He is not feeling well, I fear. I still have been sending everything my hot, wet pussy can spill out for Him. It’s part of a feeling that I never do enough to please Him, and part me being an attention whore. Even when He is sick, I hate to admit. Yet admitting it is humbling.
I was just listening to a video on YouTube that I’ll link to at the end, called, “Why You Will Marry the Wrong Person”, by Alain de Botton. It showed up on my feed, so I gave it a listen. I was also intrigued. I feel that way quite often. And then, out of guilt, I push it down. Or instead, I see that I am with hubby because we have had a long life together, made a family and do actually love each other. Yet, this aching feeling inside myself, since He came into my life, is that I have met the right person too late. That I have missed out. It’s so deep. So dark and hungry, that it lays a black silk thread into everything in my life and with Him.
This video sounded an awful lot like what daddy says. Awful, I guess, because I feel it’s all inside myself and I’m victim to it. Maybe less now than when He started this journey of self discovery with me.
We seek out partners, this video said, that will make us suffer. How amazing to hear that. That it is from when we were young children and we look for this in later life. It is what feels familiar to us. Learning to see people as real and to accept all the good and bad is what teaches us how to love.
How many times have I gotten angry with Him? I have felt unappreciated, ignored and unloved. I say to myself that I send things that cost me money, time, energy and emotional integrity to give to Him. I wake every morning and devote my day to showing Him I care or that I can be a hot little slut for Him. All to get His attention and approval. Like a child asking a parent to love them. Hence: Daddy and babygirl?
I sulk and wallow in pain and self pity. I expect Him to read my mind. Oddly enough, He does have that ability. I am not joking about that. That can feel as if the answer to ‘what do woman want’ , but many times as if I’m naked and made of cellophane. Yet, He doesn’t always read my mind or feelings. He doesn’t always sense how writing ‘cool’ when I was so hoping He would find something I sent ‘hot’ to be humiliating and debilitating.
I have somehow connected with a man thousands of miles away who can perfectly make me suffer. The kind of suffering that feels crippling to me at times. I literally curl myself into a fetal position and cry like a baby. I feel frightened and lost. So lost, as if everything that feels good and right has been ripped away from me all because He isn’t there for me.
There is a Dom that I met on Fet in the very beginning of joining the site. He came on so strong to me. His language had a similar feeling to Daddy’s, and I was attracted to Him because of it. He is actually nothing like Daddy. He has a very different style of domming and gets upset when I share some of the stories of what I’m going through with Him. He feels Daddy is a sadist, but always says that if I’m ok with the pain then he just hopes I’m happy.
I wrote to Him today that I didn’t know if I was happy. There are moments of erotic ecstasy so high, I feel as if I know heaven and the heights of excitement life has to offer; feelings of such a full heart that I can only describe it as love I feel for Him and from Him; moments of quiet despair that I handle with bottom lip bitten; moments of utter despair that my heart literally feels broken or outright lunatic breakdowns that I am convinced I won’t live through by His pain or my own hand. I don’t joke about any of that.
I couldn’t answer any other way than to say I’m not sure. The truth is though, I need Him. It is the most vulnerable feeling I’ve ever felt. He has so completely wrapped Himself around my heart and mind and body, that I need Him.
I need Him to show me who I am, because when I fuck so many people…I don’t know that anymore. It scares me because I didn’t think that was who I am. I need Him to say it’s okay and that He’ll stay with me. That I’m a good girl when I’m so frightened I’m not. I need Him to be there and watch me whether through the camera or my words or my tears as I do things that society and my family say is so wrong. I need to hear there’s something redeemable about my soul after cheating and lying to everyone around me, including Him. I need Him to say I’m beautiful when I feel ugly. I need Him to understand all of this and break me open when I won’t look deeper. I need Him to tell me I’m wrong and I’m needy and I’m just a spoiled child when I am convinced I am not. I need Him to tell me that I don’t know how to love because I don’t love myself. That that’s my biggest fear: looking inside me. And I need Him to tell me that despite all the shit that’s wrong with me, I’m still worthy of love. Especially His.
You see…He always knows. When He said that yesterday to me, “tell daddy what you need”, my mind went to all the surface pain. They are only triggers for the deep wells underneath. The shit that I buried as a child. He only senses it, He didn’t create it in me. But He always knows.
I didn’t know that was going to come up, but there it is. All my guts in all their disgusting glory. I didn’t tell Him this, I’m not sure why…yes, I am…I was afraid He’d say it was all my bloated ego; when I purged at the Ayahuasca retreat, I grabbed my bucket that I threw up in. I got on my hands and knees and slowly crawled to what I thought was the center of this arena. Something like a Roman Arena where events are put on display for the masses entertainment. I put my bowl in the center and a spotlight went on it. Everyone just stared at it and it was beautiful. They loved it. I’m fucking laughing at my stupid self right now. Laughing and crying. What else is new.
Amazing what purges out of me when He’s quiet. Just like that video mentioned, we fill ourselves with other people often to keep us from looking at ourselves. We focus on the other person and never see what we are ourselves. I do that. A lot. It’s what He means when He says I blame Him. I make sure other people blame Him, too. All so I don’t have to look at me. All so I don’t have to take responsibility.
That doesn’t mean to hate myself. It just means to accept myself. It’s what He has been harping on from day one with me. He said when He got out of the hospital, “I lived. You lost”. It hurt and confused me and as always, I saw the negative message in it. I thought He hated me and wanted to punish me. He lived, so therefore He was able to get me to see the truth about Him and myself. Because He lived, I lost the ability to create a delusion that I’d tell everyone was the truth. Because He lived, I had to face it all. No delusions, only what’s real. And you wonder why I say He’s magick?