tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41817612131243093642024-03-21T18:29:38.019-04:00By Any Other WordMy meager contribution to the online spanko community.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-73750731525786495222009-10-17T09:38:00.002-04:002009-10-17T09:55:14.402-04:00My Bottom Hurts...But for the wrong reasons.<br /><br />I promised an update, and I will be a good girl and deliver. Red and I have been getting by fairly well. He's still struggling with his illness, but his doctors are paying extremely close attention to him since our close call, and he is getting good treatment. All tests are showing that his body is recovering well. <br /><br />I'm also doing well too. Early in 2009, I think I posted about being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. My treatment for that, a simple pill each morning, has me feeling tons better in a lot of ways. <br /><br />There is no denying, however, that Red and I have had a crash course in how to manage extreme stress over the past several months. And of course, with Red's health being the issue that it is, our discipline arrangement has taken a back seat. I'm not exactly sure where things stand at the moment, discipline-wise. I've gotten some playful swats, and a couple of light, playful spankings, but no discipline for quite some time.<br /><br />I know that I've written in the past about how our discipline arrangement helps me emotionally. Having to learn to manage without it has been a challenge, but one that I think I'm finally doing well with. As my energy has improved from the thyroid treatment, I've taken up the sport of running. I've gone from being a person who wouldn't necessarily run even when chased, to someone who runs several miles a day on a regular basis. <br /><br />I remember when I started to take up running, and I was huffing and puffing my way through my workout, I thought to myself, "This is worse than a spanking. Maybe I'm subconsciously trying to discipline myself." <br /><br />Well, it turns out that in a way, I have. Thyroid treatment and increased exercise has lead to weight loss, of course. And weight loss has lead to baggy clothing. Baggy clothing rubs against your skin more when you move. Running in panties that are now too big on me has completely chaffed my poor bottom. It now looks and feels like Red went to town on my poor behind, when he never laid a finger on me. <br /><br />I felt a bit silly as Red lovingly put baby powder on my backside, but he assured me that he loved taking care of my bottom. Then he made me promise to go buy some new clothes, and added, "I don't want to have to spank you when your bottom is like this."Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-8536612924682744422009-10-13T09:30:00.002-04:002009-10-13T09:41:38.704-04:00I Love My Lurkers!In some ways I'm still more of a lurker than a blogger. It took me years to begin commenting on other blogs, The Punishment Book being my first in January 2007. That being said, even though I am technically a blogger now, my inner lurker is still in control a lot of the time.<br /><br />It was really difficult for me to post my first comment. I felt like I was trying to introduce myself to the popular crowd, since I posted on a fairly well-known blog written by known bloggers. Having been a huge dork most of my life, introducing myself, especially when it involves a "coming out" of sorts into a "deviant" community (for lack of a better term) was daunting. But what I found was that the people I began commenting to and chatting with were instantly accepting of me, having gone through the same thing at some time in their pasts.<br /><br />I'm still a terribly shy person. I still suffer from the strong feeling that I have absolutely nothing to contribute and that no one wants to hear what I might have to say. I'm still more of a lurker than a blogger, so I can understand what it feels like to be in your shoes, dear Lurker.<br /><br />So what I'm trying to say is this. First of all, I appreciate you. For anyone who reads my posts that I am so very insecure about, I appreciate you. I would love to hear from you. If you're ready to delurk, I will welcome you with open arms. Don't be afraid. There are lots of bloggers who participate with Love Our Lurkers Day, and if my blog doesn't tickle your fancy, then I encourage you to delurk on a blog that does. Just know that you are welcome, you are wanted, and you are appreciated.<br /><br />I love you lurkers!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-21499717849325837192009-10-08T11:43:00.002-04:002009-10-08T12:00:16.002-04:00Lit for DDers, and those with Professor/Student KinksAs Red has been working on improving his health, I too have been working on improving myself in a variety of ways. One of these ways, since I am not able to attend school at the time, is to catch up on the 100+ classics that have been sitting untouched on my bookshelves.<br /><br />I am a student of literature, and have a particular love of Victorian literature. The fact that talk of discipline and such occasionally arises in literature from this time period is not the reason; it is a happy coincidence.<br /><br />In my recent reading, I discovered a book that would likely be very enjoyable for both DDers, and playful spankos alike. I do not recall reading if another blogger has posted about this book, but if someone has already, my apologies for stepping on your post. No disrespect intended.<br /><br />Anyhow, the book is <em>The Professor</em>, by Charlotte Bronte. It is about a gentleman named William Crimsworth, who teaches English in Belgium and falls in love with a fellow teacher, Frances Evans Henri, who becomes his pupil. <br /><br />The following passages are from Chapter 25 of the novel:<br /><br /><em>"My afternoons were spent also in college, with the exception of an hour that my wife daily exacted of me for her establishment, and with which she would not dispense. She said that I must spend that time amongst her pupils to learn their characters, to be AU COURANT with everything that was passing in the house, to become interested in what interested her, to be able to give her my opinion on knotty points when she required it, and this she did constantly, never allowing my interest in the pupils to fall asleep, and never making any change of importance without my cognizance and consent. She delighted to sit by me when I gave my lessons (lessons in literature), her hands folded on her knee, the most fixedly attentive of any present. She rarely addressed me in class; when she did it was with an air of marked deference; it was her pleasure, her joy to make me still the master in all things."</em><br /><br />While I am not the type of woman who would generally call anyone "Master," I found that Frances' continued pattern of addressing Crimsworth as "Master" even once they had clearly transitioned from a professor/student to a spousal relationship, was a thrilling detail for me.<br /><br /><em>"Talk French to me she would, and many a punishment she has had for her wilfulness. I fear the choice of chastisement must have been injudicious, for instead of correcting the fault, it seemed to encourage its renewal. Our evenings were our own; that recreation was necessary to refresh our strength for the due discharge of our duties; sometimes we spent them all in conversation, and my young Genevese, now that she was thoroughly accustomed to her English professor, now that she loved him too absolutely to fear him much, reposed in him a confidence so unlimited that topics of conversation could no more be wanting with him than subjects for communion with her own heart. In those moments, happy as a bird with its mate, she would show me what she had of vivacity, of mirth, of originality in her well-dowered nature. She would show, too, some stores of raillery, of “malice,” and would vex, tease, pique me sometimes about what she called my “bizarreries anglaises,” my “caprices insulaires,” with a wild and witty wickedness that made a perfect white demon of her while it lasted. This was rare, however, and the elfish freak was always short: sometimes when driven a little hard in the war of words—for her tongue did ample justice to the pith, the point, the delicacy of her native French, in which language she always attacked me—I used to turn upon her with my old decision, and arrest bodily the sprite that teased me. Vain idea! no sooner had I grasped hand or arm than the elf was gone; the provocative smile quenched in the expressive brown eyes, and a ray of gentle homage shone under the lids in its place. I had seized a mere vexing fairy, and found a submissive and supplicating little mortal woman in my arms. Then I made her get a book, and read English to me for an hour by way of penance."</em><br /><br />It should be obvious to any DDer/spanko why this passage is one of my favorites in the novel.<br /><br />While this novel was Bronte's first, and is not her most well-known nor most critically-acclaimed, I certainly enjoyed it. I highly recommend it. <br /><br />And on a more personal note... Thank you to all who have posted supported messages and/or emailed to inquire how Red and I are doing. Red's health continues to improve, and I've been working to improve myself as well. I will be posting again soon to give a more detailed update. I have not disappeared permanently, and I appreciate those who still stop by and read my infrequent posts. I hope you are all well.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-22719608273955187972009-08-12T11:20:00.002-04:002009-08-12T12:12:53.146-04:00Close CallIn mid-July, I came way too close to losing Red. I spent a week sleeping in a hospital chair, watching my husband sleep, listening to machines beep, and praying for various measurements in his blood to go one way or the other. <br /><br />We got lucky. The doctors say there is an excellent chance that there will be no lasting damage to Red, though if we'd waited just a couple more hours to go to the ER, I'd be posting something much much different right now. <br /><br />What happened? Well, I won't post the name of the drug, because I don't want to freak anyone out, and I don't want to get sued by the company. But Red took a very common over-the-counter pain killer, and turned out to be the one-person-in-a-million who has those horrible adverse reactions they list in the commercials that most people ignore. His kidneys shut down. His heart nearly stopped. All because his foot hurt and he popped a pill. <br /><br />I had a lot of time to think while I was sitting in that hospital chair. Though most of it didn't relate directly to DD, in a lot of ways, it related indirectly, so I thought it worth posting here.<br /><br />The thing about Red is that he's a pretty private guy, and not many people know him very well. If they did, they'd know that no matter what assumptions you make about the guy, you're probably wrong. <br /><br />For example, Red is physically the kind of spanker-man about whom most women with our particular preferences would dream. He's a big guy, even "larger than life" in some ways, and when he wants me to go somewhere (such as the bedroom for a nap, a spanking, or something else), he has no trouble getting me there. He's both an immovable object and an irresistable force when he wants to be. He seems unstoppable. <br /><br />Because of his appearance, most people assume he's a meat and potatoes kind of man. But Red doesn't eat red meat. Red doesn't eat fried foods, fatty foods. He has a rather conservative diet.<br /><br />Because of his incredible knowledge (Red is at the top of his field and has been becoming rather well known in his area of work), people assume that he knows everything. And sometimes I think so too. They'd never guess that Red has an incredible weakness when it comes to figurative speech. It quite frequently happens that Red needs to come to me after speaking to a client and ask me what a certain commonly-used metaphor means. <br /><br />People also assume that Red is, just as he calls himself, "insensitive and uncaring." This may be true about some things, but Red has revealed himself to me over the years to be one of the most sensitive people I've ever met. The same man who warned me that we would not go through extreme and costly measures to save an animal's life when we adopted our first dog is now going through hell and high water to keep the poor, elderly, senile creature alive. <br /><br />I tell you all of this to try to give you an idea of what it was like for me to watch this powerful man made helpless, and dependent upon machines and medicines to save his life. It is easy, and often pleasurable for me, to feel helpless and dependant on him, because he is so much larger and stronger than I am. I feel vulnerable around him. He is older and more experienced than I am. I rely on him quite a bit. I let myself believe that he's every bit as unstoppable as he seems. <br /><br />But suddenly I found myself being the much stronger of the two. A little pill that has little to no effect on me, damn near killed him.<br /><br />The fact is that despite all appearances, in the end Red is every bit as vulnerable as I am. He is my foundation because he chooses to be, and I can believe him to be unstoppable because he lets me. And I simply cannot take that for granted.<br /><br />I am a very lucky woman to have Red with me. We're both lucky that his doctors are so capable and that the treatments have been so successful. Red has been getting stronger every day, and has even felt strong enough to threaten me with spankings for various minor misdeeds. And while I, of course, argue that I should not be spanked, I can help but feel so very grateful that he's strong enough to make the threat, and getting strong enough to follow through.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-84722455509683956572009-07-03T11:16:00.002-04:002009-07-03T11:31:45.759-04:00Coming AroundShortly after my last post in March, Red and I entered marriage counseling. Though we're not talking about DD with our therapist, it is pretty clear to me that some aspects of DD have strengthened our relationship. For example, our therapist is extremely impressed with our communication skills. In our first couple of sessions, after Red would tell her something, she'd look at me and ask, "did you know about this? Have you talked about this before?" It only took a couple of sessions for her to figure out that there is nothing that Red and I haven't told each other. There have been no shocking revelations between us in therapy. I think we're a challenge for her... she mentioned to me that most couples use therapy to learn how to communicate, but since Red and I clearly already know how to communicate, we're way ahead of the game.<br /><br />On the other hand, our DD is still on hold. I asked Red a couple of weeks ago if we were returning to it. He said he wanted to "earn it back." So we're both earning it back.<br /><br />In the meantime, I've been working like crazy on figuring myself out. Red and I have our challenges... some pretty big ones, since we've both had rough pasts. I wish I could go into more detail, since I'm sure some of our experiences may help others, but since they aren't really related to spanking or DD, and because I respect Red's privacy, I can't go into them. Anyhow, added to our emotional challenges are our physical challenges... Red has been ill for 2 and 1/2 years now. I was recently diagnosed hypothyroid (which appears to have been causing much of my depression for years), as well as dysautonomia. My treatment involves medication that alters my hormonal balance, which means that I am relearning what makes me tick on a hormonal level. PMS is a bit more severe for me now, but also a bit more predictable, so it is all a matter of learning how to deal with it.<br /><br />I'm also trying to get my spanking mojo back. I know it is around here somewhere. I think when Red and I were starting to have some of our most serious conflicts, I pushed that part of myself aside in order to cope. I simply have not been able to take it back on yet. I feared for a while that I'd somehow inadvertently "cured" my spanko-hood. But after a serious case of the spankin' hornies came around a week or so ago, I have faith that it will return in time.<br /><br />Anyhow, I just wanted to let anyone who might still read my blog know that Red and I are coming around. We're piecing things back together and will hopefully be in a position to start implementing DD again soon.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-90819199846894706212009-03-24T13:20:00.003-04:002009-03-24T13:23:14.901-04:00It's OverIn a screaming match today, Red and I ended our discipline arrangement. Or rather, perhaps, we acknowledged that it was already over. I'm not sure the difference matters, if there is one.<br /><br />I don't know what this means for me, for Red, or for this blog. I'm kind of a mess right now and I'm trying not to think too much about anything. It's just easier not to think if I don't have to.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-7720300777197144612009-03-12T17:14:00.003-04:002009-03-12T17:33:24.353-04:00To DD, or Not To DDI 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.<br /><br />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). <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <em>not</em> to do something.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-84775010705967825472009-02-07T17:45:00.003-05:002009-02-07T18:07:33.760-05:00I've Got Some 'Splaining To DoI 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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 <em>practice</em> 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. <br /><br />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.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-85637315555937714892009-01-01T13:03:00.002-05:002009-01-01T13:19:03.903-05:00Happy 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />If my stepfather hadn't died, his brother might have left his two small children fatherless, and his sister might have died in childbirth. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />I hope that all of your new beginnings bring happiness and health to you this new year. My best to you all.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-87217749955500924472008-11-24T10:46:00.002-05:002008-11-24T11:10:49.371-05:00DiagnosesThe 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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 <em>thing to be dealt with</em>. 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. <br /><br />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!)Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-14963322423761309402008-11-11T00:12:00.002-05:002008-11-11T00:25:26.383-05:00I Love My LurkersToday 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. <br /><br />Bonnie, at <a href="http://bottomsmarts.blogspot.com/">My Bottom Smarts</a> wrote:<br /><em>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.</em><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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 <a href="http://www.punishmentbook.org/">The Punishment Book</a>, 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 <em>happy</em> about my posts.<br /><br />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.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-58397294283618173822008-10-27T11:01:00.002-04:002008-10-27T11:30:57.241-04:00Oy, I've been taggedYes, <a href="http://findingsara.wordpress.com/">Sara</a>, you're right. I generally don't do memes. But since you tagged so nicely...<br /><br />The Rules-<br />* Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.<br />* Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.<br />* Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.<br />* Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />5. I've sung professionally before, which is really weird, since I hate the spotlight. I don't plan to ever do it again.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-67814082910504247722008-10-24T13:47:00.003-04:002008-10-24T14:11:29.812-04:00Void 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <em>be</em> a "T." There must be a strict definition of the rule so that I can remain firmly within its limits. <br /><br /><em>How long is too long?</em> I wanted to ask. <em>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?</em><br /><br />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 <em>do</em> want them, though I admit that you'd never know it from my behavior. <br /><br />So I'm not quite sure what to do now, other than resist the temptation to never let the dogs outside at all...Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-12850769210610020662008-09-19T20:45:00.003-04:002008-09-19T21:02:39.684-04:00I Got a LickingI owe you all an apology for my silence lately. But I assure you, I've been truly punished lately. <br /><br />Several nights ago, I got my first ass licking.<br /><br />It was on my bare bottom.<br /><br />On my wet bare bottom.<br /><br />I was shaken.<br /><br />I cried.<br /><br />Hard.<br /><br />I never want it to happen again.<br /><br />Which is why, from now on, I will be closing the bathroom door completely when I go for my shower. Because my cat enjoys the shower way more than a cat should. And when I'm not careful, he sneaks in. <br /><br />The other night I was washing my hair, oblivious to the stealthy little devil. Attracted to the water dripping off of me (he seriously LOVES water - the little freak), he apparently couldn't resist the temptation of licking some off of my ass. <br /><br />I was so startled that I screamed bloody murder and scared poor Red half to death. And then, for reasons I don't entirely understand, I burst into tears.<br /><br />So I hope you will all forgive me my negligence. I have been truly punished.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-38382276279975568972008-07-29T15:19:00.004-04:002008-07-29T15:45:02.375-04:00Self WaxingYou know, you can be an educated person and be a complete idiot. I realize most of you probably know that, but for those who may not have known, I am living proof of this. <br /><br />Like many women out there, I prefer hairlessness. It is not really a sexual thing for me... more of a germophobic, a-bald-snatch-seems-cleaner kind of a thing. The fact that Red prefers me this way is just a happy bonus. <br /><br />But shaving my lady parts can be difficult. I've cut myself before, and that's not a pretty sight. Plus there is the stubble and the itchiness. I always thought I'd like to try Brazilian waxing, but I had never tried it for several reasons, mainly 1) can't find a place that does it, 2) I fear it would be too expensive for too short a period of hairlessness, and 3) I'm just too darn embarrassed to pay a complete stranger to do something like that.<br /><br />So imagine my happy surprise when I found that SurgiWax makes a <a href="http://www.folica.com/Surgi_Wax_Brazi_d1940.html">Brazilian waxing kit</a> that you can do yourself in the privacy of your own home. And it was affordable! So I bought the kit and took it home and eagerly tried it out.<br /><br />Oh.<br /><br />My.<br /><br />God.<br /><br />The government should use this stuff in place of waterboarding. If I had any state secrets, I'd have been screaming them to the four corners of the world. <br /><br />I've heard great things about Brazilian waxing. But this is definitely something that you should not do yourself. First of all, it is immensely painful, and convincing yourself to rip off a clump of wax (which is what you wind up with - clumps of wax, not nice neat strips) is difficult to do. Taking three ibuprophen in advance did nothing to make it any easier on me. It is difficult to see what you're doing, the wax winds up getting everywhere, and after all of the effort, you still don't manage to get all the hair. You get most of it, sure. But not all.<br /><br />But, you say, you're not an idiot. Anyone would have thought this was a good idea and tried it. And you're right about that.<br /><br />But would an idiot have done it three more times after that?<br /><br />I have got to find a better way.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-16213208253182818832008-07-21T15:20:00.002-04:002008-07-21T15:35:00.777-04:00Spankings HurtI know what you're thinking. "<em>DUH</em>," if you're a bottom, and if you're a top, the ever-annoying "Spankings are <em>supposed</em> to hurt." Grr. <br /><br />I know that they hurt, and that they are supposed to hurt. But lately spankings <em>really</em> hurt, if you know what I mean. <br /><br />I haven't had many, which is probably a large part of the problem. I know my bottom has basically become virgin again. But spankings now actually hurt worse than when my bottom was virgin for real. Handspankings leave me gasping, and even if they are brief they leave me with at least a little lasting soreness. <br /><br />Red has given me a couple handspankings, and one evening about a week ago, he ordered me to pull down my pajama bottoms and panties for a spanking. I was less than thrilled by the prospect. He was digging around in our toy box and emerged with a London Tanners strap that I had mercifully forgotten that we owned. <br /><br />I didn't want the spanking. I wasn't afraid of it. He'd made it clear that it wasn't punishment and I wasn't in trouble. But I knew it would hurt and not in any kind of good way. But I also wasn't going to argue with him. I agreed to submit to spankings whenever he decided they were necessary. So I stood up and began to lower my pants.<br /><br />But then he stopped me. He could see the truth in my face - that I didn't, <em>really didn't</em>, want the spanking. <br /><br />I apologized to him, which he insisted was unnecessary. I don't know if it is hormones, or stress, or what, but spankings don't feel the same to me right now. <br /><br />I want spankings. At least, I want to want them. <br /><br />I don't know what is going on with me right now.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-65664310354046255072008-06-07T11:27:00.004-04:002008-06-14T19:39:55.001-04:00Good surprisesSometimes my wonderful husband really amazes me. Sometimes I am actually shocked by how generous, understanding, and accepting he is. Sometimes I wonder what on earth I did to deserve him.<br /><br />Red and I have certainly been having our share of ups and downs lately. Even though we've been married more than five years now, I guess I still react to our difficulties as if they were conflicts happening between my parents. My parents (whom I love very much) were disasters as parents, and as a married couple. (By "parents" I'm referring to my mother and the stepfather she was married to during my teen years. He was the only one of her husbands with whom I developed any kind of father/daughter relationship. He passed away suddenly several years ago.)<br /><br />My parents were drunks. I remember one time, early in their marriage, they'd been out all night drinking with friends. They didn't come home, and my stepdad's kids (who were younger than me) were at the house with me for his visitation time. I didn't know where they were. I was trying not to panic because his kids were there and I didn't want to frighten them. I was always hyperaware of how close my parents were constantly putting themselves to death. <br /><br />Finally, somewhere around 10-11 the next morning, I got a phone call from my stepdad. He was drunk again/still. He and my mother had apparently argued, and she left. The only thing he said when I answered was "Tell your mother I said GOODBYE." To me, it was clear that he meant permanently. Now, they didn't divorce. But I, knowing that I was basically at his mercy, had already accepted homelessness and packed up my car by the time they both arrived home. Mom had begun packing too by the time he settled down and agreed to talk about the situation.<br /><br />I tell this story only to explain that to me, needing another person is dangerous. You never know how easily you can be thrown away. That wasn't the only time my stepfather threw me out of the house. Because he was always drunk, it took literally nothing from me to make him angry. I know now that he was basically making up reasons to get angry with me so that he could justify his drinking to himself. But there were times when I'd literally be woken up in the morning by his rage. Sometime during the night he would have found something I'd done (like parking the car crookedly in the driveway) that would send him into a rage. <br /><br />I think one of the major reasons why I am so attracted to the idea of discipline in my marriage is that it gives a structure for dealing with conflict that is predictable. It has boundaries. It helps me feel safe that I'll never be thrown out of my own house, that Red will never break down the bedroom door at night because I parked the car wrong. I know how conflict will be handled now. It will be handled by talking, and possibly by discipline. <br /><br />However, I fear sometimes that this is asking too much of Red. I feel like I'm telling him, "You must deal with your emotions on <em>my</em> terms. And then once discipline occurs, you must let it go forever." I know that I would have an extremely hard time if he told me how he wanted me to deal with my emotions. <br /><br />Earlier this week, Red and I were in the car together on a long drive to a business meeting that we both had to attend. I told him about this concern and how I'm not sure what to do about it. I mean, this predictability is a major benefit of domestic discipline for me, and if I cannot rely on it, then I don't think I'd want to continue down this path. <br /><br />As I explained my feelings to him, I was bracing myself for him to say something like, "You're absolutely right. It's completely unfair to me. You are asking way too much of me. How dare you try to dictate how I deal with my feelings with you." <br /><br />Instead, Red shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and said, "I know. It's okay. I accept it."<br /><br />I admit to expressing disbelief at this point.<br /><br />Then he explained, "Look, it is what you need. And to be honest, exercising the authority you've given me will help me. I've been sick for a year and a half. Having control in our relationship helps me to feel like I have some control over my own life."<br /><br />And that was it. No explosions. No arguments. No tossing me out of the car on the side of the highway. Just complete acceptance.<br /><br />I've never experienced this before, but I like it. I hope I'll be able to get used to it.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-49208452508612789762008-06-06T19:55:00.003-04:002008-06-06T20:01:34.324-04:00Question for Other BloggersI've been getting some seriously creepy emails. I've gotten some that are clearly just looking for me to link to their websites and probably have never actually read mine at all. <br /><br />I've gotten others, though, like one I got today, that are particularly creepy. I find them particularly creepy because I can't tell what the author is looking for. It may be that it is just some pervert looking for details about my sex life, but the email I got today also talked about Christianity and DD. Somehow the author has gotten the impression that I am submissive to my husband because of my religious beliefs, which simply isn't the case. <br /><br />I should probably blow this off, but it is just so icky. Any suggestions as to what I should do?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-12750388359175235162008-05-27T12:02:00.004-04:002008-05-27T12:19:25.424-04:00I'm in a bookI'm in a book. I can't believe I forgot to mention that. It's called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Being-Virtual-Who-Really-Online/dp/0470723629/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1211904002&sr=8-1">Being Virtual</a>, by Davey Winder.<br /><br />A while ago, maybe a year or so ago, someone posted on ASSville about their friend who was writing a book, who was interested in interviewing people from the group. So, I contacted Mr. Winder and ended up exchanging emails with him for a while. I was under the impression that there would be more spankos in the book, but I'm half way through reading it, and so far, I'm the only one. <br /><br />I had a panicky moment when I realized that the book had been released. Contacting Mr. Winder was totally out of character for me. Although I insisted that he use a pseudonym for me in the book, I still felt like I outted myself to the world. Not to mention, I gave him a TON of personal information. I had completely trusted him to not hurt me... not something that I do easily.<br /><br />But it paid off. Mr. Winder handled my portion of the story, as well as all the other stories that I've read so far, with grace, insight, and compassion. He didn't make me look like a twisted pervert. He even made me look at myself a bit differently, more gently.<br /><br />He also made me realize how incredibly lucky I am to have an online community like this... The other bloggers and forum members with whom I established acquaintances have given me a great deal of comfort. You've all helped me feel like a "normal" person. You've helped me to see that I'm not alone in a world that tends to ignore people like me... I'm an introvert, an abuse survivor, a sexual deviant (for lack of a better term)... I don't easily make friends. I don't easily trust people. <br /><br />So, thank you, to all of you who have reached out and made contact with me. It means more than you know.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-62516203308528527262008-05-24T16:54:00.003-04:002008-05-24T17:14:03.795-04:00Desperate MeasuresAs they say, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."<br /><br />Various issues have kept Red and I from engaging in the kind of play, or the kind of discipline arrangement, that we both seem to want. I've gone back and forth between having a sense of humor about my frustrations and feeling totally hopeless and angry.<br /><br />Back when I had a better sense of humor about the attention that I was not receiving, I made this tshirt:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQvPAR6U2OX40-835mfBLqOrE4YgZ4MquZhwxSh7lR-lm8U35XTST8e9907VxI658JpAkIYscMChjE8tE4fBB7N1lhBV4t8VuwOTIEDS2-WmezdhCYqrc_bRMAmWjnAGOPcWqtLJ6QOmC/s1600-h/Desperate+Measures+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQvPAR6U2OX40-835mfBLqOrE4YgZ4MquZhwxSh7lR-lm8U35XTST8e9907VxI658JpAkIYscMChjE8tE4fBB7N1lhBV4t8VuwOTIEDS2-WmezdhCYqrc_bRMAmWjnAGOPcWqtLJ6QOmC/s320/Desperate+Measures+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204050901236931634" /></a><br /><br />Only to discover that Red was not wearing his glasses that day and could not read it.<br /><br />Then, a couple weeks ago, Red and I were perusing our local Target store when I saw these: <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNTNpuz6NZRrZ_UjfHLFdOsu2WgIjgBTWoI0ynwHhYN8YNfW5M6ohXtU53F2kvw_m04HbXIuE5KBnt7dTy8f6caSkVs_a9iH57EP9lNoP4n-tAzKnUVJMUxkesvL-p_JFJhl7QdBRSbtk/s1600-h/Desperate+Measures+002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNTNpuz6NZRrZ_UjfHLFdOsu2WgIjgBTWoI0ynwHhYN8YNfW5M6ohXtU53F2kvw_m04HbXIuE5KBnt7dTy8f6caSkVs_a9iH57EP9lNoP4n-tAzKnUVJMUxkesvL-p_JFJhl7QdBRSbtk/s320/Desperate+Measures+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204052941346397250" /></a><br /><br />and was reminded of <a href="http://asparkle2.blogspot.com/2006/07/orange-socks.html">this post</a>, by Sparkle, in which she talks about using socks as a signal. I put the socks in the basket and quickly explained my thinking to Red. He agreed, apparently grateful to have some indication of when he <em>should</em> spank me.<br /><br />I wore them the next day, for a couple of hours. I propped my feet up on the couch, and wiggled my feet when Red was near me. I swear he looked right at them once. But alas, they didn't work either. There was no spanking that evening, and when I later talked to Red about it, he explained that he simply hadn't noticed the socks.<br /><br />I suppose it is for the best, though. Both times, I felt wrong about trying to signal him in that way. It is extremely important to me that I feel he is in control when he spanks me. I need to feel like it is his decision. Signalling feels like I'm topping from the bottom, which takes an important emotional element away for me. <br /><br />Still, I feel like there are times when I <strong>need</strong> to be spanked. I wish there were some way that I could trigger a spanking without having to be in control of the situation.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-25684063063375699402008-05-10T16:14:00.004-04:002008-05-10T16:43:15.524-04:00Update/ConfessionAgain, I'm still here. I've been quiet lately. I don't exactly know why. I have been sort of depressed lately. Red's illness had been getting better but then worsened again lately. Nothing fatal or anything, but he's experiencing a lot of pain. We're working with pain doctors now to try to come up with something that can help to eliminate or at least manage his pain.<br /><br />Honestly, though, I haven't been writing much because I just feel like I don't have anything useful to say. I don't want my blog readers to get bored by listening to me whine about my problems and my insecurities, so I've stayed quiet. There has been no spanking around here lately. Red and I have talked about it some, but I'm starting to think that maybe this isn't something that will work out for us in the long term. <br /><br />My spanking mojo seems to have disappeared, as had any inkling of a desire I might have had to be submissive. Lately I've been frustrated as hell that I can't be the dominant one in this relationship. The other day I told Red from between clenched teeth, "Are you sure you don't want to be the submissive one in the relationship? Because I sure as hell can think of plenty of reasons to spank you." Frankly, if he isn't going to be dominant, then I just want him to do what he is told!<br /><br />One of Red's issues is that he apparently can't think of any reasons to spank me. He can, apparently, think of plenty of reasons to be annoyed with me, but he never spanks for anything anymore. When he does want to spank, it seems like all he wants to do is play at it. As much as I love play spanking, lately it just grates on my nerves because I'm not getting what I need emotionally from it. I don't get any kind of emotional release from it. It doesn't make me feel submissive. It doesn't make me feel more connected to him. It just makes me feel like an ass to spank. <br /><br />I get jealous sometimes when I read my favorite blog writers. I know you all have problems of your own. But I feel alone with my problems. I feel like Red and I have lost a major part of our connection. I haven't felt submissive in a long time. I haven't been properly spanked in a very long time. I hate myself because whenever I open my mouth (or my keyboard, actually), I end up sounding like a whiner, and I say negative things about Red. I don't want to bash Red. He's a good man. <br /><br />But I find myself thinking... why can't we be more like <a href="http://findingsara.wordpress.com/">Sara and Grant</a>, or <a href="http://asparkle2.blogspot.com/">Sparkle</a> and <a href="http://firemnchris.blogspot.com/">Chris</a>? <br /><br />What a terrible thing to think, when I have wonderful man at home. He's good to me. He's honest, honorable, and trustworthy. I really do love him so much. So, why am I so unhappy?<br /><br />I'm ashamed of myself, and I don't like exposing the ugliness in my head to the world. But I know I've been MIA, and an email this morning from a fellow blogger made me realize that I probably should post something to let everyone know that I'm still alive. <br /><br />I'm still alive.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-48565626220603059062008-04-27T17:33:00.003-04:002008-04-27T17:37:26.208-04:00Grumble, GrumbleRed says that I can't stay in bed wallowing in depression. He says I can either get up and do something or I can get spanked.<br /><br />So, I'm up and doing something. I'm grumbling about what a butthead he is. <br /><br />I'd rather be in bed right now.<br /><br />But I'm not in bed right now, and do you know why?<br /><br />That's right. Because Red is a butthead.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-52454637808173790312008-04-10T12:22:00.002-04:002008-04-10T12:40:38.422-04:00I'm still here...Hello all... This is a "Don't worry about me, I'm still alive" post. I'm not sure why I've been so quiet lately except that I've just not been feeling inspired to post. There have not been many spankings around here, although things look like they'll be picking up again soon, as Red seems to be feeling more comfortable with the power that I've given him. We'll see what happens...<br /><br />I have read the (in)famous Wakeman article. I, too, should be posting a response to it. I put the article aside so that I could do some mental processing. I'd like to reread it one more time before I formulate a response. Here's hoping I can quit being so damn lazy about posting!<br /><br />I've received some comments on older posts lately. For those who've commented, I've finally managed to post responses to you. Please don't think that I'm ungrateful. I really am so happy to have readers who find something that they can relate to here and/or about which they feel inspired to comment. <br /><br />So, I guess this is it for now. I hope all of you are doing well. I hope to be posting again soon. I certainly plan on it! I guess this is as good a reason as any for Red and I to start fooling around more... Wish me luck!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-61792916330218265022008-03-10T07:01:00.003-04:002008-03-10T07:48:19.420-04:00_____ and PunishmentI hope that this post makes sense. Not only am I confused about the topic myself, but I'm awake earlier than I should be thanks to a kitten who decided that nibbling on my fingertips was an absolutely irresistible idea.<br /><br />I've had this internal debate going on in my head for a while. Sometimes I wonder if spanking is a healthy thing for me. The thing is, I have this guilt that builds up in me that is unattached to any real crime. I'm not sure where this comes from except for a desire to be perfect that I cannot possibly fulfill.<br /><br />Sometimes, an intense desire to be punished creeps up inside of me. When I tell Red how I feel, he always asks me if I've done something wrong. I never really have an answer to that... Oh, it's a bunch of things. Maybe I ought to have stayed awake just a little bit longer the day before so that I could have unloaded the clean dishes from the dishwasher. Or maybe I forgot to return a phone call to someone. Little things that happen more because I'm <em>human</em> than because I'm <em>bad</em>.<br /><br />I've heard that so many people experience guilt relief after they've been punished. I can't say that I ever have. I'm not sure if this is because I'm a black hole of guilt and no amount of punishment could ever balance it out. Or maybe because Red never really punishes me, so I can't reach that elysium.<br /><br />Red tends to shy away from punishing me for a few reasons. The main one being that he is afraid of reinforcing my unreasonable guilt. He doesn't want it to be an affirmation to me that I am "bad." He also has trouble getting upset with the things that I feel guilty over because he believes that I am just being too hard on myself. <br /><br />I get angry with him sometimes over this. A while ago I asked him, "Are you waiting for me to murder someone?" I am generally a good girl. I can't help that. And I don't feel like I should be forced to purposely do something bad in order to be punished. I've been tempted, but I just can't bring myself to do so. So, I'm left unable to experience whatever benefits punishment might ultimately offer.<br /><br />On the other hand, I share his fear. My guilt is so bad now... What if it got <em>worse</em> as a result of punishment? What if he punishes me just as hard as he safely can, and I just end up feeling more guilty than before because now <em>he</em> thinks I'm bad too?<br /><br />Is there a guiltless elysium waiting for me just on the other side of a thorough punishment? Is there relief to be reached on the other side of all these raging emotions? <br /><br />I've grown up feeling like I needed to put a cork on my emotions because life was already too unpredictable and I couldn't afford to rock the boat (which was already leaking and sinking quite fast). Sometimes it makes a hell of a lot of sense to me that I'd feel so much better if I could safely allow all of this fear and anger and guilt (reasonable or not) to come flooding out of me, and that I'd be so much safer in doing so with Red's support. It would be a new experience to have someone there who would love me and take care of me through all that.<br /><br />On the other hand, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I am an endless pit of anxieties and ugly feelings and no matter how much pours out of me, there will always be that much and more still there. <br /><br />Is it really even fair to ask Red to take all that on?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4181761213124309364.post-80660696577498935032008-02-22T10:38:00.002-05:002008-02-22T10:43:03.256-05:00Testing?Ok, I'm still fairly new to blogging so I could be doing something very very stupid...<br /><br />I've posted comments on others' blogs today, but when trying to post a comment on my own to reply to someone else's, it isn't letting me! I'm wondering now if it'll let me post a regular post. If anyone knows what the heck is up with this, please let me know.<br /><br />ARGH!<br /><br />Well, sorry for the boring post, but I'm trying to figure this thing out. Oh, and I guess just so that I can save the text of this response somewhere, I'll stick it on the bottom of this for now.<br /><br />In regards to comments on "Men in Uniform:"<br /><br />Sparkle and Chris,<br /><br />Please forgive me for taking so long to respond to this... my own embarrassment over it has made it difficult. <br /><br />Sparkle - I'm utterly tickled that out of 741 posts, my blog stood out enough to be worth a read through. That made my day. :)<br /><br />Chris - Thank you for your understanding. This little issue of mine has been particularly concerning to me because I've recently learned that my neice is also afraid of firemen. A fireman came to her school and she was fine when he was out of uniform, but had a meltdown when he put his uniform on. Also, she's autistic, and from what I've heard, a lot of autistic children tend to hide in closets and under beds during house fires because all of the chaos is too overstimulating to them. So it is <i>really really</i> important to me that she knows to run <i>toward</i> a fireman instead of away. So I know that I need to get this problem under control NOW. How can I help teach her not to be afraid when I so clearly am?<br />Anyway, thanks to you both. :)<br /><br />RoseRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14729019275679534785noreply@blogger.com1