Personal Growth and Progress

One year ago yesterday, I came across this post on FB and took a screenshot. I was in a completely different place…deep in grief, anxiety, PTSD, fear, and depression. Recovering and rebuilding takes a lot of work. A lot of wondering how you’ll ever feel okay again. With a lot of love, patience, and support from family and friends, I’ve overcome so many things…from dealing with guilt to continuing to work through insecurities to reconnecting with old friends and making new ones to finding “home“.

I in no way want to diminish or invalidate what others have gone or are going through. I am not comparing your experience to mine. I am simply sharing. This year has been tough for all of us. We have all experienced fear, loss, and heartbreak. Some days, it’s been overwhelming and one small word can throw you into despair. One thing that I had to learn to do this year was to reach out and actively stay in touch with people I care about and who care about me. I could not do this alone. I have been lucky enough to experience a lot of personal growth and make progress through such a challenging year. I know I’m not finished growing, learning, and experiencing new things. I know it won’t always be easy. I also know that I am not alone. I have hope for the future, I feel more secure, and I finally believe that I am and will be okay.

To all of you who have so patiently helped me get this far, I am forever grateful our paths crossed and that you are a part of my life, my chosen family. You guys are truly amazing people, and I hope that I can always be there for you as you have been for me. I love you all. 💗🤝

For those who are struggling, please don’t lose hope and remember this…

To everyone, please do what you can to be safe, take care of each other, and have a Happy New Year!

A little more hope…

I cleaned a window in my house today. I know that doesn’t seem like much. Around this time last year, my parents and I spent one entire weekend cleaning the floors and another weekend cleaning doors and windows throughout the house. We were literally washing away the filth that Tom left. However, there are two 36” x 72” windows that were never touched because they are a bit difficult to get to. The one over the kitchen sink and the one in the utility room.

A lot has happened in the last year. The Covid-19 pandemic is still touching every part of the world. Everyone is worn out. Everyone misses someone or something. For a while, I had given up on putting anymore effort into continuing to turn my house back into a home. I mean…no one was going to come over to see it anyway.

Another thing that happened was my mom broke her hip the day after last Christmas. She still isn’t completely back to normal. Recently, she’s been dealing with severe headaches and migraines. She has an MRI scheduled for Friday. Last week, she saw a liver specialist because her lab work showed some elevated numbers. She’ll have a liver ultrasound and a fibroscan done next Wednesday.

I don’t think I mentioned this on my blog before because it happened when I had stepped away from blogging, but my sister and her family had moved a little less than four hours away back in 2018. There was a bit of a family blowup, and they were basically told to grow up. Long story short, they are back. My parents helped pay to move them down there and have now helped pay to move them back. I still own almost three acres. I have the brick house, my parents have a double-wide mobile home, and my sister and her family are back in a single-wide mobile home on my property. I’m really not sure how much “growing up” they did considering they’re back. I’ve been at their place every weekend helping them put furniture back together, unpack, and organize.

Back at my house, there is still quite a bit that I’d like to get done. I’ve been waiting on a roofing contractor. My insurance company is covering a full replacement minus the deductible. The contractor is supposed to quote the cost of adding a gable roof over my back porch. He already agreed to do the rest of the roof…I’m just hoping he’s reasonable with the addition. Back in June, my brother helped me gut my middle bathroom, so it’s ready to be remodeled along with some other work here and there.

On top of all of that, I stopped exercising consistently. After working out almost every day for months, I had only worked out four times in like eight weeks. Granted…during that eight weeks, I got covid from my nephew when he started going to school up here a little over a month ago. It wasn’t easy, but I forced myself to get up and continue working from home. I have since recovered, but I still cannot taste or smell things. Sometimes, I’ll catch a hint, but after a couple of bites, the flavor is mostly gone.

This virus really does affect everyone differently. My dad caught it, developed pneumonia, and couldn’t do anything for two weeks. My cousin got it and passed away a week later. My nephew had allergy and cold symptoms. I felt more like I had a really bad sinus infection or the flu. You just don’t know what will happen until you get it, so I hope that everyone is doing all they can to stay safe and protect yourselves and others.

The election was another thing that caused a lot of tension and anxiety. I don’t like talking about politics here, so I’ll just say that I’m glad it’s over.

I’ve met some truly amazing people this year both online and in person. Heck, we even pulled off one of the best surprise birthday gifts I’ve ever had the honor of being a part of. Right now, I miss hanging out with my friends. The last couple of months have felt like forever because so much has happened. Or it really feels that way anyway.

So, yes, I cleaned a window today. The sun is shining, and it’s a nice 70 degrees outside. I worked out for the second day in a row (and worked out twice last week). I even took a multivitamin for the third day in a row. Today, I have a little more hope than I’ve had in a while.

Finding Home: A New Chapter

This weekend was freaking incredible! It was full of so many firsts for me. I met up with Dotty, her husband, and their really good friend at a little farmhouse rental a few hours away. After experiencing several spankings, new implements, lots of laughs, and wonderful cuddles, this weekend will be one that will be impossible to forget.

At the end of my last scene on Sunday, what hit me (other than the multiple implements that can be seen piled on the corner of the bed) was knowing and believing that this wasn’t just the end of an exciting weekend, but it was actually the start of a new chapter in my journey of finding home. I have genuine friends who really do care about me. You all know the real me – the me who can take the reigns and lead at work, the me who takes care of everyone and went through hell in my last relationship, and the me who loves to be spanked and to let go every now and then.

I have people, friends, a tribe who are all still here after everything. After this memorable weekend, I can finally feel the love passing through the cracks in the wall I built. I can feel the love that deep down I knew had to be there, but until now, I had given up on and thought I just wasn’t worth the effort or didn’t deserve it. My heart couldn’t be more full than it is right now.

I want to give a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has loved me and supported me as I continue on this journey. I love you guys, and I am so happy to have all of you in my life. 💗

Six years ago…

Recently, I’ve been talking a lot about what I’m currently going through because that’s where I am. In my last post, I opened up and shared what happened a year ago. What I’ve been through takes up a lot of my time as I try to focus on recovering from the past, being okay with the present, and moving forward.

Today, I want to remember some good things. Looking back, May 2014 was a big month for me. On May 1st, I had worked up the courage to email Bonnie from the My Bottom Smarts blog. I had just finished reading her entire archive and it was the first time I reached out to anyone who talked about spanking as much as I wanted to talk about it. From her blog, I found links to several others. As I started exploring, I found a whole community of people who talked about everything from personal relationships to every day life to how they felt about and incorporated TTWD into their lives. A whole new world started to open up.

On May 5th, I wrote my first kink-related blog entry to introduce myself. I had no idea who would read it or what would happen. I just knew that I wanted to share my experiences and maybe find some friends out there. I had fun with it. I shared stories or books that I came across. I shared the fun kinky sex experiences. I shared things that I was hoping would happen. I shared the death of Tom’s dad and his resulting relapse into drug addiction. Then, I disappeared for four years, came back, and have been sharing some of what it’s like to slowly recover from being in love with an addict. I continue to share because I miss this community and because I hope sharing might help others.

On May 23, 2014, I reached out to someone who would end up helping me through some of the darkest times I’ve had in my life so far. At the time, she had already found my blog and commented on some of my first posts! (Talk about being really excited to be noticed by someone so amazing!) I had just finished reading her autobiography and was working through her blog archive when I sent my first email to Erica. I had no idea how important this first correspondence would be. Last year, I only texted two friends the day after I told Tom to move out – Erica was one of them. As my anxiety and depression grew into something I could no longer control and keep bottled up, she was there to virtually hold my hand, calm me down, and walk in circles repeatedly through the things that were consuming me. She encouraged my switch to weekly therapy and helped me open up. She knows everything about me. And would you believe it? She has never left my side. She was there and is still there every day. Our friendship means the world to me.

Going forward, these are the memories that I want to hold on to as I start to find myself again and let go of the past. As this month closes, I am ready for new experiences and new memories. It is time.

One year ago…

One year ago, Tom left home to run an errand. He was supposedly going to pick up a small boat. He said it was sitting on a trailer that had a bad tire, so it might take a few hours. I told him to pick up some fix-a-flat and to please call me and let me know how it was going. By 9:30pm, we had talked three times. He was still having trouble with the trailer and was planning on turning around, leaving the boat, and heading home. He said that he would take a few minutes because he misplaced something, but he was heading home.

By 10:30pm, he still wasn’t home. I called him, but he was no longer answering. This wasn’t the first time he had done this. We had Life 360 on our phones, so I could see where he was. I finally had enough. I texted him, “If you don’t call me, I will head out there.” In order to do this, I had to borrow my dad’s vehicle because Tom was in my Tahoe. Why? Because he had wrecked his truck three months before and I was in the process of buying myself a new vehicle. Of course, he didn’t call or text me back. I didn’t trust the people where he was, so I called his mom and asked her to go with me. She agreed. I borrowed the van from my dad, picked up his mom, and drove 20 mins to where he was. As I pulled up, he was walking toward the Tahoe to get his phone. Apparently, he had decided he wanted to get high with the people he was hanging out with.

Me: Why didn’t you call me or answer your phone?
Tom: (I don’t remember his answer…probably something like I didn’t want to argue or you knew where I was.)
Me: Please follow me home. I can still “fix” this. I’ll just tell my parents that you were working late (they live next door to me).

Well, that pissed him off, after all, why should he have to answer to anyone?

Tom: Stop making a scene, go home, and I’ll be home in a couple of hours.
Me: No, follow me home or I’ll follow you home.
Tom: No, I will be home in a couple of hours.
Me: I’m not okay with this. You need to make up your mind. It’s me or all of this (gesturing at the house where he was getting high and the people that were somewhere around).
Tom: All of this.

…

Me: Then, I guess you need to move out…
Tom: If that’s what you want.
Me: Are you going to be home in time to take me to work in the morning? (He had been taking me to work and picking me up.)
Tom: Yes, I’ll be there in a couple of hours.

I think we talked on the phone around 1am. He said that he would be back soon. At this point, I’m still thinking I might be able to fix this if he does make it back in time…but I knew he wouldn’t be there to take me to work.

I called him at 6am. No answer. His phone was dead. I called at 6:30. Nothing. By 6:40am, I called my dad, “Can you take me to work?”

Tom called at 6:55am: I’m on my way.
Me: (sarcasm) Good. I’m on my way to work. Are you going to pick me up from work? We need to talk.
Tom: Yes, I’ll be there.

I got through the day. No idea how. I just did. He picked me up, and we headed to the house. We talked in the kitchen. I told him I couldn’t do this anymore. He decided that he would leave that night. I helped him pack a suitcase, and he left.

Over the next several months, a local friend and I packed his stuff that was all over the house into boxes. He would show up basically whenever the hell he felt like it. He wouldn’t show up when he said he would, he would show up without calling, or he would bring someone with him without telling me. He had stuff all over my property…in the house, in the sheds, and just outside in the open. I let him have access to my Walmart Pay to buy food…because I’m a soft-hearted idiot. I moved my deadline several times from September to October to finally December 31st. In September, I cut him off from Walmart Pay and had to change my credit card because suddenly I no longer had access to some of the bills I was covering for him (cellphone and car insurance).

I saw him on Christmas Day. I helped pack a full trailer load. He was planning on coming back one more time, then whatever was left I would get rid of. On Dec. 28th, he was arrested at the abandoned property next door for allegedly trying to break into the house and steal copper. His new fiancé begged me to help, but I wouldn’t. She apparently got him out on New Year’s Eve.

He has called a few times since then…mostly trying to find out if tax checks have arrived for him. I’ve now told him at least three times to fill out a change of address form. Two weeks ago, he told me that he had changed the address on his license and that he was heading directly to the post office. On Tuesday, a check arrives. He lied to me. Again. I have a choice. I could put “return to sender” on it or I could either contact him or wait for him to call me and give it to him. He has a fiancé and is taking care of her two little girls. Assuming this is the stimulus check…that’s $1,200 dollars. I should not have to make this choice. This is not my responsibility. So, what am I going to do? I was going to talk to my therapist this evening, but that got postponed to tomorrow. I guess I’m probably going to wait for him to call or try to contact him. Why? Because I’m incapable of choosing my well-being over someone else’s. For all those who think I’m this strong, intelligent woman, I’m sorry to disappoint you…I think we might have finally located her, but we still haven’t completely pulled her out of the rubble yet.

Tom ran all over my boundaries for years. He knew what they were; he just didn’t care. I am still dealing with the fallout from the emotional abuse and from being in a constant high state of anxiety. I have been grieving for a while. I lost the man I fell in love with to drugs years ago. I finally had to give up and physically let him go a year ago. Through all of this, I also lost myself. I gave so much of me to this man that there was nothing left. My confidence, strength, love, self-worth, vulnerabilities, and insecurities – everything went into this relationship and I did everything I could to save it.

I don’t love him anymore. I don’t regret telling him to leave. What I do regret is losing me. I am still so angry at myself for letting it go so far, for enabling, for allowing myself to be so vulnerable, for giving him all of me. If given the choice, I would not willingly put myself through this again. However, if living through this was the only way that I would have been able to meet the support group I have today, then I wouldn’t hesitate. While I was still struggling in the depth of my despair, friends (old and new) have opened their hearts to me and are still helping me put the pieces back together. You guys know who you are, but I have to name a few.

Erica– you have literally been there every day since day one. You’ve seen me at my worst and have never turned your back on me. I will forever be grateful for the friendship we have. You have given me so much love, strength, and support through my darkest moments. Holding my hand in spirit, reminding me to breathe, and telling me that I will be okay. I don’t know what I would have done without you, SIS.

Dotty – you and your hubby are the first spankos I’ve met in person. I am so grateful for your friendship, patience, and support you both have given me. You guys are amazing, and I am so excited and looking forward to being able to meet up again. Thank you for helping me make new memories.

Lily, Zack, Prux, and Alex – you guys have been so caring and supportive over the last few months. I appreciate all of you so much. I can’t wait to meet up one of these days.

My local friends – Thank you guys for helping me over the last year. You guys have listened to me repeat myself so many damn times. I know that couldn’t have been easy. Thank you so much for being there.

To those I haven’t mentioned – I see you and know you’re there. Your support, comments, and messages mean the world to me. Thank you all!

I love all of you so much and appreciate everything each of you has done to make my journey to finding my way back and forward just a little bit easier, just a little bit brighter.

Sometimes, progress looks like breaking down.

So, this is my 100th post for this blog. I had thought about sharing fun posts from the past, but instead, I’m going to stick with being open and honest. I warn you that this post is long and emotionally raw…this is me and this is where I am today.

Last night in therapy, I was actually able to breakdown and cry for the first time in months. I’ve mentioned before that I have the ability to appear strong and stoic. With my friends and family, I haven’t shed a tear in person since all of this happened…my eyes have watered, but not a single tear escapes. I don’t typically cry easily, but I’ve also never had a problem crying before. I cried a lot during the last few years in my relationship with Tom (both in front of him and not) and also for the first couple of months after the breakup, but only when he would come over to get his stuff. Then, suddenly, I just stopped and couldn’t cry anymore. I still hurt like crazy, but no longer had a way to release it.

I told my therapist that I have been experiencing some rather painful heartbreak again over the last week. She caught me off guard by asking me how I knew exactly what it was that I was feeling and to describe it. (Umm, because it hurts?) But, I took a moment and thought about it. It physically feels like my heart is breaking. It’s how I felt right before I started telling her about everything that was going on. She asked if I thought it was also loneliness. Yes, I do. But, it’s also the same type of really intense pain I get when I’m holding on to too much, like when I’m holding back what I’m feeling because I’m trying to not be a burden on someone. It’s all of that type of pain.

I told her about the concert, which I had written about in my last post, about how I couldn’t feel anything except disappointment. She asked if there is anything I could think of that I want to do that would make me feel good. I told her, “No, not at the moment.” I’ve gotten into a light exercising routine recently and that isn’t even helping me feel better. Her next suggestion was to try walking into a room and pretending to be happy to see if it forces a change in your mental state? Seriously?! Every damn day, I smile at everyone I meet, and it’s not like I walk into meetings as if the world is going to end. No one knows what I’m going through at work. My parents don’t even know how bad I feel. And, no, faking it does not help improve my mood. This is how I stuffed things down for so long.

I have also still been experiencing bouts of moderate to severe anxiety. One time this week, it was triggered by Tom’s step-sister texting me. We’ve always gotten along. She was being nice, and she’s very sorry for what happened. Unfortunately, she will always be tied to memories with Tom. And, I guess sometimes it is harder to talk about him. Another time within the last week, it was triggered by revisiting some old emails to a dear friend where I had just started going into detail about what happened. Apparently, I can no longer look at what happened objectively like I have been doing this entire time. Additionally, I seem to be experiencing general anxiety around the same time every evening somewhere between 6pm-9pm. The meds I have are as needed, so I typically take 1-2 half tablets a day…assuming I don’t stubbornly decide to not take anything.

Then, I decided to bring up the new video game that I am trying to use as a distraction. It’s called God of War on PS4, and it has a good, emotionally involved storyline. Now, I won’t go into all the details of the game because I don’t know how many of you are gamers, but I do want to mention something that I noticed. My mind treats everything like a logical puzzle to solve, as such, you just need the right pieces to see the big picture or to find the right keys that fit into the correct locks (like an escape room). So, why would a video game be any different? Typically, in these role playing games, you have a map. When you first start out, the map is covered in fog or obscured in some way. All you know is where you are. As you meet other characters, you are given advice, items/tools that will help you, and hopefully a direction. So, you head off and slowly the map opens up as you meet new characters, take on more tasks, and finish side quests as part of a bigger main adventure. As you reference your map, you see where you’ve been, you know where you are, and you are more comfortable with the direction in which you’re going because of the choices you’ve made. I told my therapist that I am stuck where the map is covered in damn fog – I don’t have pieces or keys or a direction to go in! I have ideas and thoughts about what to do and what to plan, but I feel like everything I try isn’t working and I have no idea what to do about it. 

Therapist: Yes, you do. I’ve told you we can do accelerated resolution therapy, EMDR, or a couple of other exposure therapies. That’s how we treat PTSD. (At this point, I’m thinking – yes, and I finally agreed to try those even though I have my reservations…but I have no idea what you’re waiting on.)

She went on to describe a situation where someone wasn’t able to process the grief of losing her first husband and it was now affecting her current marriage, but with EMDR, she was able to process and finally move forward. Then, she mentioned another situation where someone lost a child after a horrible accident while they were on the way to the hospital in a helicopter.

Therapist: Why do you think this mom wouldn’t want to try to treat her PTSD?

Me, I know this answer very well: Fear. She’s afraid to feel. She’s afraid to experience the loss of her son all over again. She’s afraid to forget. Fear. I realized through some help from friends a couple of months ago that fear has too much control over me.

Therapist: Do you know when people are finally ready to try something different?

Me: Umm?

Therapist: When it finally affects every part of their life – home, work, when they are with friends, and when they’re alone..

Me: Well, hell, I’m at that point…been there for a while.

Me: I wish I could just allow myself to be angry at Tom. I always told him I didn’t want to be angry with him, so it’s something I always tried to push down.

Therapist: Why do you think being angry would help?

Me: Because it helped me get over my first long-term, long-distance boyfriend. I was angry with him for being more and more disrespectful, for not choosing to move closer for a couple of years (he stopped one class and finishing his thesis shy of graduating grad school), and for not considering what I wanted out of life. There were other factors that made me see I did not need to put up with him, so I ended it. Hah, then I met Tom two years later, and we see where the hell I am now.

Therapist: So, you said that you would cry and get angry with Tom whenever he would finally get home…

Me: Yes…he would pull up under the tree in the front yard so my parents wouldn’t know when he was coming or going. (They can see my driveway from their house.) He would walk up to the door, and I was always there to meet him. By the time he would finally walk in the door, I was relieved that he was alive and not in jail. Sometimes, I could patiently wait on him to tell me what happened. Sometimes, I would be crying and yelling at him. He knew what was going on with me. He watched me change from trusting him to being in so much pain, fear, anxiety, and sadness. There were times when I wanted to flip the latch on the door and not let him in.

Therapist: You really have won the award for being the most enabling person in the world. (I nod in complete agreement to this statement.) You had a choice when he finally would come home. What were your choices?

Me: I could do what I did and let him in, or flip the latch and kick him out.

Therapist: Why didn’t you flip the latch?

Me, Shit. I do not want to admit this answer aloud. (eyes start watering): Because…(starts crying)…because I knew he wouldn’t stay. He wouldn’t choose me. I knew that then.

(Pause…after all, I hadn’t cried in front of her before…)

Therapist: What would you have said to a friend if she called you and just told you what you told me?

Me, I know this answer too…because…this is what I’ve been holding out hope for. (Please note: I am not trying to put pressure on or make anyone feel bad. Everyone who has been there to support me through this has done everything they can, and I fully appreciate everything you guys can do.): I would tell her, “Honey, hold on. I’m on my way over.” (crying harder) I’d tell her that you are not alone, and you do not have to do this alone. I’ve got you. I am right here.

Therapist: But, what if she tells you it’s not you that she wants.

Me: I’m there as one friend supporting another. And…this is what I want, what I need… People don’t want to feel so alone. They want to know and feel that someone is there. To have someone there while I feel this. (So, I don’t have to be strong for once.) I knew, on some level, Tom wasn’t going to come back to me. I…was so angry at his dad for dying. (more crying)

Therapist: That event is probably what started it, but Tom continued to use drugs and then it altered his thinking so much that he is not who he was before.

Me: Yes, but he had a choice before it completely took control.

Therapist: You’re right. He did have a choice, but he chose drugs. You knew about his history and a bit of his family history. Why didn’t you just walk away from him in the beginning?

Me: Because he wasn’t entirely truthful about how much drug use was in his history. But, besides that, I fell in love with what he did and who I thought he was. Our first date, we didn’t even eat. We talked so much. We spent every afternoon together, then we slept over on weekends. He would make me lunch, and we would eat at his jobsite. (crying again) I never had to ask where he was or who he was talking to because he told me. We were open about everything. He knew when I was upset. He could just tell if I was holding something back. (crying even harder) I had been more honest with him than I had with anyone in my entire life. He could hug me, and I felt loved and safe. And, he just threw me out with the trash.

At this point, the hour was up, and we needed to leave. She looked at me as we walked each other out, “well, you can’t say you haven’t cried in a while anymore.” I smiled shyly, feeling just a little lighter, “I guess you’re right there.”

As I finish typing this up, my anxiety is most definitely still present. I know I’m still a long way from completely moving on, but I think this was a breakthrough step in my book. When I tweeted about last night’s therapy sessions, I didn’t expect it to even be noticed let alone receive the likes and replies. I am truly touched by the support I’ve been receiving. Thank you all so much…as someone whose self-worth has taken a severe hit, it really means the world to me. ❤️

Outer You vs Inner You: Who are you?

Everyone experiences change from time to time. We grow, we age, and we learn. We try something new. We move to a new place. We get a new job. We go back to school. We meet new people. We fall in love. We have our hearts broken. We lose someone we love. We fall down, and we get back up. We try again. We adapt. We gain experience and find out more about ourselves. Some things may never change, while other things evolve with time.

Think about who you were when you were in high school.

I moved across the state between my 9th and 10th grade years. I went from a class size of roughly 300-400 students to around 1,200 students. I was terrified. I was leaving my friends and having to start over in a new town at a new school. What helped with this transition was band. I played the clarinet. During my years with the high school band, we had kids from all walks of life. We weren’t made up of just one group, but every group. I’ve always been pretty reserved and quiet, but in band, I learned a lot about leadership, teamwork, and responsibility. I was the section leader and library staff manager in 11th grade, and then, I tried out and became the drum major (student conductor) for the marching band during my 12th grade year. I learned how to project confidence when giving commands, and I felt like I had a responsibility to be someone the students in my band could depend on. I was the first person on the field before our shows started, and I was the one the entire band looked to for direction.

Think about who you were in college.

I continued band in college and was moved up to section leader after my first year. Again, we had students from all over campus from every type of degree program. I started working on my mechanical engineering degree and math minor. We focused a lot on teamwork and using new technology to solve problems. I decided to try my luck and applied for an internship at NASA. I was accepted and had one of the best summer experiences ever. In fact, I had so much fun that I went back three more times. Twice as a research associate and then I was promoted to Operations Manager for the last two summers. I took several honors classes throughout college and graduated with a 3.29/4.0.

Think about who you were during your early career.

I immediately got a job as a mechanical engineer quoting, designing, and fabricating steel tanks and pressure vessels. Over seven years, I went from mechanical engineer to project engineer to project manager to lead engineering business analyst. I implemented the accounting software which I knew inside and out. I even had to do all accounting manager responsibilities for six months before the company transitioned to a new owner.

Think about who you are now.

Now, I work in project financials. I’ve been with this company for just over a year. I’ve been trying to bring new ideas to the table and implement improvements on all of our current processes. I had an excellent one year evaluation which led to a promotion and a raise.

What have we not talked about? I’ve told you about who the outside world sees. This is the person you would meet at a conference or out in public.

Okay, so who are you when you can relax and be you?

Well, the previous posts on this blog take you through a lot of my intimate experiences with sex and spanking. Tom was the first person who tried to understand what I was yearning for. To his credit, he read every blog entry before I gave up blogging. He also read a private journal where I endeavored to be as open as possible with him. For a couple of years, he tried. And then, he didn’t.

For the time when he was trying, I discovered a part of me that I didn’t know existed. I wasn’t just this confident, strong, responsible, and independent young woman who could solve problems. I was also someone who needed a break from the stress of being the one who was always depended on. I needed someone else to take over for a while. I needed to know someone cared about me. I needed to be held. needed to be able to let go.

When Tom’s dad passed away, I started losing him. I stepped up and went above and beyond because that’s who I am. I am a fixer. I am a giver. I am dependable and loyal. I was more than capable of handling whatever life threw at us because I had to be. I could get us through this. I just had to be strong enough, caring enough, loving enough, and want it enough.

As it got harder and Tom gradually pulled away from me, I pulled away from who I was and what I wanted. I stopped blogging, stopped keeping up with others, and wasn’t even available for my friends anymore. My entire world revolved around Tom, his addiction, and the daily shit he put me through. After I finally couldn’t take it anymore, I told him, “It’s me or all of this (referring to his drug use and the house his drug addict friends were in – he was at another addict’s house in the middle of a work night in my damn car that I needed to get to work in the morning).” He chose, “All of this.” “You need to move out.” (He didn’t make it back home in time to take me to work the next morning. I ended up having to call my dad, so I could be fucking responsible and go to work.)

In August of last year, I wrote something that I considered posting here. But, I was not ready. Instead, I shared it with a dear friend who encouraged me to also share it with my therapist. I’m choosing to bring it up now because I know I am not the only one who has felt this way. In fact, I still struggle with it every day.

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I am the person who has done everything my résumé says I’ve done, but what I can’t seem to reconcile is how is that the same person who wrote the following.

“Outer You vs Inner You”

Are the versions of you drastically different? Do you act differently? Do you hide behind a façade? 

The versions of me are very different. I do act differently depending on the situation, and I do hide behind a much more outwardly acceptable personality. 

At work, by some miracle, I’ve been able to hide what’s going on inside. Instead, I appear confident, ask questions, present ideas, work well by myself and with others, and strive to change things for the better for everyone. Before a meeting where I know I have to speak, I’ll get nervous, but I push through and am not afraid to throw out ideas. I am very mindful of others and how they do their jobs, and I do everything I can to make all of our work days a little easier.

When I’m around family and friends, they know I have some self-confidence issues. However, other than that being all in my head, I am a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need to rely on anyone. I own my house, I am about to buy a new vehicle, and I have a decent job where I am making more than paycheck to paycheck.

Underneath the Wonder Woman façade, I feel everything. I am free, lost, relieved, sad, excited, hurt, broken, happy, angry, and frustrated. I am dealing with imposter syndrome. I am dealing with a break up after years of living together. I am excited by new possibilities, but I am afraid of rejection. I am vulnerable and full of insecurities. I am hopeful yet still struggling to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

I know it is no one else’s responsibility to help me. I know only I can learn to cope and walk this road. I know it takes time. But, knowing all of that just makes me feel so much more alone. I feel guilty for reaching out to people who understand – I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I don’t want to sound like a broken record – same shit, different day. I don’t want to bring someone else down because I feel like hell. I feel stupid for even talking about what I’m going through because I feel like it really is no big deal especially when I know other people are going through so much worse than my little first world problems. Also, I’m confused because what I feel doesn’t align with how I think I should feel or how I think I should handle how I feel. If I remove myself from the situation, I could tell you exactly what’s wrong, what to try, and how to start working through it. So, what’s the problem?

Avoidant behavior. I am acting like nothing has happened. I do things to prevent myself from thinking too much, and I spend time with people who I do trust but not enough to completely let go around. I am ignoring the desperate need to breakdown and let go. Why? Because it’s easier than dealing with everything. I don’t want to fall apart alone because I miss being held and comforted, which only emphasizes the loneliness and spirals me down even further.

But, you know what? Life goes on and stops for no one. So, if I don’t have time for this – for me feeling sorry for myself, how can I expect anyone else to have time for it – for me.

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Who are you today?

I’m not sure. Would you believe things got worse in the time since writing that. I feel like I’ve lost so much self-confidence and self-acceptance that I find it incredibly difficult to trust myself. I have fallen into periods of being depressed and painfully numb. I’ve gone through many anxiety and panic attacks. I still haven’t been able to really focus consistently at work, and I feel like I’m barely doing the minimum to get by. I hit a point where I felt like I lost everything about me. I haven’t even been able to cry in months, and I want so desperately to experience what’s in my pinned tweet with someone I can really trust – “What I wouldn’t give for a wall-breaking spanking, the cathartic release kind of crying, and some “it’s okay – I’ve got you” aftercare, followed by some restful sleep…”

Last week was the first time in a long time where I felt a little hope in the darkness. I held on to that hope and wrote my first blog entry in four years. It’s time to start sharing my story, to try new things, and to continue recovering.

I want to take a moment to thank many of you for the encouragement you have given me since I took these small steps both here and on Twitter. Your support and kindness mean so much to me. ❤️

Browsing through old files…

I’ve been browsing through old photos and notes on my iPhone recently. I have photos dating back to 2011 and notes back to 2013. I thought that maybe it was time to start deleting and/or archiving things – things I didn’t want to accidentally come across that would remind me of my ex.

I guess now is as good a time as any to inform my returning readers that Tom and I broke up on May 8, 2019 after being together since February 27, 2013. A glimpse of some happier days from our time together is captured in the posts on this blog from 2014-2016. You are welcome to revisit or browse through the archive. You might be asking why I don’t just download and delete these old reminders of the past. Well, I guess that’s because the posts do hold a lot of good memories and feelings that I don’t want to forget. In addition to real experiences, I also have a fair amount of stories and scenarios that I wished could have happened. I think I owe it to myself to remember what I wanted then and what I still might want now.

Anyway, on a much lighter note, I wanted to share something I came across that actually has nothing to do with me, except for the part where I saved this particular blog post in my Notes app. It was posted back in 2015. I honestly didn’t remember saving this at all, until I went back and read it. And, wow, I definitely remembered why I saved it! This post has one of my favorite stories in it! So, now, I absolutely must give a shout-out to my wonderful friend Erica and encourage all of you to take a break and go read this. Erica Scott’s “Just Ask Me”

Four Years

It’s been four long years since I last posted anything here. I am truly sorry that I pulled away from this part of my life. I stopped blogging, I stopped reading, and I stopped engaging. I’ve been wondering if any of the links that once brought you here are even still available. I cannot promise that I am back with any consistency. I cannot promise that what I do post will always be on that specific topic that connects all of us together in this online community. My self-confidence is in slow recovery mode, and I just don’t know if I’m really ready to be back.

So, what am I doing? Nervously peeking through the crack in the door to see if anyone is still here after all this time.

Why now? I’ve thought about coming back many times, but ultimately anxiety would get the better of me. The desire to reach out was in constant battle with the fear of rejection. Home life became emotionally and psychologically unmanageable, unbearable, and all-consuming. I have been using what little willpower I could muster to continue being responsible by going to work every day. I have been going through most of my days fully dependent on autopilot. I think, I hope that I am finally strong enough to try to do more and to try to find me again.

What happened? To quote what I told a friend back in October after helping her through a particularly rough day, “One of these days, I’ll catch you up on my end. It’ll be a hell of a story.” I have not decided how much I should really share on such a public space. I have a feeling I will inevitably share some things because I am still broken, but I am also healing. Perhaps, by sharing some of my personal experiences, there is a possibility that I will help others. Maybe we can help each other move forward together.

So, for those of you who have been here before, I truly thank you for returning. For those of you who are new, I thank you for stopping by and hope to see you again.

As always, I’d love to hear from you in the comments, on Twitter, or through email.

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I’m really not sure why it is so difficult to sit down and come up with a post these days. This time last year I was posting about once a week. How can I go from once a week to once a month or less?

Honestly, I think it’s become difficult to share things…to open up. I don’t want to complain about things because it sounds like I’m nagging. I also don’t want to make a huge deal out of good things because …maybe, I’m just afraid that they won’t happen again if I mention it a lot. So, I end up not saying or sharing anything.

Where’s the middle ground?

Why have I pulled away from blogging?

I do think about it at least once a week, but it’s like I’m afraid to jump back in. (sigh) I’m afraid of sounding like a broken record. Sometimes I’ll read some of my older posts and think, “I still feel that way,” or “that hasn’t changed.” Sometimes I feel like I’ve lost something…like I’m missing a good friend that’s moved away.

I don’t know how to talk about it because I don’t know what it is.

I sound really bummed out, but actually things are going pretty well right now. Work isn’t bad…a little busy at the moment, but I think I can handle it. Our families seem to be doing well or at least getting better. I think Tom and I are going to try to hang out more with one of my old friends and her boy friend. We got together a couple of weeks ago for her birthday and had a good time. I think we will plan another date night in a week or so.

I’ve started reading Livia Grant’s the Passion Series again…I really don’t know what it is about this series. I feel so connected to it, so emotionally involved, that the characters just come to life for me. The next book in the series will hopefully be released soon. I know I can’t wait!

This post sounds ridiculously random to me, so I think I’ll stop here and get some sleep.