On motherhood decisions

It is not difficult for me to be a single parent in terms that most people would apply. Financially we are quite capable of living within the means of my paycheck unless something unforeseen happens (therapy bills, new roof, etc.) that set us back. Otherwise, we do just fine.

Except that we don't. I lied. That whole paragraph above is how I want it to be but with a teen, it isn't working out so well. It's not entirely his fault. It's not entirely my fault. But I dread the part that IS my fault because I already watched my own mother do this and I can't understand why I'm doing it too. It's not because it's easy to do it as I watched and learned it from her, it's because it's easy to do it this way. Let me explain.

My son and I have a wonderful relationship. While he used to tell me everything, now he withholds some of himself, holding "secrets" that he believes I do not understand because he's a teen and I'm not anymore. I remember this happening to me as well. I remember feeling completely alone, isolated, and worst of all, my mother was my worst enemy because she picked on me and raged at me. Even at my age now, I hear from people that she knew that I was the best child but the worst teenager and my brother was the exact opposite. However, people also ask if I'm the "smart one" because they measure intelligence according to schooling. I didn't get bad grades, but I was no math brain and I'm still not. A fish told to climb a tree will always be a failure. I am good at many other things that people do not seem to measure as important. I'm fine with that.

I remember one of the only compliments my mother gave me was that I was a better mother than she had been. At the time, I held terrible secrets. I protected this child's father when I should have turned him in for child abuse. I did leave and take our son, but not before beating myself up to the point that I was no good as a mother in my own head. As much as I'd like to have lived up to my mother's compliment, I can say that I am a better friend than a mother at this point. My son and I are friends and that's what's getting us into trouble. You see, Mom always said that you couldn't be friends with your child and be their parent also. I disagreed then and I disagree now. Problem is, I don't have a manual on how to do this. It is my deepest gut feeling that this view on parent/friend relationships being impossible is flat wrong. Just like always though, I can only tell you it is a gut feeling, I cannot tell you WHY. Not just yet. Not until I've pondered through it and can give it to you in words. In the meantime, I'm battling my son. I'm battling me. I'm battling to survive.

My son is 13. He will be 14 in just a few months. With terrible depression and his grades crashing, I pulled him from public school, put him in homeschool and therapy. It was my fondest hope that I could get him into an online public school, but it didn't work out. Anyway. Per agreement with his therapist, my son is supposed to set his alarm for 7:30 or so, call me. Do his studies (this should be a few hours with some breaks when he needs them), call me again. Do two chores, call me again. Then finally he'd have free time. Per discussion with my fiancé, my son is to go to bed at 9:30 so his depression is not affected by lack of sleep. Young son does not like the 9:30 idea and I must admit that he is generally up when I am trying to get ready for bed at 10 and 10:30. I tell him to go to bed and then I'm in bed and once I sleep with Prince Xanax, there is nothing that awakens me til nearly 2 a.m.

I don't leave my son lists. I expect him to call me when his alarm goes off like he's supposed to do. I expect him to do his studies and write down EXACTLY what he did in his study notebook. When he calls me, I tell him his chores. Except he doesn't. He doesn't set his alarm. He sleeps in the computer room now, where there is no alarm. He doesn't write his studies in his notebook. I don't think he's really doing them. He's on the internet late at night when I wasn't aware that he was doing such a thing. He doesn't call me. Then he doesn't do his chores either. In order for him to do what he's agreed to do, what he's SUPPOSED to do, it is apparent that I must get angry once a week (preferably on Monday morning) and yell a lot. He has to be thoroughly cowed (embarrassed, subdued, strong-armed, terrorized, crushed, humbled, scared) and THEN he will do as he is told.

This is infuriating. Why should I have to get angry for him to do as he is told? Surely there is another way that will not have me fidgeting, questioning myself, anxiety-ridden and guilt-ridden. Surely there is a way to do this that won't make me question my already extensively battle scarred self... those scars are from me, myself and I. I put them there. I am my own worst enemy. Then the guilt at that.

Guilt! I am overwhelmed by guilt. I'm not making my son stay on task. Sometimes I lack the energy. Sometimes I lack the "give-a-shit." Sometimes I just think to myself, "Tomorrow. There is always tomorrow... I will have the energy then." Weekends come and I use those to rest and get housework done. Sometimes my house is fairly clean. Within days I wonder what the hell exploded in my kitchen that shit is now all over the place. I am a good part of the problem. At the end of all this, I end up with sores all over my body, the feeling that I'm not good enough and feeling completely overwhelmed by life in general. I suck as a mother, I'm a much better friend.

I let this happen. My mother did this with my brother. She was much harder on me. I swore I wouldn't treat my child the way my mother treated me and I don't. But I do treat him like she treated my brother, and the spoiled little brat is still a spoiled little brat.

It's not that my son is a bad person or a bad child, or even a bad teenager. It is that I let him do things that I should not. When I am given a directive such as making him go to bed at 9:30 at night, I tell young son to do so and then the arguing starts. Oh god. The arguing. The only way to end that is to either walk away and say "Fuck it," and go the fuck to sleep feeling guilty that I'm a shitty mother, or to end up yelling and vanquishing him completely, then going to bed full of anxiety and guilt that I'm a shitty mother for yelling. I'm not nice when I yell. Once I'm yelling, it means I lost my temper and when I lose my temper, pain is fair game, even dealing emotional, forever type pain. I say things when I'm angry that are hurtful and full of hate and rage, things that take people to their knees, then bash them to the ground and make them hurt forever. I say things that never go away. I know... Mom did that to me as well.

There is the problem. It's not Mom. It's that when I lose my temper (which I try so very very hard NOT to do, to the point of passive-aggressiveness) I haven't managed to learn to control myself. Wow. 42 and still a bitch when I'm angry. I don't just get angry, I am sudden full fury. There is no inbetween for me.

While I'm busy trying not to lose my temper, life goes on. My son gets older. He dives into his PS3 or movies from Netflix and disappears from life. He doesn't walk the dog every day. Sometimes I'm fine with that because I remember that there's a pedophile living on our block. Sometimes I'm not fine with that because he COULD go another direction, but then he could still get picked up or stolen. *deep sigh* Life goes on. My son gets taller. He is rough with me. I start it, he doesn't rein in his strength. He says he doesn't know that he's that strong. I understand because he has grown so much so fast and I remember suddenly being strong enough to control a horse better and not quite having the hang of things yet, overdoing it here and there. I remember bloodying my little brother's nose when I only meant to give him a light slap. Yikes. I know.

Life goes on while I wrestle with my interior demons. My son grows and learns bad habits from me because I do not rein him in, with me feeling caught in a web because I cannot find the borderline. This isn't about him, it's about me. But it's affecting him terribly. My god I'm a horrible mother. I die in my guilt when I get to this point. I feel horrible. Like a horrible worthless person. I do not deserve to raise a child. It is a great honor to do so and yet I'm screwing it up.

Once in a while, I see the high points. I see that my son has the capacity for great gentleness and empathy. He can handle the smallest animal with compassion and gentleness, and the oldest human with compassion and tenderness. When I am hurt or scared, he cares for me completely, cooking for me, bringing me medicine that he knows I need (inhaler for asthma, xanax for panic attack, etc.), or covers me with his blankets, gives me his stuffed frog and calling the dogs to surround me during a lightning storm when I freeze in the hallway. If I get sick and cannot do something, he will go out and weed, or take out the trash, or do the dishes, or do the cooking, or a combination of any of these things. I know that's the adult in him that comes out. I also know that I am part of the reason for that adult behavior and that gives me hope for both myself and for him.

In the meantime, my son is also a teen. So while he pushes the boundaries like a normal teen, all I can hope for is the best while I do my best; that he will survive into and through adulthood as a thriving happy being with the skills to adapt with positivity to any situation. Because in the end, that's all that really counts. It isn't grades or regurgitated information in public school. It isn't math. It isn't chemistry or geography. (Those can help depending on work field, but are not ultimately connected to positivity nor happiness.)

Off I go to wrestle with myself while I work through self imposed guilt and try to raise my son. Wish me luck.

To Deliberately Disobey

I got up this morning the same way I did last night, unhappy with myself and knowing my master would be disappointed in me. He told me to get off the game at 11 pm and be in bed by 11:30. At the time of my decision last night, my thoughts were lackadaisical, "Eh, it'll be okay." This laid back way of thinking did not serve anyone at all well, certainly not Him. I know better... I do.

Why is it that my best blog writing occurs when I cannot possibly write it? In the shower!!! Jeez who knows what all I will forget. But I will put down what I do remember and all new thoughts that occur here.

The difference between disobeying and obeying is the same as going to bed and awakening upset as to getting cuddled both times. Now that I have calmed down a bit, I can assure you that He will not yell at me. He doesn't do that. Somewhere in my upbringing I learned that to disobey means a brutal verbal stripping of my self-confidence. Master is nothing about fear nor is He ever domineering. He is a pure Master and knows exactly what He is doing.

For me, disobeying and then lying about it is nonsense. I will be upset about it and He will know it. Then when would He ever know if I ever told the truth?? He would begin to question my every move (something I do myself when someone lies to me) and that I cannot endure. This is not something to be senseless about. Relationships have been lost over lies and I cannot do it anyway. First thing I did when my eyes opened was text him. I wasn't out of bed. I hadn't gone to the bathroom nor taken the dogs out. I had to tell him... HAD TO. RIGHT THEN.

Then I discovered a horrible thing. My mother always let me choose my punishments - she said that I always punished myself far worse than she would have. I'm not sure if the result of her idea was what she had in mind though. This morning as I got up, I questioned whether or not to take my pills! Whether or not I deserved to take them and feel okay today. I questioned whether or not to lotion & moisturize my body. I questioned everything that had to do with care of myself!

Immediately I recognized a problem. I am HIS property and to mistreat myself over anything at all means I am mistreating something that belongs to HIM. So I made myself wash my sinuses, take my pills and shower. I brushed my teeth. I shaved. Now this part, the shaving, that wasn't the best idea. I knew it when I did it. My armpits have dead skin in them from the friction burns my first week working out. Shaving is not a good idea YET. My legs have sores on them so shaving is painful at best. I did it anyway. I couldn't stand the hairiness any longer. It was not so bad, but it wasn't great. I did lotion. I did everything I regularly do to care for myself in the morning.

You see, once I realized that it was self-punishment imposed if I didn't do those things, I realized that a) I was taking punishment into my own hands --- WRONG and b) I was mistreating His property --- also WRONG. So I did those things despite the screaming in my head telling me I didn't deserve to be taken care of.

How can a person think, "I don't deserve to be taken care of?" How fucked up is that? He would tell me to stop right now and not go further with that line of thinking, that of course I deserve to be taken care of and that He loves me. At least, that's been the record thus far, I can only hope that He will tell me that again. *sigh*

All this questioning of self. I didn't scratch though!

I did manage to hurt myself this afternoon... when getting up my right knee popped quite painfully so now it's wrapped. Jeez. Can't take me anywhere.

Anyway. I am not happy with my choice last night. It was wrong and I knew it then as I know it now. Won't do it again!

I'm sorry, Maître. Please forgive me.

Treading Water.

I made it. I made it through the holidays. We did it quietly. We did it peacefully. We did it together. My Master is not yet here, of course, but we keep track on the computer of the status of things. Hopefully he will come here within the next six months. Here's to keeping fingers crossed!

Today I started something. Well yesterday I started it, but today I actually wrote it. I wanted a Jar of Happiness. I want for at the end of this year, 2013, that we as a family can and will sit down together and open the jar, pour out the contents and read all the good things that happened this year. That means every day we write down something positive and happy for that day that happened or that we did or felt & we put that paper in the jar. It will be so nice to sit down after a year and not have regrets to rue about.

That's what people do, you know. Regret. They spend an entire year working, hauling, straining, pulling, playing, and in the end, at the end of the year, they make vows to change things based on...

Regret.
What a bastard beastie is that one!


A better idea! To end the year remembering the happiness, the fun, the positives! Then end the year happily and start the new year making vows if you wish, but not regretting a single day of the previous year. That is what I want.

I'm treading water, you see. Like we all do. Spending every day, working, hauling, straining, pulling, playing... worrying, feeling tired, emotional, like a candle burned at both ends. The candle that burnt with so fiercely, so passionately, so brightly. It feels as if everyone in my family may believe I am burnt out now. I cannot truthfully know! But here's the thing... I discovered today that I am no longer a friend of one of my uncles on Facebook.

*arched brow??* 

Truthfully, I cannot remember if I unfriended him! He cut me out of his life, having taken the side of a previous spouse because they share the same hobbies. Yes. I said it. The men... share the same hobbies. I am sure there is more to it than that. I think it has to do with the hard reality that he believes he is right in that three or more people cannot make a relationship work. My argument was that he'd never seen such a thing because the only people who came to him were the people who were having trouble --- psychology has its downfalls. For him, it would mean that I was right. He would never admit to such a thing. On Facebook he and my ex continued having conversations while I faded out of the picture entirely. Next I noticed that I could see nothing he had said anymore either, he had blocked everything but his main photo, even his family photos were blocked from me. Perhaps I unfriended him in a moment of anger when I finally had enough of that and I simply cannot remember it? I can tell you this, it was eating at me that he had made his profile so that I could no longer see anything he said or posted, his photos, nothing... but that he still spoke regularly to my ex. It is probable that I was the one who took such rash action in unfriending, to tell the truth. But I simply cannot remember. If only my memory would work properly!

Depression is not your friend. It is certainly not mine!

Treading water is my life. Reading that I should be living, not waiting for later days, unable to move forward, only moving through time as if I am a faulty camera with lagging battery left on to record the moments. Today I changed that. I went in and unsubscribed to everything that I felt would cause negative feelings and thoughts in me, provoke negative reactions. I did something positive! I changed my facebook feed so that I would only see positive. Now I know how you might feel about that... there are still ugly monsters if one buries one's head in the sand. Problem is, I'm quite aware of the monsters... but I really need the positivity to pull through just now. So flowers and puppydogs, kitty's and little frogs... whatever. But it will be positive or it will not be on my facebook. I unchecked a bunch of Likes to not show their stuff in my newsfeed. Now who am I kidding? Do I really think I'll wander through the days and not go look sometimes? No. I know I will look some days. But do I need or want it shoved in my face daily? The negativity? No. I'm treading water. I need to keep my head above water, not be dragged down into the depths by monsters no one can see but me.

I watched the holidays approach with fascinated dreariness, grudgingly acknowledging the many betrayals of trust and love with the symbolism of the holidays; I glared as the calendar crept ever closer with a tiny lingering but deep hatred and anguish of time lost.  The holidays, even my favorite, Halloween, for a while now they have been and will continue to be just another day.

I said nothing to anyone on Christmas but my son and my Master. I know there is some hurt out there. To try to reach out is a burden for me. To actually assuage some of their worries for me, convince them that everything is okay for me, the task of such a thing is akin to climbing Mount Everest in porpoise form. I live day-by-day. I do not know what each new day will bring. If I get a call in an instant that someone I love died, I would just sigh and begin planning what needed doing. If I could get out of attending anything, I would. It is that simple. I am down to basics, my needs, my son's needs, my Master's needs. Our pets. Very little else. I am not meeting those needs consistently or very well, in my opinion. Master will have his own. My observations of self are cruel and overbearing. I know it.

We did put up a tree. It was the week before Christmas. The week before that I finally made myself take down the Halloween decor. Treading water. I get through the day. I get through the moment. Suddenly I find something has changed & sometimes I remember how and sometimes I do not. (Hence, my uncle with whom I am no longer friends yet I cannot remember if I was the culprit there?) Worse are the rages that appear out of the blue, hitting so quickly and with such ferocity over such weird little things, simple things, stupid things, things that nobody else really cares about... That moment of fury so white hot that my vision sharpens, all of my senses sharpen. I tend to do things during rages that I would not normally do. But I get through the rage, the momentary blinding rage where I find I've crucified someone so furiously that I cannot possibly take back my words. My family is at a loss as to why I am silent. I know why. Because in a moment it is so easy for me to turn that upon them. It is better that I am away from them.

******* I've not even told any of them Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year.

The rages are not constant, but they fuel the fire upon which I burn to get from one day to the next sometimes. The depression pulls me down, the rage within keeps me treading the waters of life and refusing to go down. Rage. I thought it had left me. "Ha! I am for better things!" I think to myself. But no, the rage of everything that ever hurt me is still in there. Dammit!

Let it go? I don't honestly know how. I try and try and think I am through it all and then up it comes again, the same rage, the same blinding fury, the same impossible physical strength. I truly thought by this age and certainly with this lack of care and being out of shape that I would have literally no strength to do the things that I could do in a Rage of my twenty somethings. 20 years hence, I still have the Rage within, the rages that blast out, and the inferno that keeps me treading the water of life.

The water of life, you ask? Isn't it more like an image of earth as a whole? The Gaia-esque visions that come to mind? You know, walking a path?  It is different for everyone I say. For me at this point in my life, living in depression is like treading water with no land in sight. You either tread water or you go down, drown and you don't come up again. Well I fight too hard for that. Even in the depths of despair I will not give up. I'd have done so long ago if I were going to do it.

Treading water. I don't like deep water. Have I ever told you that? I spent a good part of two days in World of Warcraft knowing exactly why. It isn't just the around and above you have to watch, you also have to watch for predators below you. Fortunately, a death knight can survive damn near anything. Me? I'm nothing like a death knight. I do not go into deep water. A swimming pool is different. A pond, a lake, the ocean, and so help me if you think I'm getting into that river you's crazeh... I dun think so!

I love life, always have. I like it best when silence fills my mind. That sometimes happens when I'm driving alone and I observe the scenery with absolute silence including inside my head. Going along... taking in everything in pure observation. I have no thoughts at that time. It is peace. Absolute peace. I cannot imagine living with pure observation. If it were within my limits, my abilities for job and family, I would take a vow of silence for one year JUST to see if I could do it. What would my mind do? What would my hands do? Would a vow of silence mean I could not talk verbally? Or that I could not speak at all? I wonder. I wonder what Master would make of that? Perhaps sometime he will have me do that. He always knows what this girl needs. He is just as frustrated as I am, unable to be with his girl. It is coming. He will be here.

Patience! If I have anything from fury, it is the energy that burns within that gives me the persistence to continue. Depression takes off the edge so I don't kill anything or anyone. Prison is no place for a slave. Patience... the combination has given me patience. I don't know how, but it has. I'm too tired for anything else.

I love You, Sir.

Representation...

I just read this: "A submissive female is the reflection of her Master in her actions."

The statement struck me as a truth. It is possible that you disagree. Let me lay out my reasoning, and however it may worm around in the chaotic mess that is my mind lately, I will do my level best to make it clear and understandable, rather than some wandering blather that goes everywhere and nowhere at once!

Example:
Thinking back to the TSR website, many of my memories concern "trolls." Trolls were the main reason W/we did not post there, Master and I. One troll in particular couldn't keep her stories straight, yet time and again after being called out she continued to post and sling insults at everyone. If the post began to divert course from giving her attention, guess what? You bet she posted again, intentionally dragging attention back to herself. Many lambasted her on how her words reflected her master's lack of control, to which she responded that he did not care what she said on there.

---- It is commonly said that action speaks louder than words.  ----
W/we saw that the continued ACTIONS of her posting to divert attention to herself, to deliberately lie to others, and to speak as if she were better than everyone, downsizing everyone who disagreed with her... those actions reflect a complete lack of self-control. It is my humble opinion that if a slave has such lack of self-control, that said slave would be refused the permission to post by any true Dominant to whom that slave belonged. This is merely this girl's opinion, however, not necessarily a worldwide reality!


My Feelings On That Girls Actions & Words:
I ... am... dumbstruck by such idiocy. How could any good slave possibly be willing to flat out lie on their posts, let alone treat others so disrespectfully, and their Dominant would allow such behavior? First, let me tell you that I do not now, nor did I ever, believe she was truly in a D/s relationship in any way. The idiocy of her statements simply gives away what she really was and probably still is... she is a liar, a compulsive attention whore. That is all. If she truly is in a D/s relationship, I sure don't understand it. She tops from the bottom, is a self-proclaimed brat. My Master would never have her. A good many masters & mistresses on TSR stated the same. As a matter of fact, it was within just a month's time of her first posts that my Master disliked her intensely, though at the time she seemed on very good behavior. Boy, can HE make excellent predictions! Master has excellent insight on both situations and people. There are many good reasons I call Him "The General!"


***  For Later Discussion with Master:
Now in writing this, my dislike for the troll's actions and words is revealed. And yet, because I write it down, I feel I am judgmental in writing such things. Where the troll was so judgmental of others, so I am judging her now. Does this make me a bad slave? Does it mean I misrepresent my Master? I shall have to ask my Master.


On Representation and Reality:
In my opinion, yes, a slave's actions and words do indeed represent their master. A slave represents their master in thought and deed. Our thoughts become our words, our words become our actions. Do not confuse an adult with a child, however. A child that may be reared properly and still become a serial killer; a child is an unfinished human in terms of development, without true consenting ability and without a true idea of actions and consequence. Only adults can consent to such a thing as slavery and full submission with a full understanding of action and consequence, right from wrong. Perhaps if a slave is mouthy and hateful toward others, it may show that his/her dominant takes pleasure in seeing the slave become "top slave" and verbally dominate other slaves on the rise to the top of the slave "pecking order." There was such a case on TSR; this was a completely separate couple than "troll girl."

My idea of right and wrong on part of a slave's actions is not necessarily reality for all slaves and all dominants. As stated, one master took pleasure in seeing his girl verbally abuse other slaves in her naturally dominant attitude, taking pleasure in watching her rise to the top of the slave pile in TSR. He enjoyed seeing her put fear into others, stating he had no care at all for other slaves, only caring for her, and that she pleased him as she became an alpha submissive amongst a group of submissives. He did not deem what she did or said as bad behavior (though my Master certainly would) and it seemed that she could do no wrong amongst the other slaves or dominants because she had the absolute backing of her master in his own clearly written words on the site. Nevertheless, I felt her behavior & words absolutely showed her master's belief that he himself was better than other people in general. He did act that way, as if the rest of us were all pawns to the game of his majesty, the master of his lofty submissive.

The Golden Rule:
We are taught as children (hopefully!) that we should do unto others as we would have them do unto us, meaning to treat and speak to others the way we wish to be treated and spoken to ourselves. Perhaps there are folks out there who prefer to be walked on, I am not such a one. I am, on occasion, verbally aggressive and protective when there is an underdog, when there is a cause, when there is something that I feel needs to be said in a world inhabited by bigots. I am in my 40's now. I am not at all concerned with how the people of the world think of me. I am, however, VERY concerned with how my Master thinks of me. I am VERY concerned with how I represent my Master, that I should do so in a way that he finds pleasing. Ahhhh! Paradox!

Until He is here, it is a mystery to me how I am to continue to be myself (charging forward with sword and shield, erm... pen and paper...) and still please my Master. Once He is here, this girl is positive that He will make it all clear, completely... utterly... clear.

I do hope He is patient. It may be very difficult for me to change nearly 30 years of behavior. Tried telling him that last night, as a matter of fact... hahahaha. Of course He did not budge in his statement. I am to learn to control a particular behavior. But that is a discussion for another day. Until then, and through to the end, this girl will do her level best to represent her Master in the best possible light by using her words well if and when He wishes for her to speak... and by her actions, in keeping her actions positive and kindly.

I believe that my Master wishes for me to represent Him in this way. Anything else will be, of course, summarily corrected!

Je t'aime mon Maître Adoré.

Significance of trust...

Sooo I'm blundering around in submissive journal prompts by lunaKM and I find this gem of a question:

"If you found out that someone had lied to you about something significant from the beginning, would you want to rebuild the relationship or walk away? What is your personal ‘line of tolerance on honesty’?"

Well well well. What an interesting question.

My answer?
It depends on what the lie is about. If it's something that affects MY trust of the person in regards to future lying, then I'll probably show them the door. If not, then it just depends. I'm a fairly open-minded and tolerant individual MOST of the time. (I think...)

For example, if Master said to me today that he is actually married? I would never speak to him again. It would be done, just like that. If he told me that he had another child that he's refused to talk about? I'd be gone, just like that. If he told me he's a pedophile? That would be it. I think those are probably deal-breakers for nearly everyone. Those are major lies, really.

However, if Master told me that he'd been thinking about something and just didn't know how to say it for all this time, or maybe had proven amnesia, that might be forgivable. (Pedophiles are not forgivable, nor are any of the other points given in the previous paragraph.)

Perhaps a friend tells me after 10 years of friendship that he/she is gay/lesbian. My response? So what? Doesn't affect my feeling of friendship. Doesn't affect my trust. It's an example of them having hidden something from everyone, even maybe themselves. I can't fault anyone for that. If my Master decides he's gay (Impossible, not even unlikely just flat impossible!) but IF HE DID... hypothetically speaking, I would be upset, but I couldn't be angry. As a matter of fact, I would ease his passage into another life with someone because I love him. The change of sexual orientation is not a sudden thing. However, it is such a socially charged issue that people are well-versed in lying to themselves as well as everyone else, hiding for their own mental and emotional survival. They try and try to live the way they are "supposed" to, and most people find that after a time, they cannot continue walking the path of lying to themselves with such deep unhappiness in their lives. I cannot fault someone for not even being willing to open their own eyes and look into themselves until they feel safe to do so. As a matter of fact, I would feel honored that someone chose to share such a deeply hidden thing with me, even if that took time. Don't get me wrong, it would be heartbreaking and I would be upset as hell, but it would be the personal change for me, about which I would be upset. It would never affect my friendship with my Master or significant other.

I think the gist of this whole idea is intent and type/depth of relationship. It matters one helluva lot if a lie is deliberately, maliciously kept secret by another person who initiates, pursues, and continues an intimate relationship with me, despite knowing it will hurt me. 

Comparison for comparison's sake.
Premeditated lying... like premeditated murder, that is a big deal. You intend to harm and you do it with careful planning. ("Oh sorry, did I forget to mention that I'm already married?" WTF!!)
Manslaughter is an accidental death caused by another person, it is still punishable by law because someone died. Same with lies such as sexual orientation. You didn't go out of your way to hurt anyone, you went out with the intention of living "a normal life," and when you realized something important as an issue, then someone else gets hurt by what is a complete accident of eventual revelation.

Basically I'm saying that, "Oops, I'm actually already married," (knowing it beforehand) versus "Oops, actually I'm gay," (level of self-deception in order to comply with society and familial demands) shows a huge gap on the lie factor scale between one another. Either way, I'd be hurt, but I would survive it, that I guarantee you. ;)

Once In A Lifetime.

List all the things that have happened to you only once in your entire life.

Holy shit. Are you fucking serious? I'm in my early forties, I don't even know if I can remember things that have happened MULTIPLE times unless it was fairly recent!

Naturally my mind immediately drifts to focusing on negative things, but there are some good ones too.

• I've only given birth once. 
• I've had only one caesarean section.
• You only get one birthday a year, therefore I've had only ONE 1st birthday, ONE 2nd birthday, ONE 3rd birthday. (You see where this may lead... haha)
• I've had ONE Master. I do not intend to ever have another and should anything happen to this one, I'll never walk this path willingly again. 
• I've successfully trained one mustang.
• There was only one horse with which I've truly connected and bonded with.
• Rodeo queen - once.
• I only moved to North Carolina once.
• I've flown one plane once in my life as the pilot (in training). 

Wow. Who knew?

Can't think of anything else at the moment, but I may revisit this topic. :)

Planning; reality & foresight.

Ahhhh Planning. How we all love to do it. No living in the moment for us! Hell no! We must PLAN our lives! It's human nature! We Plan to do everything! We think it through thoroughly! We get to "the moment..." annnnnnnnnnnd Reality kicks in and all our Planning is for nothing. Eventually we get enough experience that Foresight kicks in and we may entertain ideas and Planning, but we know that realistically, there is a high possibility of the Planning not becoming Reality.


                                    For example:



A fellow just came into my office with a tag to leave for a coworker that specified a particular plant he's got at his house. It is one of my favorites, Gaura lindheimeri, which unfortunately doesn't like to grow at the altitude at which I live. Deplorable, this. This plant is commonly known as "Whirling Butterflies." Tiny flowers at the end of long thin stalks "whirl" when there is a breeze. A desert plant, it prefers warm, dry climates with well-drained, sandy soil. It comes in white and pink.




I envision the plant with dreamy memories. My brain awakens as my Idealism begins the attempt to drag me down the Planning path, my very experienced Foresight saying, "Uhhh no. I don't think so." In self defense, my brain awakens "the Voice of Sensibility," the one that uses all of that lovely experience and combines it sensibly with realistic foresight in order to avoid planning ridiculous things and thereby talks me out of doing them? ...       Well anyway. That tiny voice in my head pipes up, "Where are you going with this Gaura bit?" I answer quickly, "Well, I'm Planning of course! I am thinking about gutting my flower beds next spring." The Voice quickly decides to shut down the Planning, shows me images of my flowerbed from this past spring, then fast-forwards to images of my flowerbeds now. Egad! The weeds! Catastrophe!

Reality slaps both of my cheeks!
    I freeze.
        I sigh.
            I realize that this year did not go at all to Plan.

Hmm. Gonna have to think about this.

The bedevilment!

Back to my inner brain conversation...
Idealism kicks back in, but sneakily, until it has full sentences with which to drown out "The Voice of Sensibility." Idealism starts by talking very quickly, "Naturally, according to Foresight, I should ACT NOW! Ahhh! Even better. Gutting that flowerbed NOW would be good. I could dig up everything weedy and be done with it!"  --- It is at this point that "The Voice" rolls its eyes, folds its arms and begins to tap a foot whilst staring ceilingward and counting to 10. Eventually, Idealism quiets down, knows it has lost the battle, and wanders down to a pond to kick a few rocks while mumbling softly under its breath. My brain & I both sigh in relief, having observed the whole thing whilst munching popcorn and fervently hoping that "The Voice" would not kill my Idealism. One cannot live thoroughly without at least a LITTLE Idealism, right?

Fabulous! Both my Idealism and I have survived so far this year!

Reality
Planning didn't get me anywhere this year, you see. I didn't do a thing with my flower beds this year at all. I didn't have the energy. It's not like NOTHING grew though. I have a few die-hard plants just blooming wildly, growing happily in the sun-baked clay. And look! Just this weekend, a friend told me that I have a lovely crop of weeds! ---- Hrm. Uh. Yeah. Well.... Honestly yeah, I didn't manage to raise my energy this year. I didn't manage anything but survival, however I believe that was quite an accomplishment in itself. It has been a strange year!

As I said, though, in Reality, I managed survival, which is a great accomplishment!

There are people out there for whom "Survival" isn't good enough. Just a quick peek, let's look at how Planning, Reality and Foresight affect some people in "the Real World." (Humor me as I digress, please)

According to the everyday practicing witch or Pagan, the last day of the year is October 31st, Samhain. The New Year is brought in by Dia de los Muertos, a celebration of family, memories, & ancestors. Dia de los Muertos is the current Mexican version of a very very old ritual with many names that spreads across many religions, both Christian and Pagan. Look up Bon Festival, Chuseok, Qingming, Gai Jatra, All Saints Day, etc. A few of them take place at different times of the year, however. How do the Christians feel about it? Well of course anyone who is not Christian is going to burn in hell. It's not Planning. It's not Foresight. It's their idea of Reality. Scary!






Strange how the embrace of Death is thought to be horribly unnatural by practicing Christians. Unlike Islamic religions, there is no honor involved in dying nor in the method of death for the whole of Christianity. Death is feared! Death, the Grim Reaper, quite often is equated with one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, as riding a pale horse or a black horse. Wellllll nowwwww, that's a Planning of sorts, is it not? Christians rely on biblical readings in order to Plan their lives. They Plan to "be good" and with Foresight, realize they are merely human, and since Hell is a Reality to them, they spend their lives terrified of doing anything wrong. So much for The Human Condition.

What is so terrible about death? Death is the great equalizer. Everyone dies. Christianity shuns dying and death with terror. But then, organized religion shuns everything not within its complete control. An "afterlife" of sorts is looked upon favorably, as no one has proof and therefore no control over the idea of such a thing. Death itself in the Christian view seems very negative and laced with fear. The process of dying is riddled with horrors of all sorts. The only thing that Christians Plan for is Heaven. AFTER life on this earth... they are Planning for something AFTER this. Not this reality. Not this NOW time. They spend their lives Planning for something about which they have no proof! *face palm*






I suppose a great deal of Christian's fear is based on the belief in hell. How sad for them. I'm sure Dante's Inferno (Divine Comedy) didn't help. Damn that Dante! Everlasting torture... there's some Planning for you. The perfect "Eternal One" had the Foresight to see humanity was going to act more horribly than two-year-old children throwing eternal tantrums, so of course god Planned a place for humanity to be tortured and burned forever based on ridiculous rules that got even more ridiculous over the years.

SOMEONE'S REALITY!

Atheists, well we don't worry at all. LOL! You live. You make the most of the time you have. You die. Nobody knows when. It's the most simple view, quite honestly. For me it is the only sensible view.  Oh how I like playing with wicca, but I can never believe goddess or god exist anywhere in any form other than within our own selves. To believe otherwise is senseless and cruel.







But back to my garden and how my brain works. Do you see the pattern? I'm chugging along with a thought that melts and reforms into another one... and

      Alas!

             I have shifted too many directions to stay on one solid sensible path!

You see where my ideas go. I come across something... Behold! An idea! I begin to plan. "I'll take out the flowerbed plants that should be shifted elsewhere and do just that, then replant with new stuff! Or at the very least, I'll weed!" Then something comes along... and I get distracted by Reality. All the dreams and planning turn to fluff.

Fortunately...
-- I have gained much foresight from my experiencesm thus I acknowledge that odd thinking cycle exists and that life plays with me quite roughly.

Such is life for any one of us. I tell you this!

I will survive!