Something Wicked This Way Comes

For the past few weeks I have been off.  I have noticed something, a twitch almost, and I have stamped it down, ignored it, not even realizing it is a “thing”.

I have fought the desire to do all the things that are bad for me; eat too much, drink too much and even go jogging.  I love jogging but I have major back and neck issues that don’t allow for it.  But anyone who jogs knows that high, and that there is no substitute.  Except maybe boxing, or shooting; perhaps it’s time for a new hobby.

Even my swimming has not always been as effective as it usually is.  Normally I feel the stress ease from my body and mind with the first lap, but one day this week I was at lap 16 before I felt relief flooding my mind; I felt a true physical shiver run through my body, finally.

But tonight, as I once again went to bed early because I was “tired”, which I know is really my mind’s way of avoiding something, I started to fantasize a bit.

As I lay in bed I nearly groaned out load as I imagined my head being pulled back by my hair.  I could almost feel the strain in my neck as a strong hand gripped my head and pulled me around to them.

I pictured myself on my knees, then my wrists bound behind me, and I could feel the relief flood my body.

That is when I realized what submitting does for me and how important it is.

When I submit, to the right person, it clears my mind.  It allows me freedom, it gives me focus and removes all the “little” things from my head.

For that time of submitting I am not thinking of anything except the person controlling me, and my own actions and response.

I am filled with fear and passion, both overpowering emotions, that do not allow room for things like worry or depression.

Oddly enough I also realized that during that time I am filled with thoughts of survival.  This sort of makes sense as I am that person who sleeps with the bedroom door open, likes to sleep near the door, sits on the outside of the dinner table and would prefer to stand at a crowded party than to sit; trapped.

But I live for being restrained; what a conflict!

When I am restrained, tortured, used, manipulated; all I can think about is what is going on at that moment, and how to survive it.

So tonight I realized how much a part of me submitting is, to the right person.

Have to find a “therapist” I suppose.

ttyl……beth

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s