Deep Breath

So I'm probably going to post this and then go hide for two or three days because I'll be so nervous/embarrassed that I won't want to face B. and J. Forewarned is forearmed, etc., etc.

I don't know how to word this, so it may come off awkward and goofy-sounding. I apologize in advance.

I've been doing lots of thinking lately, and I've told the Owner-people that I really want to do the slave thing more often. That I think I would be happy being an all-the-time slave-girl instead of just an occasional one.

One of my deepest, darkest secrets, one that I never share with anyone, is that I've imagined being a slave since before I was even old enough to start school. There was sexual service, obviously, and that was a big part of the fantasy. But that was hardly all of it. It was actually pretty elaborate for a little girl's fantasy.

But, naturally, I buried that particular imagining as I got older. Even when I was little, I sensed that other people didn't think about stuff like that, and as I aged, I realized that people took enough advantage of me as it was, so I should probably try to change that part of me.

Insert a whole bunch of irrelevant drivel about my life and how I turned evil to keep people away from me, etc., etc.

Anyway, now that I think about it, I see that I've been unconsciously trying pretty much every tactic known to man to get J. and B. to send me away. Looking at this site, I see a sense of fear pervades pretty much all my blog posts. And it's not fear of whatever it was I was saying I was afraid of at the time. Well, it was, I guess, but that fear is simply a symptom of a much larger problem.

I have been afraid of who I am for nigh on 20+ years.

Even as a little girl, I knew I was very weird for what I wanted, and I guess I've been trying to hide it ever since.

I need certain things (and people) very deeply. I'll do things for others that I won't do for me. I'll just drift along mindlessly my whole life unless someone intervenes. Thing is, I'm stubborn, and I'll just ignore anyone whose opinions I don't care very deeply about, which I suppose is contradictory to the very nature I'm implying that I have here, but whatever.

I have a degree in psychology. I know I could probably diagnosed with a host of personality disorders from this post alone. But I really don't feel as if there's anything wrong with this "me," assuming we set aside the assumption that the nuttiest people never believe they're crazy.

So that was a pretty roundabout way of saying this, mostly because I don't know how to say it and am really stupidly nervous about writing the words on a screen, for some reason.

I want to be theirs. Totally and completely.

Yes, I know I've been theirs for quite some time now. Six months, to be more precise. But that's not really what I mean.

I've always, in the deepest, darkest corners of my mind, wanted to belong to someone completely, but the fear of being abandoned has always stopped me. (See? Needy.) But, again, as I've spent the past six months doing my level best to shove them away and not being able to succeed, I'm pretty confident in the knowledge that they won't take what they can get from me and then dump me off somewhere.

It's a hell of a thing to ask someone, I know. Part of me is still hesitant for that reason. It's a lot of...responsibility?...to ask someone to take. That's not really the word I'm looking for, but it'll do for now.

But there is nothing more I want in my life than to turn it completely over to them. To devote said life solely to them. To follow them for all the days of that life (hopefully, they'll let me). And to spend the rest of my life serving them.

I've never been more certain of anything. I love them and trust that they'll take good care of me.

I dunno. If they are willing to take total control of me and my life, then I'll be the happiest and luckiest little girl in the world. I never wanted a "normal" life, to get married or have kids or anything like that, but I never knew why. Now I do. I'm meant to be a slave--their slave--, and I'm ok with that.

It's like I told J. before we ever met. I don't have a lot to offer, and on paper, I look kinda bad. But for whatever practicalities I lack, I make up for it in loyalty and devotion and the desire to just be a good girl and serve.

Take me. Keep me. Let me follow you. I do not want my life to be my own anymore. I want it to be yours. Please?

I love them both, stupidly, irrevocably. I hope they understand what it is I'm offering, as I'm not having much luck putting it into words. And, even more, I hope they want it, too.

~A very nervous and embarrassed slave-girl

So

I was telling B. earlier that I'm in a weird mood. Not a BAD one. I'm still really stupidly happy from finally being able to spend some time with B. and J. this weekend. I just feel odd.

Do you ever get in one of those moods where you want something, but you don't know what "something" is? Yeah, that's how I'm feeling now.

I think I'm just in a really submissive, non-painslutty mood. I wanna do the service pet thing, I guess.

It sounds really stupid, but it makes me so happy to serve, to do things for them, to make them smile. I think about it all the time, and I feel kind of empty inside when I'm not able to do those things.

I may be much more submissive than I like to let on.

....

I've been reading Dr. William Glasser's books again. I read some of them while I was an undergrad for my long-forgotten Positive Psychology class. I loved that class, but I can only remember a thing or two about it now. The major emphasis is on taking control of one's life, and since I've felt like I've been drifting along aimlessly for quite some time now, I thought it might do me good to read them again.

There are lots of...things...I need, but I either don't know what they are or don't know how to put them into words.

My mother says I lack ambition. I don't think that's the case, but, hell, maybe I did lose it somewhere along the way. It's not that I don't want things. It's more that I don't know how to get them. I used to think that I knew, but I don't really believe that anymore.

There are definitely things I want out of being J. and B.'s pet. I mean, things besides being petted and adored. (Not that those are bad things, by the way.) I just need things that seem stupid when you put them into words, which is why I'm not writing about them here.

Dr. Glasser says that whatever issues we happen to be having in our heads are because we aren't getting our needs met. And so we behave in fucked up ways because for some reason, it makes sense to us.

That particular theory makes sense to me.

I say that I'm unhappy, but I don't think that's really the case. I think I just need things I can't have, and it frustrates me.

I don't like being stuck in this shitty town with this moronic job. I don't really even want to take the three classes necessary to finish my degree, even though I realize it'd be stupid not to. I think somewhere along the line, my priorities changed, and my life plan hasn't changed to go along with it, so I'm just kind of coasting until I figure it out.

What do I want/need/like?

I know when I'm stuck here in this shitty town with this moronic job, what I think about--and, yes, I am prone to daydreaming--is being a slave girl, almost all the time.

I try to talk to people about it, but it's like they minimize my feelings. I don't like not being taken seriously. Maybe I just don't know how to talk about things to make people understand how important they are to me.

I really don't want to wander around alone forever. What I need is to love, to be loved in return, to serve, to be allowed to be who I am without fear of derision, to be understood, at least a little, and, as a slave girl, to be such an integral part of their lives that they couldn't imagine their lives without me.

Maybe it's too much to ask.

The Giant Merry-Go-Round

I'm unhappy.

No, scratch that. I'm VERY unhappy. I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know how to communicate it. All I know is that I'm sick of this all-pervading unhappiness.

I'm on a fucking merry-go-round that I can't get off of. 'Round and 'round in circles, and I never get anywhere, and it's making me nauseated.

Same Song, Different Verse

I neglect this blog way more than I should. It's partly because I do so much blogging for work, for sure. The other part is not for lack of thoughts. It's more of a lack of ability to put said thoughts into words. Well, that and the redundancy of those thoughts. I have the same struggles as I always do; I'm just tired of writing about them.

I'm weird. They dominate my thoughts all the time. Even when I'm thinking about something else, they're still there at the back of my mind. And when I have a quiet moment and am actively fantasizing about being with them, I'm not even being my typical perverted self and thinking about kinky sex. (Well, not usually. *Grins*) I think about sitting in the floor at J.'s feet while she feeds me macaroni and cheese. I think about rubbing my face against B.'s feet and purring happily. And, favorite of favorites, I think of being between them and snuggling close to them both.

I get so overwhelmed by my own emotions, and I don't really have the foggiest idea of how to proceed here. I'm not used to being in this situation of not really knowing what the hell to do. I don't go around lording it over people, of course, but I'm used to being one of the smartest people in the room. Being at a complete loss is unusual to me. So I just sort of flounder around and struggle with things normal people don't have any trouble with, and it's damned frustrating.

I don't really form any lasting attachments with people. I've got all these deep and, well, overwhelming emotions inside me, and I don't know what to do with them. It's really scary, as stupid as that might sound.

Everyone says they've never met anyone they've ever felt this way about about their current partner(s). It's the cutesy, romantic, cheesy-ass kind of line you're "supposed" to use. That's why it sounds so factitious, so artificial, so completely insincere and/or ingenuous when I say that I'm blown away by how I feel about them.

The upside is, anyone who's known me more than about three seconds knows I don't do anything just because I'm "supposed" to, so I'm hoping they realize I'm being for real here.

I think part of the reason I've always resisted any sort of encroachment on my freedom, particularly in the context of personal relationships, is--aside from the fact that I've decided that all I've ever known is dysfunction--something born of fear of who I am and what I'm capable of. My life is mine, and I've never had any particular desire to share it with anyone. I always kind of identified with Elizabeth I in that regard.

But you know what? I've bumbled through my whole life, and now I've stumbled into something much stronger than me. To comfort myself late at night when I'm lonely, I imagine myself on a huge, invisible retractable leash. It goes with me wherever I go, and I can go as far as I like. But, ultimately, they're the ones holding the thing, and I'll always come back to where they are.

I think that's what love and devotion are. Maybe I finally am learning something.

See why I've neglected the blog so long? This is just the hundredth verse of the same old thing. Maybe one day I'll learn how to swim on my own instead of trying to drag everyone down with me when I start to panic and drown. *Rolls eyes*

:D

B. and J. came over this weekend. I was really, like, stupidly happy. It was partly because I hadn't seen them in way too long (damn this whole being broke thing) and partly because, well, it just seemed right for them to be snoring on my couches after dinner. ;)

We must do this again soon.

In other news, I'm still struggling. No, I swear, I'm not one of those bitches who always has to have some kind of drama, or she'll never be happy.

No, really. Shut up.

I'm still in the stages of figuring out how to word this and actually identifying the problem. But I'm going to give it a try, anyway.

Saturday, J., L., and I went over to L.'s place to see mine and L.'s cats. While we were there, we were talking because that's what happens when you get a bunch of females together, right? J. and I both briefly talked about how we have a complete inability to do things halfway. We have different approaches, naturally, but it's a trait we've got in common, for sure. It's one reason I have a huge amount of respect for her.

But upon further reflection, I realize that, in relation to myself, that's not exactly the truth.

I'm doing better than I was in this relationship, but I'm still holding back. I'm afraid, of course, because I'm full of insecurities and always afraid of something, but I'm also stubborn and refusing to accept things I know are true about myself.

I think a lot of my refusal to identify with the "slave" label is not because I don't see slavish tendencies and qualities about me, but because I still can't quite give all of myself that there is to give, for a multitude of reasons.

But I'm also seeing that in the past month or so, my ability to hold my loves at arm's length has waned considerably. I've let the two of them in much closer that I ever intended to. On one hand, it cues the old "chew through the straps and run like hell" reaction, but on the other hand, it makes me quite happy.

Upon closer examination, though, I'm kind of disappointed in myself. They deserve more than this.

After they left Saturday night, I was lying in my bed, unable to move because I was so sore. ;) And I realized I've pretty much reached this crossroads now. I can either continue on in this strange sort of holding pattern, where I'm deluding myself that I still retain some sort of control (thereby remaining vaguely dissatisfied for all my days), or I can say, "Fuck it," and make the leap.

'Cause leaving's not an option anymore. (Well, aside from the fun "Oh, you must come kidnap me because I won't go willingly" games. But that's totally different.)

Part of the fear is the knowledge that if I were to become one iota more dependent on them than I already am, I don't think I could ever function as a whole person again should they decide they don't want me anymore. And since I've always been very independent because I learned a long time ago that you can't count on other people, and you've only got yourself to make things happen, this whole dependency issue is a problem for me.

But something tells me I'm not ever going to be completely happy--just vaguely annoyed and disgusted at myself--if I don't do this all the way, like I do everything else in my life.

(The proverbial bull in the china shop and all that.)

The other fear is, maybe they don't want this. Maybe they don't *really* want me as complete and total slave. Maybe it's asking too much of them. Maybe it would be wrong to ask them to shoulder the responsibility and hassle. Who could possibly want someone who's THAT dependent on them at all times?

And, for the purposes of this discussion, "dependent" doesn't mean financially so or so needing to be told when I can go to the bathroom or whatever. It's not a matter of worthless or stupid, just...dependent. And redundant. Yay, redundancy.

A very large part of me wants to beg to be brought down extremely low. To have my illusion of control that they've let me keep up until now completely shattered. To be completely at their mercy and in their control, not just for the duration of our fun playtime, but for always. To be brought to the place that I can be the slave that I know I can be. To be shown how *unworthy* of love I am and then loved, anyway.

But only if that's what they want. I love them far too much to ever want them to do something they didn't want just because I'm whiny and angsty again, even if I do crave the peace and acceptance that finally being what I apparently was born to be would bring. :)

Insert Interesting Blog Title Here

Mistress wants another blog, and what Mistress wants, she gets. ;)

Even I admit I've been neglecting this thing way more than I should. I just feel extremely uninspired most of the time. The proverbial well ran dry awhile back, I'm afraid. Not that there was ever a whole bunch there to begin with. :p

Well, to update...my loves are coming to visit me this weekend. Yay! L. and I have been frantically cleaning and buying groceries. Mostly 'cause I don't want them to think I'm total failure as a female.

But, no, seriously, I'm really looking forward to it (and hoping they don't mind my other friend L. and possibly her husband showing up). And hoping they can tolerate my cooking. And planning to have L. (the one who lives across the parking lot from me, not with the married one) and J. help me tie B. up and do evil things to him. *Grins*

Seven-year-olds can be very cruel, you know. *Giggles*

Anyway, I'm currently having yet another internal struggle that revolves around me knowing I have so much more to give my owner-type people, but being afraid to let myself go that far. Yes, yes, I know, bad slave-girl, not conducive to good relationship, etc. I think I just have this rather self-destructive habit of rebelling against my true nature.

And then I'm PMS-ing. I swear, I get downright ornery when that happens.

I dunno. I wanna be a better slave-girl. I know I can be. But apparently, I'm only capable of falling so far before I stop myself and go, "Nope, can't do it."

I really wish I were more comfortable in my own skin.

Ok, to end this on a good note, I'm still really, really excited about this weekend! And about spending time with J. next week while B. is away. :)