them with bathing. And there is an adult daycare center that I would have worked at… drove them to and from Dr. appt’s. That sort of thing.

Anyway, they called and asked me to come in for an interview.. and I did. It went okay, I was relatively normal. But I could feel the panic right there at the edge.. and I froze on some of the questions. My mind would go completely blank, you know? And I would just stare at the lady, unable to answer… getting more and more panicky. It was crazy!

The answers I kept thinking of when she would ask me a question were like.. things that had to do with slavery. Answers that I would give to Master if HE were asking me what my weaknesses were or what my strengths were, or what part of this “job” do I like/hate the most. And then I couldn’t concentrate and think of an appropriate answer to her question.

I really felt like the biggest fucking loser ever.

So anyway.. the interview ended but before she could offer me the job, there was some information that I was missing. She told me to get that stuff back to her and we’d “see from there”.

I never got the information back to her. I don’t think I could step foot back in that place.

Some days I feel really brave and I try and psych myself up for getting back out there in society. I just tell myself I’m going to get back in school and get a job and be normal and be that person that I used to be. I used to be independent! I had a job and a house and a car and I did it all on my own. I know what I (was) capable of!

And I know this is what Master is wanting from me right now. To be a second source of income. This is a service that he wants, that he’s asking for.. and that’s the biggest reason that I can’t shake the “failure! failure! failure! failure!” blinking banner in my head. And the biggest reason that I’ve pulled into myself and am.. somewhere.. not focused on slavery or service or sex or anything. That feeling of being a failure at one thing has turned me into the biggest failure – at everything.

But most days… the thought of being “out there” reduces me to tears. Tears of fear.. of shame.. of worry. Panic. I just feel like I’m drifting through the days. Waiting for… I don’t even know what. Courage or death.

So that’s where that stands. What’s going to happen remains to be seen.

There is the process of brainwashing.. which is very real. And there is the idea that part of making someone believe that they can’t leave is by eliminating the means, both the financial means and the emotional strength to do so. This all speaks to the internal enslavement stuff that I so often blather on about.

There is no doubt in my mind that that is exactly what’s going on here. Only it’s not about leaving, as in leaving the relationship because of course I don’t want that. But even if I did, the option of leaving would necessitate that I am able to take care of myself. And I am not. Not now. Not now that he’s had his hands dabbling in my psyche so deeply and for so long.

It’s the deprogramming of myself. My confidence, my abilities, my social skills. While he’s improved me in many ways, ways that soley benefit him, he’s destroyed other things, other strengths that I once possessed. Of course now it feels like I don’t possess any skills whatsoever.. but I’m sure that’s the drama queen in me, running amok.

So.. I just don’t know. I’m not sure which direction he’s going to push me in.