I wanted to give you a bit of an update, tell you what's on my mind, maybe kinda picked up where we left off. And I'm looking forward to catching up a bit!
Last week, Jason gave me permission to come back. Honestly, I wasn't ready. I had to think about it. I had to decide how I was going to go about following the guidelines he gave me when we decided it was time to come back. I've been mulling and hemming and hawing, and now I think I'm ready.
It sounds like it's kind of a big deal, and honestly? It is. Because the past few weeks have been some of the most challenging I've ever faced. And I want to tread lightly with what I'm about to share, while I also maintain honesty. I also don't want to get too heavy. After all, I view blogging sort of the way I'd view sitting around drinking coffee with friends.
I've been asked why we decided a break was necessary. There are a variety of reasons, and the simplest, best way to describe the reasoning is this. I needed to take the focus off of DS and put it back on me and Jason. I'd met some friends, and gotten e-mails, and found my thoughts consumed with how DS colored our lives, and I needed that to stop. And, it did.
Things had all become too much. I had too many rules. I was getting into too much trouble. I was spending too much time focusing on DS. I had too many things I was doing.
We were both getting overwhelmed. We needed to stop, take long look at where we were going, and simplify things. Focus on what was important.
The first week or two, the relief from the break was almost instantaneous. It was hard to see e-mails coming in, and not being able to respond. Jason was strict about it. I wasn't allowed to respond to messages, or read blogs, or even read books that had any type of DS element. But after the band-aid was ripped off, it felt good. Jason and I evaluated our rules. We talked and talked about us. And we came up with some solutions to simplify things, and help us both focus on what was most important to us.
Things were wonderful. Really and truly, fantastic. Our dynamic was never stronger. I went weeks without serious trouble. We were thriving.
And the second week in, I got news that changed my life forever. It changed me. It changed Jason. It changed us. It was a Wednesday, I think, early in the morning, when I got the phone call that my dad was killed in a tragic accident.
I wasn't sure if I was going to share that on the blog. But I decided I couldn't not share what happened, because it impacted our DS dynamic so heavily, and will continue to do so.
There is nothing that can prepare you for the loss of someone you love, especially a sudden and unexpected loss.
When I first got the news, I was devastated. I walked around in a sort of fog, the phone ringing, answering calls, making some of my own, crying, trying to get ahold of Jason. It took a short time to get him. I could barely speak. I finally somehow choked out the news and he said very little except I'm on my way.
I told him I was okay, he had to work, but he insisted and was home minutes later. He dropped everything. He was my rock. He watched the kids, ordered pizza, held me when I cried, let me nap, did the grocery shopping with me, fielded phone calls, and basically took the very best care of me that he could. He was my strength when I was down.
I told him, when he and I came back from my dad's services, I was so, so glad we'd had such a strong DS dynamic in place when everything happened. It was such an amazing blessing, really. He took complete charge over everything and reminded me, "Just do what I say." I didn't have to worry about money, or my children, or the house, or timing. He handled everything. When he told me to do something, I did it, instinctively, automatically, without question. It was the simplest, most natural thing to do. My rules were like a safety net, and he went over them, never neglecting our check-in, every single day.
I began to suffer anxiety attacks (which, fortunately, have significantly subsided). I've never had these before, but they were scary. Things would trigger certain emotions, and I couldn't breathe.
The first one hit in a supermarket. I didn't know what was happening, but he stepped away for a minute, and the next thing I knew, I felt like I had to run away. I couldn't stand the people all around me. I wanted to ball up in a corner and cover my face and block the sounds and noises out. He was there and I whispered, "I can't do this," and the next thing I knew his hands were on my shoulders, forehead pressed up against mine, as he talked me through it, soft words that pulled me out of the darkness I was in, and helped me finish what we were doing.
One particular night was awful. He sat on the couch next to me, holding both of my hands in his, his voice the only thing I concentrated on. "Just do what I say," he said softly. "Count backwards with me, out loud, from ten. You can breathe now. Just relax and do what I say." I did, and slowly my breathing came back to normal as he massaged my hands and talked to me, slowly, and softly, like one would speak to a child waking from a nightmare. The airport ride home was particularly challenging...again, the anxiety consumed me when I least expected it. I felt faint, like the walls were closing in on me. He knew without me telling him how I felt, and he quietly, without a word, carried my bags and held my hand, led me to a quiet place and helped me breathe again.
I did forget things, at times. My mind was elsewhere. He gave me lots of leeway and told me he understood that I would forget some things,and he wouldn't hold me accountable for that.
A few days after all of this went down, I started getting short-tempered and irritable. He warned me a few times, and tried to reign it in. I lost my temper with my children at one point. I snapped at Jason. I was on edge. He told me he understood how I was feeling, and that my irritation and short temper were understandable. We talked...I thanked him for being merciful...and told him I needed things to be back to normal. I wanted the same expectations again. He said he understood.
The very next day, he spanked me for disobeying him. I remember he said, "Now is the most important time you've ever had to obey me, because I'm protecting you." I was worried that I would feel devastated, as I hate to be punished, and I was already at a low point. But I didn't feel that way. I felt...relief. His dominance brings me comfort. I'm happiest when I'm in my "happy submissive place." We both are.
And so, we went right back to where we always were -- no, that's not quite true. We're better, really. Stronger. Closer.
A week or two ago, things started to get a bit easier to bear. I started feeling happiness again. I started smiling again, and being able to laugh. And it felt good.
It's good to be back.