I’m feeling… like I already used up Noah’s tolerance and I don’t get more. This coming month I’ll play a lot but almost entirely under Noah’s watchful eye. I’m feeling pissy and whiny about it but I know I earned it.
Noah says I don’t think he has an inner life and I think the problem is actually worse than that. I know he has one. I’ve been restricted by it for years. I’m pissy about it. Which really sucks of me because I am far more controlling than him.
Noah’s upset that he feels he needs to watch what I’m saying to someone. But I apparently can’t trust that boundaries are in place six years after setting them.
I have never continued to slip with a given person after years of reminding. I slip with other people in other ways… yes.
I’m not in a position to be holier than thou. But Jesus Fucking Christ if I turn around and observe the boundaries Noah is setting, sorta, for a while, then tell the person “Oh I think it’s been long enough.”
I’m not the only asshole in this relationship. I’m not ready to take all the blame for fucking up lately.
I’m not actually going to get much of a Mardi Gras “month”. I’m sticking to stuff that is well within Noah’s comfort and I’m not pushing boundaries. I’ve done enough of that for a while. I’m not off leash. I’m pretty firmly on leash in what I’m doing and I’m feeling cranky about that because the attitude is that I’m getting to do whatever I want.
No. I get to do what you are comfortable with. That’s not just because of Noah. Other people have their own boundaries too.
But I’m feeling pissy.
Everyone is going in their “safe for Noah” box and I’m just fucking cranky about it.
Which sucks of me. I’m being outrageously, disgustingly selfish here.
What an ungrateful bitch. I have quite a few dates planned. I’m bitching that they all exist in the acceptable zone.
Grow up, Krissy.
I feel so tired of being good.
Yes, sweet submissive, I’ll be taking a lot of frustration out on you. I’m sure you’ll love it.
I want to go to a party alone, do drugs, and fuck whoever walks by.
I used to go to sex parties where there were pitch black rooms. When you walk in you are basically consenting for people to attempt to initiate sex and it is up to you to go as far as you want. I always brought condoms in with me.
I want to crawl into someone’s head. During sex with strangers I like to ask personal questions about their childhoods, religion, friends, hobbies…
I don’t like boundaries.
I want to be pushed and have to say no. I want to say yes. I want to try and find out, “Whoa not for me. But thanks!”
And I really don’t see it happening. Not for a whole laundry list of reasons. Valid, good reasons that are pissing me off anyway.
I’m so fucking tired of being good. That is what it all comes down to. I don’t want to be good.
Honestly it is kinda like slapping my daughter. I did it one time. I didn’t do it hard. I did it when I felt completely out of modeling good.
That road trip was too long.
I didn’t hurt her or damage her. But I fucked up. I wasn’t good. It’s been a lot easier to be good since then. I don’t think I need to do that dance over and over with her. I think I will break in other areas. I think I found that limit within myself. Hitting her makes me feel like a steaming pile of dog shit. I don’t need that feeling again.
But sex with other people. It’s like pizza. Even when it’s not that good… it’s good. So this is not the same thing as slapping her. This is so much more potentially toxic to my whole life.
I think with my cunt.
I know there is an element of wanting to bury this in wanting a baby. But only a very small piece. Mostly I just want a tiny head nestled to my breast again so bad I ache. Attachment Parenting is giving me the mandatory reason to bond and learn how to work through conflict. I have different things to learn from each stage.
My Eldest Child is starting to pull away. Barely. She’s reaching both hands back to hold mine as she walks away so I’m kinda being dragged with her. But it is starting.
My day needs me.