Ranting Again

Why does it seem that the women of all the blogs I read and even the ones I come into direct contact with have more than enough money and time to get all pampered and buy special things and do fun activities that cost.. well.. MONEY? Maybe it just seems so glaring to me right now because I have ... well.. none. And I'm floundering, fighting against a ton of jealousy. Trying to keep that "positive attitude" that's included in my contract and be a good sub and a good mother and student and... whatever else I have to be for the day. A good me. But dammit it's HARD. Because of my location, I'm isolated. Because of my schedule, I'm isolated. Because of my lack of money, I'm isolated. It's no one's fault and I know it'll take time to be fixed, but dammit... I'm beyond tired of it right now.

A break would be nice. To not get chastised for being negative. For using my ever present sarcastic defenses.... For saying "really???" one too many times. I know I brought these things on myself, but I need a way to express my frustration. I usually get it out by over reacting to the little things. Example: stupid song comes on pandora.. I had just thumbs downed one almost exactly like it two songs before. Reaction? "Really??  Seriously?? Sheesh!" I get frowned at at the very least. And oh wait.. I'm supposed to reduce my use of the word stupid applying to nonthinking things... well crap. I say I want a break.. but really I don't think I do. I want more consistency. If I can't say those things then... I should get the frown EVERY time... not just when he's tired or fed up with someone else saying such things. Such as with cursing. He's not been reacting happily to my using curse words lately, but when I ask him if he doesn't want me to use such words so I can make a conscious effort NOT to use those words... he says no.. so what's the solution here? I don't like his frown. I'd much rather have his smile...

I've considered attempting to alter my speech on my own, but every time I think of doing that, I remember that we're suppposed to be in this together. I want the instruction.. I NEED the instruction. and for it to come from him. I know that doesn't make sense to some but it's the way my brain works, I suppose. Words have a lot of meaning for me. I used to be more particular about the ones I use, and I still am when I'm in mixed company, but with E I often just let my mouth run with my mind and ramble on and on and on and on. It seems to be fairly unique to him as I don't do that with anyone else really. I may ramble, but with E there's no filter. I suppose I expect him to correct me if I say something he doesn't approve of.. instead I get that... frown.

I read other submissive women's writings and I have to fight that jealousy monster again. I see where they've written about their Dominant counterparts correcting them and how frustrated they feel about it and yet they obviously appreciate it... and I just get more frustrated. The fact that I can't currently live with E is a factor, I know, but even when I'm with him alone for weekends... I dunno. Maybe I'm expecting too much. I do that often. 

Ah well. Time for me to head to class. Maybe a solution will present itself soon. 

~Surri 

In this house…

There is no respect for any of my decisions in this house.  Today everyone here has belittled me and/or rebelled against me. My mother has treated me much disregard. My children have ignored my instruction to the point of open defiance, forcing me to discipline them, which eventually brought them to tears, which infuriate my father who actually had the audacity to question if I knew any other method of getting my children to do anything other than spanking them. 

He who spanked me until I was 14. He who broke the paddle on my butt. He who repeatedly used the OH so despised line “This hurts you more than it hurts me.” He who spanked me for voicing my opinion, claiming it was “talking back”. He who took belt, switch, and paddle to me for the tone of my voice or a C in math class. This man DARES to ask me if I know no better way to control my children than to spank them.

I am rebuked for raising my voice to my children, yet he does so both to them and to me. I am preached to about how time outs don’t work time and time again when I choose that method of discipline. He asks me repeatedly if I enjoy hearing my children cry. They’re almost 4 and 5. They’re going to cry some. Over and over again I am made to feel like I am a horrible mother… in THIS house.  And yet, at church I am praised for how I handle my children. E’s mom has humbled me more than once by saying I am a wonderful mother. Even my ex-husband praises my parenting. When I’m out of this house, I can almost believe them, but, when your own parents so disdain you, it makes it difficult to believe. 

Sometimes I feel as if this house is consuming me. Every episode of this evident display of scorn, trapping me a bit more, more firmly ensuring my position here… Sometimes I feel like Cinderella. 

“Do the laundry. Make the dinner, but do it MY way. Sweep the floors. You missed some here. Take out the garbage. Wash my car. It’s streaky; do it again. Beat the rugs. NO, like this. Where’s your dad’s other sock? Dust the furniture. There’s dust on the floor, sweep it up. That couch is too far to the right, move it back. Mop the floors. You put the chair back in the wrong place, fix it. Hang the clothes, no not that way. That shirt’s backwards. These pants are on the wrong hanger. This shirt is wrinkled; did you leave the clothes in the dryer again? YOU HAVE TO DO BETTER.” All still circling in my head. Never good enough.

I still have the time my mother made me scrub the bathroom floor with a toothbrush vivid in my memory… and I’m still waiting for it to happen again. I’m 25 years old and my parents alternately treat me like a troublesome preteen, a lack wit servant, and an utter failure and disappointment. Ever so rare is the shining jewel of a grudging compliment… usually on my food. My mother has even deigned to call me a whore simply because I’m fond of high heels.  

If I decide to pursue school again, I am told that I don’t give it my all and that I should try harder. If I decide to not to pursue school again, then I’m told that I’ll never make it in life. I’m repeatedly told that I’m lazy and selfish and sometimes I just want to evolve into the doormat they attempt to make me, but I know how that ends. 

Six years ago I made a foolish attempt at marriage to escape this, and yet found the same, but worse, in the man that I had chosen to marry. I divorced him so that my children could grow up without seeing their mother put down every day. I divorced him to spare them the anger and the violence in their father’s derision of me. I fled so I could stop being the doormat, and yet here I am again. 

If I leave this house, my parents’ financial support stops. They’ve made that clear. I have no job. No degree. Little in the way of income from child support and I know of no other relatives that would take my children and myself in. My mother has come to recognize that their behavior is affecting my children and has done a bit better, but my dad refuses to admit that he has anger issues. He rejects the idea that there are other ways than his that are affective. 

I don’t know how to alter this situation. Some days are actually nice. Some months are actually pleasant… and then I do something to set things off again… either that or they can no longer ignore my blatant incompetence. I try to keep the kids shielded from it as best I can and they seem to only know that Grampa is angry and shouts a lot. I didn’t want this for them. I didn’t want this for me. Acknowledging that I’ll never make my parents proud is hard enough without my children having to witness their grandparents’ disappointment in me. 

I count the days and the pennies now…  Two years. Just two more years. Please GOD just two more years until we can escape this house, finances right now just won’t allow it… hopefully by the time my son is in kindergarten that won’t be so. 

P.S.: Yes, I know this is a rant, but I had to get this out and just leaving it in a Word document on my computer didn't seem like it was enough.

Exploring My Submission: Journaling Exercise #10

Does any element of BDSM occur as a part of your submissive relationships? How do you feel about BDSM? Is it core to your submission, peripheral or non-existent (other than the submission part)?

Yeah. BDSM is a part of my relationship. E is pretty active in the local kinky community and I would be if I had more opportunity. Bondage is a yes, I love rope in particular but I enjoy pretty much any kind of bondage… at least all the types I’ve tried. Discipline is in there too. Dominance and submission obviously play a big role in our relationship. Sadomasochism is there as well. So I suppose we have the whole shebang. hahaha

As far as its importance, I know that one day I probably won’t be so keen on E purpling my butt with bruises and that one day he probably won’t be able to. There will be a time when his fingers can no longer tie the knots and I can no longer kneel or stand still long enough for him to bind me (that’s an issue already lol!). Despite that, the Dominance and submission and even discipline, I feel, will remain. 

So, some aspects of it are integral to my submission, but others… time will eventually push them aside. It’s not all whips and chains and blood and pain, though those are sometimes included. In that complex acronym there is a way of living, a way of thinking that is, to me, beautiful and that lasts much longer than the mere moments of pain or bondage. 

Exploring My Submission: Journaling Exercises #7, #8 and #9

Do you accept and/or expect discipline or punishments as a part of your submission? How do you feel about it?

Absolutely. I feel that I need the discipline and/or punishments because it keeps my mindset in place, and because I have such issues with my self control that such consequences make me better behaved. Without it, I tend to return to a self focus and that is something I do not like. I am immensely happier when focused on serving and not on what I want because listening to what I want most of the time would have unpleasant results on my attitude, my relationships, my weight, my health and my appearance. 

If I go by what I want, I may want to sit on the couch and chow down on an entire pack of Oreos instead of doing laundry, knowing that it’s not good for me... wait... I have done that… If I didn’t have the punishment, my self-discipline would disappear pretty quickly and I’d most likely just do what I wanted, even knowing that it’s not good for me. Because I know that doing so would get me in trouble with E, it is immensely easier for me to resist that temptation. I need the accountability because, alone, I can talk myself into or out of damn near anything whether it’s helpful or harmful.

Is spanking or corporal punishment a part of your submission? Why or why not?

Yes. I may consider myself masochistic, but with the attitude of displeasure and intent of punishment behind pain, it can cause even something I enjoy to bring repentant tears.

Do you accept and/or expect structure, rules and limits as a part of your submission? How do you feel about them?

Definitely. I need structure and rules and limits are there for safety. I need to know what’s expected of me and what I can expect from my Dominant. If I don’t, I don’t feel comfortable at all. Structure is something I’ve always sought, I think. I am, by nature a rather chaotic individual and I recognize my need for regularity and routine as well as known consequences and results for expected actions…. If that makes any sense whatsoever.

I need the reassurance of the “If/then” statements and feel  much more secure when I am aware of my fence. I may bump against it from time to time, I may even shove at it, jump it, or attempt to rip it to shreds, but I need it and I prefer for it to bump me rather than for me to bump it. I need to know how much is too much and I don’t want to have to be or do too much in order for me to find out.

I need rules (shh don’t tell the adolescent me…) because without them, I feel lost. They’re the links in the chain connecting me to my Anchor and without them, I’d be totally adrift, just floating there, waiting for the waves of change that life tosses my way to overwhelm me and leave me directionless and wandering.