Friday, 13 February 2015

Friday Fragments: Toe-Dipping

I know it doesn't 'do' anything, but I wish I was okay with posting that on my 'real' social media accounts.

And I agree with the line of thinking that its just a movie and fantasy, etc. etc and it doesn't really promote  anything more than any other movie.

We watched the trailer last night...because there are some hilarious parody going around and how can you truly appreciate the parody if you don't see the real thing?

And kind of surprising to me,  he's brought it up and we had the "Is what we do abuse" conversation, because our life is way more than the movie that claims to be real...He was joking at first but it turned into an actual conversation.

I pointed out what we do, how we live is considered abusive, people we have met in the kink community think we go too far, when  this blog was open, I would get email from people saying what I was living was abusive.

It really is an impossible conversation--this is what we do abusive, when we are talking about ttwd--because where is that line? And our line, compared to your line maybe a great distance just because in your opinion what we do is more extreme, then does that make it abusive? 
 Consensual non-consent, is such a hard concept to explain or to talk about, even to like minded people.
 He call me his doormat, I can check every box on the 'are you in an abusive relationship?' pamphlet and the lines do blur on occasion.

I do find it interesting that this is being used as a platform to campaign for domestic violence awareness. Since when are shelters okay being mentioned in the same breath as BDSM?

But this movie is out and people are talking about it and because how we live is considered abuse, I know I won't say anything and suffer the ignorance silently...can't wait till the next family gathering.

Wednesday, 11 February 2015

The Discord is Complex.

"If you want to waste your talent and your brain, it really is of no concern to me. I have to find a way to care less."

Yes, those words did come out of my mouth, last night. 
Yes, I know they were hurtful to him. 
 I didn't mean it to be.
I was horribly sorry.
   I honestly couldn't think of a diplomatic way to soften that blow and get the point across.  

Because, that's what it comes down to. Most of the 'I will do x" things involve his stuff. Things that I can't help with or control.

Years ago, I  figured out how not to be bothered by the money issue--which is an emotional trigger for me and one that was always a point of tension in our early years. I started to think, "Its his money, what do I care what he does with it?" 
He has always kept us sheltered and fed--if he ever stops doing that, then maybe I get a voice in the money. 

When I started to take that stance--giving in more to the range and breadth of control he held---, it eased a lot of tension and we never had a money fight again till the second-last week of my pregnancy (still not over that one---because, gods we worked so hard on this issue over the years...and yet). 

But I got to that way of thinking with his direction.

I know the two situations aren't exactly equal. I don't know how else to quell the panic that him saying he is going to do x and not doing it, brings out in me.

Maybe I'm just exhausted from being his cheerleader and not having a visible impact.
And I wish I could hold back--but that's not me. I'm all in, with everything I have. Not having a visible,tangible impact has never really bothered me before. 

I can't pinpoint what it is I need...maybe that's because I'm waiting for him to tell me.

To broaden the picture: 
He is the only one I have had for help these past weeks. He has been amazing. Honestly.
If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be breastfeeding--I would have quit that second week when suddenly, things started to go wrong--and that matters to me in ways I don't have words for yet.
He encouraged me, supported me, stayed up with me through so many round the clock feeds--even when he had to go to work the next day--comforted me when I cried uncontrollably and cursed like a sailor over our perfect baby, because the pain was so intense. 
  He has been so incredible and it really has highlighted all that is good and strong and stable between us.
Neither one  of us knows how we survived that first, second or third week. We didn't count on me being so out of commission. We didn't fathom we would be so alone.

I had no frame of reference for the fact that giving birth could be a traumatic experience--which so few understand, which makes it feel more lonely...I really wish people would understand that it's not the baby...the baby is perfect and easy and is the only thing that feels right...I/we don't need help with the baby. 

It's not help we need, really, its just space to in spite of everything that has happened..we need a taste of normalcy because we are doing our best to live with it..and its hard to do that when everyone has been treating us so strangely.

So, maybe its not the fact that I am feeling like a stranger in my own marriage, but in life. Everything is just a little...not quite where I left it...and feels slightly out of place.

 Everything we have been through over these past few weeks, has to be impacting him too. And I know the call and response of , "Did you?/Can you?" and "I will" is in part, reflexive.
 Just like I know that him controlling every little minuscule thing, is a reaction to stress--of course I offered to call the management office.

My need to clean the Hovel/fit life in, has more to do with the not liking the unknowns. Not knowing when I'm going to be pain-free. not knowing how and when and if I can do anything other than care for baby...I really don't care that the place is a disaster--because,you know, baby.

So we argue and fight and all of that feels icky but then we come together and coo and ahh and marvel over our perfect baby...because you know, baby.

And there hasn't been a day that has gone by since his birth; even in those earliest days; where I am not flooded with tears of gratitude that we have this perfect, healthy baby. 
  I am acutely aware of the odds.

Everything does pale in comparison to that...but this is my outlet and I'm trying to figure it out and there is so much to process and I only have moments in which I can do so and scrawling here when I have a moment, helps.

And as things have started to calm down, as I have started to feel better, we do have moments and catch glimpses of our normal...though its not the same...because I don't want it, not quite.

I can't say exactly what I need. I wish I could.
I long for the familiarity of our M/s but fear it...there is just so much.
I need him to keep it all calm and help me to arrive at that newer way of thinking, of being.
 But as much as I don't want it, as much as I fear it, it isn't off the table. I fear it. 
  I fear the potential, I fear the intensity, I fear the kink, I fear the surrender...I don't fear him---not in that way.
He wouldn't take it off the table. And I have said, I need him to call it.
That brings us to a new place...and I don't know how it looks.

Never have we truly tested how deeply the meaning of 'consensual non-consent' breathes.

Monday, 9 February 2015

The Discord.

We fought,
In posts past, I would have added a line about how that isn't the norm for us and how rare it is...but...
 Over these 10+ months, it is not a rare occurrence.

What did we fight about?
The same thing, details differing, it comes down to: I asked him to do something, he said he would, he didn't.

Maybe, maybe there are good reasons for him not doing whatever it was he said (in this case making a phone call to the management of the building management of the Hovel---coz  all things relating to the outer workings of the Hovel is his domain) maybe he forgot,  maybe he just didn't get to it, whatever...

But because it is the same theme over and over and it happens now with great consistently, this is what him not doing what he says he will, says to me:

I don't care what you need and what you want and what you feel is important doesn't matter to me.

He doesn't get it why I can't be more understanding, why the little things bug me, why I loose it over him not doing what he says he is going to do, if its something so inconsequential. 

It's not little to me.
 Over the years, I have given so much to him, I have surrendered and I have to trust that it matters...if he wants my submission, then I need to feel that he gets it...and keeping your word--no matter if  what you are keeping your word on is higher or lower on the scale of valuation, is still keeping your word. 
Be responsible with what you give and what you take.
So keep your word, dammit.

And I still haven't forgiven him for not packing the hospital bag--another thing that he said he would do and didn't---not that I think if he had done that...but you know...maybe a teeny tiny part of me does.

When we were in our happy balance tipped state of M/s, I felt secure and I felt like trusting him wasn't conditional. It was rare that he would promise something and not come through..but when that did happen, I forgave him.

Coz its all about the grace of forgiveness--also an element that seems to be missing.

Its like...somewhere along the way, instead of offering action/consequences, comfort/reassurances when needed, he just tried to...or thought it was a good course of actions in pacifying my emotions, because he thought the issue was how I was feeling in the moment and not how I felt pertaining to the issue..and it is there, to the issue where I actually needed the action/consequences, comfort/reassurances.
 Communication, I once was sure we excelled at it.

Emotion is not his strong suit.
And it might be slower than I liked but its steady--he has always come through on the big things.

It didn't help matters that the weekend involved him going to emergency.
He went to emergency.
He never, ever complains.

And because anger is fear's child, instead of being compassionate and caring, I freaked out and yelled and stomped around...

Coz....I know him. 
And I know how bad it has to be for him to complain and how ultra more bad it had to be for him to go to the emergency (he's fine, it was something rather minor as these things go).

Which means, what was bothering him enough to lead to that action, had to have been bothering him for much longer than he let on. He didn't tell me.

Which directly hits upon my fear of the man walking around with the plague and keeping quiet about it.

Friday, 6 February 2015

Friday Fragments: Mumble, Ramble

Today, I made banana muffins.
 It's seriously hilarious that is what makes me feel accomplished but there it is...and a throwback to  the before times; one of those service things was baking something weekly.

We have kind of sort of  landed in a routine--that will change with the next growth spurt, I know--but for now, its good. And I am in slightly less pain, which means I don't need to take every nap the baby does, which means I can fit in other stuff...which means, I'm seeing a bit more light.
The days are long, the years are short as they say.
We are enjoying so many moments of these early days.

Last week, he helped me to put blinders on.
 We are hanging out in the baby's room--because you know how much time he actually sleeps in there (never for the record)--basically living in this cozy beautiful space--ignoring the other rooms and the laundry and the stuff that needs to be done...its been blissful.
Anyways, this physical boundary of space made it so much easier mentally--like I was free to just be and Horace put that in place.

We have moments. Moments where I catch who we are or how we used to be and moments that I think it's still there and nothing has changed.

What makes us so good together, is that ability to be on the same thought waves without any words and it hasn't been like that for so long but the other happened.

For years, we have been following his dreams. A whole lot of time, energy and resources have gone into the pursuit. During the pregnancy I found that hard, emotionally, for the first time I struggled in a very real sense of putting him first.

See? There is so much it seems, to come back from.

The other night, knowing he was behind, knowing he has work to catch up on, I felt nothing was happening, there was no movement. I started to tell him but it came out wrong or he took it wrong, he ended the conversation and I fell asleep....

But it wasn't actually about him. The panic I was feeling was about my own fear,  that feeling of loss of freedom, lost of my own creativity, as if I have given so much to him, there isn't enough for my own passions to flourish.
And I didn't even have to say that to him, he got it and we finished the conversation which started the previous night with me on the defensive but he knew what I meant, and that showed me our foundation just might have survived.

You don't follow a dream in hopes of payout, you follow it because it makes him happy--is what I muttered to myself.

He went out with the guys for the first time since baby...because I am feeling more confident and it helps to not be riddled with pain and because it was time.

I need to figure out how to fit in everything else...the writing, the work, the play, the business, the dreaming .

But today I made muffins.
And that's good enough.

We're hanging in, It is getting easier--and a lot more fun.