Yesterday was difficult. After my anger subsided, I fell into darkness. I couldn’t shake the doom & gloom feeling. Once I get to that point, the anger turns into frustration and I can’t get it out. I need to purge it somehow but I had to keep it together. The kids were home last night, my mom was there (talking about the whole ordeal; moving, THEM, court, which only added to my frustration), Papa came home and saved me from having to finish dinner on my own. By the time the little ones were all in bed, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I knelt by Papa’s chair and made my request, I asked for a session. We both have been wanting one anyway and this would be the only way I could exercise the demons that are eating me alive. He couldn’t do it, wasn’t feeling up to it. I knew He felt bad, He said He was sorry. I pushed it back down and finished my chores for the night. This is one of those rare moments where it’s difficult to accept that my well-being is in His hands, that I have to hang on until He can help me dissolve the ball inside my stomach. He knew I wasn’t doing so well, I can’t hide and I didn’t even try. I curled up for a while on the couch, under a blanket. Then later crawled to my spot beside His chair. His hand stroking my cheek and neck helped a little of the angst subside. I calmed a bit, able to breathe a little easier. After our shows, He took me into the bedroom and made me talk. I didn’t want to talk but I cannot deny Master either…I didn’t cry but tears slipped from my eyes occasionally. It’s the pent-up emotion that I need to let out.
The little masochist inside me is jumping up and down, screaming, “BEAT ME!”…beat me until the dam breaks, it all comes flooding out and the sweet release washes over me. Beat the demons out of me.