Hands hurt wicked bad. Want. To. Type.
Made painting progress, a little bit at least. Need to do more. So much more. Ow.
Tired. Whole body hurts. Hurts like spiking up to 7 hurts. It sucks.
I should water the yard.
I’m struggling with wanting more pot than I want to be doing. I’m trying to titrate down because I can’t bring it on the cruise. I’m crossing international borders: no drugs. I’d like to be sober for a week or more before I go so that I’m not doing all of the adjusting on the plane/cruise. My current usage rate may have me running out a solid two weeks before the trip. Whine.
If I take a solid month off of pot… that might help with tolerance. But I’m going to be kinda psycho. Wheeeee. I anticipate more of a weight drop. I wonder how low I will get this time. I’m at 155. Normally that’s a weight where I look hollowed out and skinny and my pants fall off. This time my hips are spread wide and I have clear extra fat.
I feel very weird about my body. I truly do not want to be a thin person and I’m heading that way.
I was 145 lbs at age 14. I saw the upper 140’s briefly in my early 20’s when I was very sick.
I have liked being fat.
I was 165 lbs by age 16. I’ve been much happier there.
But 185 lbs is my favorite. I’m barely fat but I count. I like how I look.
I’m having feelings about this Mardi Gras month and the fact that it is actually being quite limited by Noah’s boundaries. I… don’t have a way on option to actually go be a shithead this month even though that was kinda the point. I’m kinda heading back towards “being good”. We are going to do a lot of group play.
I’m really looking forward to kicking the shit out of my submissive. That’s going to be a rollicking good time. He is very generously offering to let me take my frustration out on him. I should say yes.
I have a whole shiny box of scalpels. I may not be able to have everything I want in life. What I get to have is pretty fucking mind blowing. He wants me to carve my name into him. Surely I can find a way to make a buzz from that last a while. I mean oh my god.
My life is unreal. I need to revel in gratitude instead of being a pissy bitch.
Noah is initiating a lot more hypnosis. Which is a big deal after this many years of asking. I think it helps with my sleep trouble. I think it will help with pregnancy and labor. I begged. He didn’t want to practice with me last time. He took no initiation at all during labor and just… kinda went limp. It sucked. He promised to help. Then… he got scared and quiet. It was shitty.
He’s… setting the stage long before pregnancy even gets started this time. That’s a big deal.
We are talking intently about the M/s stuff. That’s been on the back burner for ten fucking years. It is hard to keep waiting. But I don’t want my kids growing up with a subservient mother. Why do I want this relationship dynamic so bad? I just do. I want to belong to. I want to have to follow orders. I do. Not just anyone’s orders.
Even when I resent the shit out of them.
But as a mom I don’t think I should do as I’m told. I think I should stand up and say no to things that are wrong.
So it’s complicated.
My last yee haw for a while. I’m having ambivalent feelings. It isn’t what it was advertised as for a lot of reasons. But it has to be good enough. I have to get my attitude in line. This is what I get for filling my bucket for a long time.
We are going to keep negotiating and I am going to fall in line. Because that’s the deal. I’ve been a very disobedient pet for a while here. But I need to get back on leash.
That’s the deal.