It has been 10 months since I last wrote a blog post… It’s been about three months since I’ve made any major effort on my Facebook page.
I am still alive.
I am still here.
I have been moderating comments and approving most of them. (Side note: this isn’t a dating site. Those “hey baby, how you doing? Where you from” comments will be trashed).
I am still writing, but most of my writing was school related and then summer came and I stopped writing for a while and spent time with the kids, the pets and Master Jason. Then we decided to move closer to San Francisco and Master Jason’s work and I got busy with packing and unpacking and organizing… and then I just didn’t know where to pick up and start again. It had been so long since I last wrote here.
How do I just randomly dive back into the blogging world and say “hey! I’m back! Again…” after so many long breaks? I think at this point the problem is misdirection. I’ve already written the basics for BDSM. I’ve answered countless questions, some that I’ve posted, most that I haven’t. I’ve made this into a full time job that just doesn’t pay anything. And I’ve started to write more for the fans than for the joy of writing. It’s started to wear on me and it’s come to a point where I dread it. I started this blog because I wanted an outlet where I could talk about my life, my choices and my lifestyle freely. The focus was to be on how Master Jason and I choose to view BDSM and make it work for us. How do I refocus the blog? Make it more of a menagerie of writings that is based on my life, experiences, thoughts, fantasies and feelings. I can intertwine the advice I give with other pieces of my work can’t I?
Of course I can. And how do I restart a blog I ignored for so long? That’s pretty easy to: I just start. Somewhere. Anywhere. And then I keep writing.
I don’t know where I will go from here. I don’t know how long or short the blog posts will be. I don’t even know how frequently I’ll actually be posting. But I do know that I need to get back into the habit of writing for the joy of writing and not because I feel like I owe it to anyone else.
Today I feel like writing about where the hell I’ve been and how our most recent move went:
Over the past ten months my marriage has gone from happy-go-lucky to “I fucking hate you!” and back. Ten months is a long time and lots of shit happened. Some of it I will put into words and the rest of it you’ll have to use your imagination.
We’ve put each other through hell. We moved, again. I mentioned that above but the stress that comes with moving, with having to find another place to live that just so happens to be in our budget and have great schools definitely wore on us. Master Jason’s Asperger’s kicked in hard and he stopped speaking to me for almost a full week. I was off my A.D.D. medication and therefore all over the place both emotionally and mentally. We had this toxic friend (we’ll call her Mary) that came into our lives. Mary was able to agree with every complaint Master Jason and I had against each other. She made it seem as though she was on both of our sides and then watched as we fought about anything and everything. She pretended to step in to help but in hindsight it became obvious that she was only interested in causing more of a communication gap between Master Jason and I than she was interested in seeing us really succeed. It wasn’t until after we moved that we even realized how much we had unraveled and how close we had come to just calling the marriage, the lifestyle, everything quits and moving away and on with our lives separately. I’d like to say we kept the kids out of it, but I’m sure they noticed. We weren’t mean to each other in front of them, we didn’t use them to pass messages back and forth, but they’re not stupid. They’re teenagers now. They see more and observe more than we intend for them to. They pick up on the hostility hidden in the silences. They didn’t say anything about our fighting but I’m sure they knew Daddy and I weren’t getting along just the same. Mary didn’t really help with keeping the children out of the fights either. She would come over often and usually unannounced and then want details on every fight Master Jason and I had while she wasn’t there. It got to the point where seeing her car in my driveway would set me on edge and tension would build up in my back and shoulders. I couldn’t verbalize that yet though because I barely had enough energy to get through packing up our house and taking care of the kids and mentally preparing for the next verbal battle with Master Jason… there wasn’t anything left for reflecting on my feelings towards people I thought were friends.
Shortly before the move, Mary started fucking our roommate Paul. This meant that she was still over at the house almost daily but that Master Jason and I saw very little of her. Part of the reason we were moving was to get away from Paul. We had already deduced that he was fairly toxic as a friend and definitely not a very good roommate. After living with him for two years, we could barely wait to live in a house that didn’t include him. But Mary liked him and I wanted to be happy for her. Unfortunately she had gotten what she wanted from me: access to men who made a decent living and were interested in whatever she was willing to trade for their attention. She pulled back from our friendship.
I won’t lie, it hurt. It hurt to learn that someone I had confided in, someone I had trusted, someone I had invested time in was only hanging around long enough to catch an eligible bachelor. It frustrated me to find out that I had been used as a means to an end. I took out my frustrations on Master Jason and dug deeper into the petty fights about boxes being packed, hours worked and plans for after the move. He fought equally hard, stressed out about moving in general, paying for the upfront costs that always partner with relocating, and the pure exhaustion from all of the stress we were under.
But then moving day came. Real friends showed up to help finish packing the boxes. They helped load things onto the moving van and helped us unload them back off again. Suddenly Master Jason and I were in a new house, in a new city. Something happens when you’re in a new place with everything you own in boxes surrounding you. Something changed between Master Jason and I. We went from fighting about everything to being too tired to fight at all. We were more than just emotionally drained. We were mentally exhausted and getting physically sick from the stress of watching ourselves destroy the marriage we had worked so hard to build. The house we moved to is much smaller than our old house but it’s perfectly sized for just our little family. This meant that Master Jason and I had to save our arguments for when the kids weren’t home. There wasn’t a space we could retreat to for hostile discussions. It meant we couldn’t avoid each other either. It meant that we had to deal with each other and the issues hanging in the air around us.
Ever so slowly we started doing things for each other again. I made sure that he had coffee in the mornings and I would offer to drive him into work so that we could grab breakfast at our favorite café in the city before he had to be in the office. He would complement me on my progress of unpacking and organizing the house and offer back massages when it was clear that the stress was causing further tension in my shoulders. We remembered that we were in this together and then we acted like it. It’s been five months since we moved. Five months of making an effort to go out together at least once a week just to enjoy each other’s presence. Five months of reminding ourselves of how good we are together both in the bedroom and out of it. We’ve found routines that fit our new lives here. We’re working together to build this marriage back up, stronger than it was before. We’re remembering who we are and what roles we’ve chosen to play. Slowly we’re easing back into something that feels more like “us” but with a few improvements. I’ll probably blog about those more specifically later. Right now though, it’s 3AM and Master Jason is ready for bed. He’s been playing a video game while I write. We’re both exhausted but we’re going to make the effort to fuck each other’s brains out anyway. Sex is one of the many ways we release excess tension. And then we’ll lay there, out of breath and exhausted and drift off to sleep knowing that today was a good day. There’s a deep satisfaction in knowing that the man I am sleeping next to is solid and comfortable. It’s a new version of security that I didn’t know existed, or maybe I did and I just forgot. It’s definitely worth the work it takes to make a relationship successful. He’s worth it and what’s great is, I know I’m worth it too.
To new beginnings,