Surviving Together

We've made it to the end of an immensely challenging week. There seems to be no end to the vagaries that life can lay in our path these days. Certainly, it is never dull, although I think we'd settle for dull at this point, and be glad for it.

A couple of weeks back, when I wrote that I'd disintegrated in a session (after only a single stroke of the strap), and He'd let it go, Doc Avid wrote, "Can I ask, what do you think would have happened if he had pushed?"

The short answer to that question is that I don't know. There are, I think, probably good reasons for Him to have stopped when He did. It was (and is) entirely His call.

I think His judgement is that the severity of my depression is extreme enough that it warrants some caution on His part. He has background and training that qualifies Him to evaluate that.

It is not unheard of for Him to push me beyond where I am comfortable or "happy" to go. I have "broken" in session before and He has certainly pushed through that and dealt with whatever has come up. We do not use any sort of "safeword. We rely instead on our knowledge of one another and our trust in each other. He cares for me. He acts to ensure my well being physically and emotionally -- even as we engage in SM eroticism that can range all the way to intensely painful.

Is the question about what I might have wished would have happened? Wishes are something else again. I deeply wish for earlier times when we played with abandon and frequently and with joy. Part of me wishes for much more intense control, for more deeply felt dominance. As I've wobbled, I've "dreamed" that He would scoop me up and hold me tightly and reign me in so tightly that I'd be unable to spin so out of control. Of course, I understand that what I'm wanting is to shift a good chunk of the responsibility off of my own shoulders -- and I know it doesn't work that way. He can't fix this by insisting that I wear my collar; by pushing me through a session; by keeping me well spanked. Still it is appealing to dream it.

Even Masters cannot play the "White Knight" when it comes to real life. Life is not like the fairy tales I read as a child. There are real issues and real problems. Not all of those problems and issues are mine. Many of them have nothing at all to do with the erotic side of our lives; with poly, or with BDSM. They have to do with life, with family, with work, with getting on and going on.

The advocacy organization that is both livelihood and life's work for Master is facing an economic crisis of monumental proportions. The survival of the agency (and those it supports) is at risk, and so too is a significant chunk of our household income. We continue to adjust to the new constraints of the "fatty liver" diagnosis and the attendant new lifestyle changes. Himself has been battling some sort of injury to the muscles in His feet that has had Him hobbled up and sore for the last couple of weeks. No amount of rubbing and massage has worked to heal the damage so far. Too, He is attempting to cope with the needs of His aging parents, and struggling to help find appropriate care for them -- particularly as His mother moves further and further into are-related dementia. Holidays approach with their joys but also their stresses.

He has plenty on His shoulders already.

And, this last week, T worked long hours the last three days to catch up for the time she took off to be with me and for me as we all took Cleo the Wonder Cat to the vet. Along the way, she managed to pick up a fair amount of my laundry while I attended meetings and took care of "school" stuff and tried to keep on breathing.

Much of this is going to have to be handled the way our family handles so much -- with good old fashioned patience and effort and probably just time. We'll continue to seek out whatever professional help seems appropriate, as we find it necessary. We'll be as creative and innovative and strong as we can possibly manage. We'll hold on tight to one another, and pick up the slack for each other. We'll use the frameworks and structures that we have built to support and guide us to workable solutions. In the end, I'm betting it is going to come down to some variant of "suck it up and deal with it." Oh well. We're tougher than we might look. This getting old stuff is not for sissies.

And, it isn't all grim either. We have found some moments of simple pleasure, when we snuggle up together around the fire, find Pranzer cat prowling from one to the other of us making sure to spread the love out evenly, get surprised by a long forgotten bit of sexual release from out of nowhere, manage a really good session, enjoy a great meal together, have the pure luxury of shared laughter...

This afternoon, we'll bundle in together, and cheer wildly as our Ohio State Buckeyes whomp the heck out of Michigan. It is the battle we've been waiting for all season. I think we are all anticipating the escape; the break from our everyday; the time out to indulge in a bit of "tribal" wildness and frivolity.

And, as T reminds us all, the week will draw us toward the Thanksgiving holiday and a time to gather once again with our spread out parts and give thanks for all we DO have.

We survive together.

swan