I should start this by admitting that there are numerous holes in my logic, and I'm feeling incredibly frustrated and therefore I'm somewhat irrational. I know that. Having gotten that out of the way, here is what is going on.
It has been a very rotten health month for both Red and me. Red still has his illness, and I've been diagnosed not only with hypothyroidism, but also neurocardiogenic syncope. That's a fancy medical term for "faints frequently." I had a tilt table test about a week ago which I "failed" spectacularly. Not only did I pass out remarkably fast, but I had almost no warning signs (such as nausea, or something like that).
I've been fainting fairly regularly. I figure it is because of stress. The doctor gave me medicine to help stop the fainting, but the side effects were even worse than the fainting, so I had to stop taking it. In the mean time, I'm not supposed to be driving. The doctor said nothing about not doing other things, but Red is with me regularly, so I haven't been allowed to do much.
I am absolutely crawling out of my skin. The weather is finally getting nicer, and I am absolutely DYING to pull down my Christmas lights, but Red would pop a vessel if he caught me on a ladder. I've been trying to get smaller things done around the house, but I've fallen over several times from dizziness. It seems that this past week the only thing I've been able to do is sit on the sofa and watch television.
Red has been doing his best to deal with his illness and has been working his sick butt off to please his clients who are all clammoring for his help. I suppose we are fortunate that his business is increasing as so many others are experiencing a decrease in business. We're struggliing with bills, particularly medical bills, so we can't afford to turn away the work. But I'm having a really difficult time with the lack of attention. His energy goes either to dealing with his illness or dealing with his work. It seems to me that he only finds time enough for me when he is telling me not to do something.
There has been no spanking. There has been very little intimacy. I feel absolutely useless to my poor husband and I'm going NUTS because I can't seem to do anything to help. But I know that if I exert myself much I'm likely to faint or at least lose my balance and fall over.
The thing is, as much as I know Red is right in telling me not to do this or that, I really REALLY don't want to listen to him. And if DD in our marriage is only going to mean that he gets to boss me around and I have to listen to him without getting any of my emotional needs met, then I really want no part of it. I definitely do not want a divorce, so please don't think that is where I'm going with what I'm about to say... It's just that I've been thinking a lot lately about how much easier it was when I was single. I got to do my own thing, make all my own decisions, and somehow I managed to survive just fine. Why is it now that I'm married and have a partner to "support" me that I feel so damn unstable?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
I've Got Some 'Splaining To Do
I have not meant to go so long between posts. I am still alive, and I appreciate everyone who has been checking in with me from time to time. I regret that I don't have sexier things to post about, but I figure I ought to post an update so you'll all understand what has been going on with me.
Regarding my previous post regarding bipolar disorder - there is a good chance that the diagnosis is wrong. The psychiatrist who I saw has turned out to be spectacularly unprofessional, to the point that Red and I are having to file a complaint against him with the medical licensing board. I'd go into further detail, but it is really an appalling situation and it really isn't the purpose of this blog to provide a platform for me to vent about incompetent doctors.
Red and I have been in a kind of holding pattern. He is still ill, and lately I have been having some alarming symptoms of illness and have been undergoing a number of tests myself. I am ok - it is unlikely that what is going on is life-threatening, but there is a serious possibility that my issues with depression have been caused by hormonal imbalances that are now causing some cardiac symptoms as well. I wish I could explain more, and hope to soon, but right now I simply don't know enough. I'm supposed to see my primary care physician in the coming week to talk about some results of the tests that I've recently undergone.
Do Red and I still have a discipline relationship? I suppose so, but currently all we can manage are the occasional swat delivered in passing. Our focus has simply shifted to survival issues.
Where does that leave this blog? I never intended for it stagnate the way I've allowed it to in the recent past. My desire to reach out has been hampered (with respects to this blog) by my desire to not allow the scope of this blog to shift too drastically away from my discipline relationship, the reality that right now Red and I have been unable to actually practice discipline within our relationship, and my need to maintain a reasonable degree of anonymity on this blog. In other words, there hasn't been much spanking to talk about around here lately, and I don't want to bore you all with the mundane and all-too-specific and personal details of our RL situation.
That's all the news that is fit to print for now. Again, thank you to those who have expressed concern. I fully intend to continue this blog, and I hope that my readers will continue to check in on me from time to time.
Regarding my previous post regarding bipolar disorder - there is a good chance that the diagnosis is wrong. The psychiatrist who I saw has turned out to be spectacularly unprofessional, to the point that Red and I are having to file a complaint against him with the medical licensing board. I'd go into further detail, but it is really an appalling situation and it really isn't the purpose of this blog to provide a platform for me to vent about incompetent doctors.
Red and I have been in a kind of holding pattern. He is still ill, and lately I have been having some alarming symptoms of illness and have been undergoing a number of tests myself. I am ok - it is unlikely that what is going on is life-threatening, but there is a serious possibility that my issues with depression have been caused by hormonal imbalances that are now causing some cardiac symptoms as well. I wish I could explain more, and hope to soon, but right now I simply don't know enough. I'm supposed to see my primary care physician in the coming week to talk about some results of the tests that I've recently undergone.
Do Red and I still have a discipline relationship? I suppose so, but currently all we can manage are the occasional swat delivered in passing. Our focus has simply shifted to survival issues.
Where does that leave this blog? I never intended for it stagnate the way I've allowed it to in the recent past. My desire to reach out has been hampered (with respects to this blog) by my desire to not allow the scope of this blog to shift too drastically away from my discipline relationship, the reality that right now Red and I have been unable to actually practice discipline within our relationship, and my need to maintain a reasonable degree of anonymity on this blog. In other words, there hasn't been much spanking to talk about around here lately, and I don't want to bore you all with the mundane and all-too-specific and personal details of our RL situation.
That's all the news that is fit to print for now. Again, thank you to those who have expressed concern. I fully intend to continue this blog, and I hope that my readers will continue to check in on me from time to time.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year!
I hope that the New Year is finding you all well. 2008 has been an interesting and difficult year for Red and I. His illness has had him in constant pain, and my illness has had me completely confused about myself. But that is not really what I want to focus on right now.
New Year's is a bittersweet time for me. There is all the joy and freshness of a New Year starting and the relief of putting a difficult year behind me. But there are also memories of New Years past. One in particular. I lost my stepfather on New Year's day several years ago. He actually died on January 2nd, but had an aortic dissection on the evening of the 1st. My mother rushed him to the local hospital where we had to wait for a team of heart surgeons to be assembled. Staffing was low because of the holiday, but we were told that because of the specialists needed, we would have had to wait for them all to come together anyway.
He survived the surgery, but because he'd died on the table a couple of times and had to be revived, his brain swelled and there was nothing more that we could do.
Every New Year's day since, my memories of that time come back just like it happened yesterday. But the thing is, his death was not as sad as it could have been. His death was what caused his family to learn of a dangerous genetic illness that several of them have. His brother was saved the same month after he learned that his own aorta was at the crisis point. One of the doctor's told him that he could have died the same week as his brother. His sister, who was pregnant at the time, also learned that her aorta was in trouble, and this knowledge not only saved her, but enabled her to safely deliver her beautiful daughter.
If my stepfather hadn't died, his brother might have left his two small children fatherless, and his sister might have died in childbirth.
I guess I tell this story not only to remember him on this anniversary, but also to show that endings, even painful tragic ones, are still new beginnings. Sometimes in the midst of pain that is difficult to see.
I hope that all of your new beginnings bring happiness and health to you this new year. My best to you all.
New Year's is a bittersweet time for me. There is all the joy and freshness of a New Year starting and the relief of putting a difficult year behind me. But there are also memories of New Years past. One in particular. I lost my stepfather on New Year's day several years ago. He actually died on January 2nd, but had an aortic dissection on the evening of the 1st. My mother rushed him to the local hospital where we had to wait for a team of heart surgeons to be assembled. Staffing was low because of the holiday, but we were told that because of the specialists needed, we would have had to wait for them all to come together anyway.
He survived the surgery, but because he'd died on the table a couple of times and had to be revived, his brain swelled and there was nothing more that we could do.
Every New Year's day since, my memories of that time come back just like it happened yesterday. But the thing is, his death was not as sad as it could have been. His death was what caused his family to learn of a dangerous genetic illness that several of them have. His brother was saved the same month after he learned that his own aorta was at the crisis point. One of the doctor's told him that he could have died the same week as his brother. His sister, who was pregnant at the time, also learned that her aorta was in trouble, and this knowledge not only saved her, but enabled her to safely deliver her beautiful daughter.
If my stepfather hadn't died, his brother might have left his two small children fatherless, and his sister might have died in childbirth.
I guess I tell this story not only to remember him on this anniversary, but also to show that endings, even painful tragic ones, are still new beginnings. Sometimes in the midst of pain that is difficult to see.
I hope that all of your new beginnings bring happiness and health to you this new year. My best to you all.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Diagnoses
The past couple of weeks have been overwhelming, but I suppose positive in a way. Red and I have both been diagnosed. His diagnosis has been long-anticipated, as he's been ill for nearly two years now. Mine was quite unexpected. Both are life-long.
Red has been diagnosed with IBS. It took quite a while for our doctors to finally come to that conclusion, one, because IBS is a diagnosis reached through exclusion of all other possibilities, and two, because Red's IBS is so severe that the doctors had a hard time believing that it actually was IBS. I've of course heard of IBS before, and have known a few people who have it, but I've never known that it could be so debilitating. We've spent many an evening over the past few years in the emergency room, and have had many frightening moments when we feared that the symptoms he was having could actually kill him. This illness doesn't just make our sex/spanking life extremely difficult, it makes just living and functioning day-to-day difficult.
As for me, I've been diagnosed as bipolar. I can't say that I'm entirely surprised, as I've been in therapy on and off since I was about twelve-years-old. My psychiatrists have all kind of touched on the idea that I might be bipolar, but for whatever reason have all rejected it. However, no one has ever come to a diagnosis either. I spoke to a psychologist on Thursday after having a meltdown that morning. Red and I decided that I had to see someone immediately, and found someone to fit me in. She, after reviewing the forms I filled out and speaking to me for about an hour, told me that she thinks that I have the "mild" form of bipolar (meaning that I don't have psychotic breaks, just dramatic mood swings). I see the psychiatrist this afternoon to find out what kind of medication he wants to put me on.
I've kind of been feeling in limbo for the past few days. At first, it seemed like a relief to have a diagnosis, a reason for why I feel the way that I do. But then it sunk in that this is a life-long condition, and a thing to be dealt with. I wonder if I'll ever feel normal again. I am hoping that whatever treatment the doctor chooses will help me to be able to be the person who I perceive myself to be underneath all of my irrationalities and idiosyncrasies. On the other hand, I hate the idea that my ability to cope with and interact with the world around me will depend on a pill.
I also hope that I'll have some more fun stuff to post about soon. It's been nothing but gloom at our house lately. Maybe I'll go wake Red up with a shot in the ear from my squirt gun. (Just kidding!)
Red has been diagnosed with IBS. It took quite a while for our doctors to finally come to that conclusion, one, because IBS is a diagnosis reached through exclusion of all other possibilities, and two, because Red's IBS is so severe that the doctors had a hard time believing that it actually was IBS. I've of course heard of IBS before, and have known a few people who have it, but I've never known that it could be so debilitating. We've spent many an evening over the past few years in the emergency room, and have had many frightening moments when we feared that the symptoms he was having could actually kill him. This illness doesn't just make our sex/spanking life extremely difficult, it makes just living and functioning day-to-day difficult.
As for me, I've been diagnosed as bipolar. I can't say that I'm entirely surprised, as I've been in therapy on and off since I was about twelve-years-old. My psychiatrists have all kind of touched on the idea that I might be bipolar, but for whatever reason have all rejected it. However, no one has ever come to a diagnosis either. I spoke to a psychologist on Thursday after having a meltdown that morning. Red and I decided that I had to see someone immediately, and found someone to fit me in. She, after reviewing the forms I filled out and speaking to me for about an hour, told me that she thinks that I have the "mild" form of bipolar (meaning that I don't have psychotic breaks, just dramatic mood swings). I see the psychiatrist this afternoon to find out what kind of medication he wants to put me on.
I've kind of been feeling in limbo for the past few days. At first, it seemed like a relief to have a diagnosis, a reason for why I feel the way that I do. But then it sunk in that this is a life-long condition, and a thing to be dealt with. I wonder if I'll ever feel normal again. I am hoping that whatever treatment the doctor chooses will help me to be able to be the person who I perceive myself to be underneath all of my irrationalities and idiosyncrasies. On the other hand, I hate the idea that my ability to cope with and interact with the world around me will depend on a pill.
I also hope that I'll have some more fun stuff to post about soon. It's been nothing but gloom at our house lately. Maybe I'll go wake Red up with a shot in the ear from my squirt gun. (Just kidding!)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I Love My Lurkers
Today is the third annual Love Our Lurkers day! In observance of this blogger holiday, I am posting to express my gratitude to all of you who read my blog.
Bonnie, at My Bottom Smarts wrote:
While we may not see your face or read your words, we know you're out there. Even in silence, your return visits provide a gentle affirmation.
I'd like to second this sentiment. While perhaps sometimes I am more of a lurker myself than a blogger, it helps me to know that others are out there listening. To those who feel comfortable commenting and take the time to do so, I am grateful. To those who don't, I am also grateful.
I didn't actually "come out" in the online community until around January 2007. I was a lurker online since 1999. I believe my first blog comment ever was at The Punishment Book, where I posted with much trepidation. After that first step, posting became much easier, and I found that the spanko community at large, and particularly the bloggers, were gracious and even happy about my posts.
So to those lurkers who are out there, I would be so pleased if you would post a message. But if not, no worries. You are always welcome here, and I am grateful that you listen.
Bonnie, at My Bottom Smarts wrote:
While we may not see your face or read your words, we know you're out there. Even in silence, your return visits provide a gentle affirmation.
I'd like to second this sentiment. While perhaps sometimes I am more of a lurker myself than a blogger, it helps me to know that others are out there listening. To those who feel comfortable commenting and take the time to do so, I am grateful. To those who don't, I am also grateful.
I didn't actually "come out" in the online community until around January 2007. I was a lurker online since 1999. I believe my first blog comment ever was at The Punishment Book, where I posted with much trepidation. After that first step, posting became much easier, and I found that the spanko community at large, and particularly the bloggers, were gracious and even happy about my posts.
So to those lurkers who are out there, I would be so pleased if you would post a message. But if not, no worries. You are always welcome here, and I am grateful that you listen.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Oy, I've been tagged
Yes, Sara, you're right. I generally don't do memes. But since you tagged so nicely...
The Rules-
* Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
* Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
* Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
* Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
1. One of the main reasons I don't do memes is that I rarely can think of so many things to say about myself. It's also the main reason that I don't post often enough.
2. I knit. I have a large yarn stash in the basement, and the chilly weather is awakening my drive to go gather more wool.
3. I knitted a dinosaur costume for one of my dogs. (Yeah, I know I'm a dork.) He hates the thing, but I still make him wear it on Halloween.
4. I wanted to be a teacher up until I started college, when it suddenly occurred to me that teaching involved a kind of public speaking.
5. I've sung professionally before, which is really weird, since I hate the spotlight. I don't plan to ever do it again.
6. I'm frequently complimented on my fingernails. I don't bite them, so they tend to grow fairly long and I have "nice nail-beds" as one lady told me. I trim my fingernails when they get long enough to interfere with my ability to type. Right now the colder weather is making them more brittle so they'll probably start breaking soon.
7. I can't cook at all. I'm actually not allowed to anymore. I cooked for Red once when we were engaged. I assumed it was a responsibility that we would share. He very sweetly said that he appreciated my efforts but would appreciate it more if I never did it again. He's a great cook, so this arrangement has worked out well for us, except for when he is away on business.
So now I'm supposed to tag 7 more people, but here's the thing... I'm not gonna, and you can't make me! I'm breaking this rule! (Yay me, finally found a rule to break!) So spank me.
The Rules-
* Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
* Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
* Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
* Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
1. One of the main reasons I don't do memes is that I rarely can think of so many things to say about myself. It's also the main reason that I don't post often enough.
2. I knit. I have a large yarn stash in the basement, and the chilly weather is awakening my drive to go gather more wool.
3. I knitted a dinosaur costume for one of my dogs. (Yeah, I know I'm a dork.) He hates the thing, but I still make him wear it on Halloween.
4. I wanted to be a teacher up until I started college, when it suddenly occurred to me that teaching involved a kind of public speaking.
5. I've sung professionally before, which is really weird, since I hate the spotlight. I don't plan to ever do it again.
6. I'm frequently complimented on my fingernails. I don't bite them, so they tend to grow fairly long and I have "nice nail-beds" as one lady told me. I trim my fingernails when they get long enough to interfere with my ability to type. Right now the colder weather is making them more brittle so they'll probably start breaking soon.
7. I can't cook at all. I'm actually not allowed to anymore. I cooked for Red once when we were engaged. I assumed it was a responsibility that we would share. He very sweetly said that he appreciated my efforts but would appreciate it more if I never did it again. He's a great cook, so this arrangement has worked out well for us, except for when he is away on business.
So now I'm supposed to tag 7 more people, but here's the thing... I'm not gonna, and you can't make me! I'm breaking this rule! (Yay me, finally found a rule to break!) So spank me.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Void for Vagueness?
Last night Red declared a new rule. I am not to allow one or both of our dogs to remain outside too long, or I will be punished. This rule came about because yesterday morning I let the youngest of our two dogs outside and left him outside for about 15 to 20 minutes. The length of time was not excessively long, but it was chilly and he's a small dog. When I let him in, I apologized for being a "bad mommy" and assured him that "daddy will punish me for it later." I thought Red was napping at this time and had no idea that he'd overheard my little one-sided conversation.
Anyhow, last night while lying in bed, he informed me that he had in fact heard, and that from now on I really would be getting punished for such infractions. I remained quiet and accepted his pronouncement.
I have to admit though, that the compulsively rule-observant part of me immediately started coming up with questions. I like to follow rules - all rules - to a T, and for that to be possible, there must be a "T." There must be a strict definition of the rule so that I can remain firmly within its limits.
How long is too long? I wanted to ask. Is it conditional on the outside temperature? Is there a "relevant range" of sorts within which it is acceptable to leave him outside for "x" number of minutes, or is it directly (or indirectly) proportional to the relative extremity of the temperature? Does time of day factor into this consideration? What is the equation with which I can determine the appropriate amount of time for the dog to remain outside given all considerable conditions?
I know that if I actually voiced these questions to Red, he'd be completely exasperated with me. My compulsive good-girl-ishness almost never fails to stand in the way of him imposing the boundaries and discipline that I claim to want. And I do want them, though I admit that you'd never know it from my behavior.
So I'm not quite sure what to do now, other than resist the temptation to never let the dogs outside at all...
Anyhow, last night while lying in bed, he informed me that he had in fact heard, and that from now on I really would be getting punished for such infractions. I remained quiet and accepted his pronouncement.
I have to admit though, that the compulsively rule-observant part of me immediately started coming up with questions. I like to follow rules - all rules - to a T, and for that to be possible, there must be a "T." There must be a strict definition of the rule so that I can remain firmly within its limits.
How long is too long? I wanted to ask. Is it conditional on the outside temperature? Is there a "relevant range" of sorts within which it is acceptable to leave him outside for "x" number of minutes, or is it directly (or indirectly) proportional to the relative extremity of the temperature? Does time of day factor into this consideration? What is the equation with which I can determine the appropriate amount of time for the dog to remain outside given all considerable conditions?
I know that if I actually voiced these questions to Red, he'd be completely exasperated with me. My compulsive good-girl-ishness almost never fails to stand in the way of him imposing the boundaries and discipline that I claim to want. And I do want them, though I admit that you'd never know it from my behavior.
So I'm not quite sure what to do now, other than resist the temptation to never let the dogs outside at all...
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