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| i got inspired to type a bit tonight because of a new "old" friend that i have gained due to this horrible ordeal. See...Daddy quit talking to almost everyone after we got together. Now i understand that it wasn't unusual for Him to not return calls. i assume that He always thought there'd be another day to talk. And boy did He hate the phone.
Since all of this happened i gained a bunch of people that i knew so much about, but knew nothing about me. i was so worried that all His life long friends (and even His family) would be angry with me for His lack of communication with them. But as i've experienced completely, He was so incredibly stubborn and despite anyone's complaints or protests, Michael did what He wanted.
i'm doing my best to be in a space to journal. Mom on the couch next to me snoring. Dad on the computer (for the moment) and he tv blaring, as usual. i have so much to say. So many thoughts i need to type about, it aches sometimes. So...the quick rundown of what's been going on, with the hope that i can delve further into thoughts....
His funeral was this past weekend, on the 8th. When He died, He died in the town i live in, of course, which was not where He was from and had no friends or family other than my parents (really only my mom. We share(d) the same feelings about my father...but that's for another time). His mom and step-father came down that same day. Because He was going to be cremated (His wishes) it had to happen here. The last time i saw Him was so terrible. i had asked the fire department if i could see Him before they took Him out of our house. i was warned about the tubes but needed to see. So when the funeral home asked His mother about a family view (technically, i was told, its a body identification and there's specific rules about it because the body isn't embalmed). She asked me and i wanted to see Him so differently than i had seen Him last, and she agreed. Looking back, it was a good and bad thing for her. She didn't believe it at all and so seeing Him helped make it real, but that was also the same problem. For me, i needed to see Him again, without the tubes and bruises. i got to kiss Him again. He looked like my Daddy. The cold didn't bother me because our house was always around 67 degrees, so it wasn't shocking. i wish i could have stayed with Him longer, alone.
my mother asked His mother if she'd consider splitting His ashes. Something i didn't think about at all. His mother agreed and we picked matching "urns" which in fact beautiful wooden boxes with locks....which i find some odd sense of humor in the fact that i'm currently wearing the key to His ashes around my neck, versus Him wearing the key to my collar around His neck. i have a strange sense of humor, or maybe not. Anywho...talking about strange sense of humor, when i picked up His ashes in the two separate boxes, i opened mine. Opened the bag, dug my fingers into His ashes and let it sift through my fingers. That's not the strange sense of humor. i imagine that its not odd at all and it felt good, so fuck it if it was. i got a huge kick out of the fact that my box was completely filled with His ashes, and so was His mother's. Fucker was too big to fit in one box. That makes me smile still.
As it took quite a while to have Him cremated (it was 4th of July weekend) and then His family had lots of odd things happening. Surgeries, out of town important people...etc, it took until this past weekend until the funeral took place. In the meantime, i started talking on the phone to His old friends and even His longterm ex last girlfriend, who i ended up adoring, which is so very odd for me, as i'm such a jealous person. Its odd feeling jealous even though He's not here anymore to be jealous about. But nonetheless, i think she's wonderful.
i'll hold the dad rant aside (i think) for this post. We drove there Friday morning and moved into the old "four star hotel on wheels" as i have described (and stayed in) so many times before. Above mentioned new "old" friend picked me up at His folk's house after dinner and took me to another friend's house, where awaiting ex-girlfriend was there, and soon to arrive other old friends of His. They made me feel loved and welcomed and spent much time talking, drinking and laughing. i didn't want to leave. That seemed to be a constant feeling throughout the weekend, i didn't want to leave.
The next morning was spent with dad bitching about having to wait for other people...blah blah blah, while my stomach and heart was in knots waiting for the funeral and reception. i'm not religious, but the person that performed the service was very nice and did a good job. He was charming, seemed light-hearted and did His homework about Daddy to perform a very nice sermon. The sermon had a lot of humor and tears to it. Crying in public is so strange to me, even though i'm emotionally open, just in very strange and selected ways. i've not been to many funerals and have never been at one for someone close, so it was a surprise that people come to the front row to pay condolences. i hugged everyone and cried and felt on display to some degree, and it was surreal. All of this has been surreal. Lots of people showed, including His very first girlfriend, which tickled me. my mom came up with the 3 of us girlfriends getting a picture together, and we did.
my dad took oodles of pictures of all His friends and family. my dad and i made a dvd of all the photos i had and were sent to me (over 200!). i put "Wish You Were Here" by Floyd as the last song. i know...it doesn't mean what it sounds like. i get the lyrics. Daddy sat down with me a about a month before He died and we spent a lot of time talking about the lyrics to that song....so it fit, for me anyway.
i'm not sure i can say what i want to say. i keep trying to verbalize it, and don't seem to have much success. i've typed probably 20 different sentences 15 different ways just now, and between the tv blaring and my inability to totally put it out on the table in words right now. i know i'm not going to get it out tonight. i know i need to be home for that. So i hate that i'm at this point of not being able to say what i really need to say. So, its closing time.
i will be journaling more soon. i need to. i miss it. i appreciate, and not even remotely ignoring, the comments. They mean lots to me. Really. Thank you.
Last night i dreamt of Him. Was a fucked up party and He was with someone else and i woke up balling because He left me and decided someone else was better than me. i can't say i have dreamt of Him before much, other than an really far away feeling. Oddly enough, last night was the first time i was able to masturbate to completion, while thinking of Him. i sure miss Him.
ok...end lengthy post. |
1 bit of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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| i want to write really badly. i'm still at my parents' house and its not exactly conducive to journaling. Its odd because sometimes its a big driving force to wanting to go home. i don't have to sneak my real thoughts when no one is looking. i have so many things to say.
Today is a month since He died. The funeral is the weekend after this weekend. my folks and i are driving down south for it. i'm going to be meeting a whole mess of His old friends that He basically abandoned after He moved with me. i know so many things about them, and they know nothing about me. i've been talking to a few of them, including His ex...which has been really hard for me....but that's a subject for another time i think.
The last couple of days have been hard. i've had my head in the sand. Maybe its shock. Probably denial. i was faced with the obituary approval and the approval of the "pamphlet" they pass out at funerals. What the fuck are those called anyway. Ya....so it made it real, more than ever, so far. i can't say this any better...but i'm looking forward to the funeral. Its hanging over my head. i want to pass it. i want to go home and grieve by myself. i want to be alone and i'm horribly fucking incredibly, and any other word i can come up with to describe how intense it is, afraid to go home alone. God i miss Him.
Laughter is off. So is taste. Honestly i feel off all the way around. i guess that's par for the course. i suddenly see this emotion or that emotion and think "oh i heard that that's a common feeling" and when i examine the emotion, it doesn't look the same. It seems out of place, and honestly i don't think its because its a new feeling, but because its not what i perceive as what the emotion should be. To clear that jumble of words up, i have heard people feel guilty for laughter or fun while grieving, and i feel guilt, but it doesn't seem the same as i thought it would feel.
i have so many thoughts and i think about picking up the phone while at work and calling Him to tell Him all the things i feel, but He's not there.
And i fucked myself by not believing in a thinking afterlife and by that i mean, i can talk to Him all i want but that's only for my comfort. He's gone. i've always vacillated between believing in nothing after death or reincarnation. i hope He can go on and be the beautiful person that He could be, and hopefully without the pain and demons.
Its been such a short time that feels so long ago yet so raw. Sometimes i have hope for myself because i'm can learn from this. Most times i'm numb. Other times...i wanna give up an am frustrated that i can't. i am not going to kill myself...i just feel those feelings. i imagine its normal. At least is for me. i've thought about it on and off all my life and i don't do it and i highly doubt i will ever. Its just where my thoughts go when i don't want to cope.
Its probably a good time to go to sleep and have fucked up dreams some more. i'm not dreaming about Him much and if i am its Him so far away. i wish i could dream of Him happy. |
2 bits of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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:: music: Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here
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| i think when the dust settles i'm going to get my LJ icon, that Daddy took of my collar, tattooed somewhere.
One thing that He always wanted to do was the lye burn, as seen in Fight Club, on my pubic mound. i was so horribly frightened by that idea but knew i'd do it. i wish we had.
He's thought for me for 4 years. There's things in the house i have no clue what to do with. If the power goes out, i'm not sure i could make the entertainment system in the bedroom work. There's a safe with a combo lock that i have no clue what's in it or what the combo is. He has 2 guns i don't know if they're registered to His father (who's been deceased for 14 years) or if He got them registered into His name. Thankfully His mother is going to help me with the whole "next of kin issue" on all the stuff at our house.
i go home usually every other day. Mostly not alone, and no more than 30 minutes at a time if i am alone. Mom and i are working on cleaning everything. Maybe we'll repaint and rearrange some furniture. Honestly, if it wouldn't kill my mother, i wouldn't be here to worry about that. i fantasize about that regularly. i don't want to do this and i have no clue how i could ever be alone without Him. i know people say that as time goes on the pain lessens and i'm sure it does but how am i share with anyone what i have with Him. Everything was open, even as He was dying, He would show me what His bowel movements looked like (and i didn't know what was bad or not, i went by what He told me, even though it scared me). How will i ever have that kind of intimacy with anyone?
He fucked up, bad. Parts of me feel that some depression that had been sinking in aided in His bad decision making. Part of me thinks that He thought He knew better and truly didn't. How am i supposed to believe anyone again.
i want to go away. God damn Him for this. God damn it. How am i supposed to go home? i can make this go away. Dammit Daddy i trusted you. i'm lost without you. i miss you more than anything. |
4 bits of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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Daddy's Death Certificate
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I removed all the personal information about Him. i know its small but i think if you click it a few times you can see it.
i miss Him dearly |
N whatcha gotta say?
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| i have lots to say but i'm trying to work on what to say. i'll be posting more soon. i need to. i have pictures and things i know i want to post of us. i wish more than anything that this didn't happen. i've never lost anyone really close before. i've never let anyone this close to me before. i'm terrified and so terribly hurt. He could have prevented this. It was His fear, stubbornness, and laziness that made Him die. i'm so mad and i know i wouldn't be this mad if i didn't love Him so much but He fucked this all up.
He didn't die of a heart attack.
The official cause of death in order of highest reason of death and down:
acute upper gastrointestinal hemorrhage (He was passing a huge amount of blood the day before and still refused to let me take Him to a doctor)
peptic duodenal ulcers (ulcers in His small intestine from too much aspirin usage)
heavy use of ibuprofen and ethanol (vodka) for treatment of pain
recent tooth extraction
and marked diffuse hepatic steatosis (fatty liver) and morbid obesity
Basically He took too much aspirin, ibuprofen and vodka with next to no food (literally about 3 or 4 meals over the last month with me forcing occasional Ensures down His throat). He was taking a horrifying amount of benadryl so He could sleep, which wasn't working. He would only get about 20 minutes of sleep at a time most often so He'd take more benadryl. All of this i poured tears out over to Him and He promised me He'd be okay. His medical knowledge was so large that i trusted Him and for once in my life with Him, i wish i didn't trust Him. i cant comprehend that He died in front of me. i keep lying to His folks that it wasn't painful and was pretty peaceful but He started hollering "help help" and hit the floor then knocked me down under Him and convulsed until He died.
His folks came to town last week and His mom and i needed to see Him again. She couldn't believe He was dead and i didn't want to bear seeing Him they way i saw Him last (the coroner allowed me to see Him before He was taken out and He was full of IVs and a tube down His throat. It was ugly.) He's being cremated tomorrow so He wasn't embalmed, so only immediate family were allowed to see Him. my parents, His parents and me. i was happy to see Him more peaceful and i needed to kiss Him one last time.
i'm living at my parent's house until i can clean up the house and probably repaint. We owed less on the house than what it would cost to move else where. 1 large golden retriever and 5 cats, means i cant rent. So that all means i am going to keep the house. i just cant be there at night right now without my Daddy.
i'm so completely lost without you my Daddy. This is worse than anything i could imagine. |
4 bits of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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:: lost forever ::
| | i hate this. Daddy died yesterday morning. He had a tooth infection that He wouldn't fix and wouldn't let me take Him to the hospital. i watched Him die on our bedroom floor at 5am yesterday morning. i think the coroner is going to tell me it was a combination of things but ultimately it was a heart attack. i'm staying with my parents. He promised He wouldn't leave me and He lied. i'm lost. |
4 bits of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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| i look at my past...my life and i can't see any devastation that would make me feel the way i do sometimes. my parents are alive and together. i see my mother nearly every day. i wasn't beaten, molested, left for dead. However, i'm guilty. And sometimes angry. i find myself feeling distant. i see my mother going through the fears of old age. Her parents are close to dying. Daddy and i don't want children, if i'm even able to have them. i see myself pulling away. i feel like i should do....what good children are supposed to do and i want to step back.
my aunt, the cunt that she is, is abandoning her parents. waiting out in canada for her folks to die feeling as though that no matter what she will be given what she thinks she's owed. due to her arrogance she may get nothing. i was going somewhere else with this...entirely. i just probably did what my cunt of an aunt does, today. my mother told me that my grandfolks where thinking of giving me and my mother their million (plus) dollar house, and i put Daddy and us in the house instead. i have been abandoning my grandfolks and my mother. i'm petrified to be around them. i avoid it at all costs.
my aunt is a cunt beyond all of that. i am a cunt for knowing, whole heartedly, that i've been trying to push that all away. i'm scared of them dying. i'm scared of my mother when they die. i have no experience in this. none. and i'm scared of it all.
Daddy has been going through dark times. He's not talking to me about. i know it's about His mother. she's sick. she won't die tomorrow but He knows that that can't be said for too long. i don't know how He feels. i wish i could be His friend on His feelings but i know that even if i had experience in losing family, i'm not sure He'd think i was capable of understanding. at least that's what i'm to believe. and it's true.
i'm tired. i feel bad. what the fuck is new. i'm scared that i'm putting suck a huge distance between me and my grandfolks. i've done it also with my dad, but for different reasons. i feel that even though i need my mother, i'm doing it to her to. dad's an empty asshole, mom's horribly neurotic. step back....i feel like i need to do that with me too.
i'm gonna read this tomorrow and know i'm stupid and be happy that i privately posted this. i feel lonely, miss my collar and, deservingly, feel less than.
i hate these snippets of memory. i hate the things that happened that destroyed me....that now destroy Daddy and me. i am losing the memory of all of that horrid shit but it doesn't matter ultimately. |
N whatcha gotta say?
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| i was shocked to see that it had been over a year since my last entry. It sure hadn't felt that that much time had passed.
For the couple of people that posted that they missed me, i'm sorry that i didn't let you know that i've been doing well.
This feels rusty. It's gonna take practice to get back into journaling again. i think i stopped for a few reasons. i'd like to say that first and foremost it was because it came to be almost a chore, which i'll explain about that in more detail in a moment, but it was probably more because of laziness. i got hooked (and still am) to playing World of Warcraft with Daddy and between that and just day to day life, i just let the writing slide away.
Back to the other statement of the chore of journaling. When i first started journaling, it was because i was in pain and scared. The relationship that i was in, at that time, was failing and i was scared to be alone again. Then i was journaling because i found Daddy and i was exploring a type of relationship that i had never experienced before. The exhibitionism of posting the explicit details of our intimate lives was thrilling. It was also a good medium for both Daddy and i to understand where i was in my head and how i thought about things pertaining to us. Ultimately it became a chore of sorts.
my health had declined and so did our D/s relationship, due to the health issues, which i'll touch on in a minute as well. i felt like all i was posting about was the frustration i was feeling with being sick. And rehashing the frustration over and over while i was living it made me not feel like posting as much. i didn't want to hear me whine and i didn't want the people reading hear me whine too.
Along with those reasons, i also felt i owed posts, which i know is vain. People were reading my journal and i felt i owed it to them to continue posting. And i'm not fooling myself by thinking people came to read about my stomach problems and bad days at work. A lot were reading for the naughty photos and writings, which had all but disappeared, because my stomach hurt so badly. So, the posts that i felt i owed were, frustratingly, not available to give.
As for the health...my general practitioner told me it was fatty liver and Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). He even sent me to a "psychiatrist" because he suspected it was in my head. The psychiatrist told me to learn breathing techniques and light candles, or some horse shit like that. We demanded that my general practitioner give me a referral to a specialist who found cysts on my pancreas from having chronic pancreatitis. In April last year, a specialist performed a endoscopy and removed the cysts (with a tool attached to the tube). i have been much better since, but still have to watch how my system is functioning and what i eat and do.
In August i had a better job literally fall into my lap. They pay is better, the potential to make a better wage is there and my mom works in the same building, but i took another job working for really (rich!) crazy people that are related to each other. It's a brother/sister team this time, with their mom in the works too. He's a property buyer and a lawyer. i help the property management end of his vast collection. She's the financial controller and wearer of many hats (and about as many moods) and i assist her as well. Their 85 year old mom manages the residential properties. i deal with mostly the commercial ones.
As for the important stuff...Daddy and i are still very much in love. Things have been rough with us lately but we'll pull through and work it out. Between my problems with the pancreatitis and money problems, we've had to deal with a lot of stress and anxiety. The money problems should start dissipating soon, as Daddy got a new job yesterday, which i'm very happy and proud of Him for that.
The pancreatitis problem is much more of a touchy situation. Because my health is unpredictable, our D/s situation has been altered drastically. One day i feel fine, the next i'm hurting, which makes discipline and physical/sexual routine difficult, to say the least. Because i seem to need the routine, the knowledge that Daddy can use me anyway He wants, when He wants, not having that routine to keep my head on straight, has made my behavior suffer. It's a vicious circle, at the moment. One that is wreaking havoc on our lives.
There's been a change in my head...i don't know exactly when, it could have been as recent as yesterday morning when it finally clicked, that hopefully will start getting my head screwed on more straight. We'll make it through these difficulties, because we both need each other.
As for journaling in the future, i'm going to work on that more. Although, i have a feeling some, if not most, of my posts will be private. i think.
Until next time... |
10 bits of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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| Here's last week's post...written this week. (And woops, i accidentally set comments to be off when originally posting this...i didn't mean to. Stupid Semagic!)
Last week was a very hard hard week. With the exception of Friday Daddy and i weren't getting along much at all this past week.
Friday He took me out on a date to the movies to see The Fountain. i liked the movie. The main problem it was very quiet and a few seats away we had a 60+ year old man that snored through most the movie. i didn't say anything to him because every time i turned around to look at him, he was moving his arms so i wasn't sure he was asleep, and i surely didn't feel comfortable yelling at someone for a breathing problem. As soon as he stopped...2 rows in front of us and down some a 65+ year old man had a half hour long coughing fit. It surprises me. i guess it shouldn't. People just don't give a shit anymore. Those two men were old enough to have been taught manners. Particularly the man that was coughing. Why on earth should you subject a whole theater of people to your coughing...especially when the movie was so quiet and cerebral. It's a shame that they basically ruined the movie for us.
As for the rest of the week...whew. It was a doozy. Things had just been building up i think. Daddy has been getting increasingly frustrated with my behavior. He says that i've been willful, bitchy and full of attitude. i haven't meant to be any of those things but regardless...i know He's right.
i had been finding myself angry and frustrated a lot. i don't have anyone to talk to except for Daddy. i journal but in the past few months i haven't felt like i could vent my frustrations or speak my mind so my journal had become a chore of rehashing the latest in stomach/job/whatever problems smattered with an occasional sex story just to keep some of my readers happy. i know that's sad...but it's true.
i have a few favorite friends that i look forward to seeing posts from and get excited when they post something new i feel like an outsider...watching them from afar...sometimes with envy and awe. And even as much as i would like to share my thoughts, i've struggled with posting them due to feeling as though posting about the things i find hard to deal with within Daddy and i's relationship will create bad feelings or more frustration. i've never done this before. i've never known anyone in person that i knew well enough to talk intimately about their feelings that i knew was in this kind of relationship. i don't have any friends that i go and spend time with...which is really fine by me. i'm not a very social person anymore. i have a hard time investing emotion and time into friendships much anymore. Either i become a disappointment to them or visa versa.
The only down fall to that is that i can't talk to Daddy all the time about how i feel. Sometimes He's too emotionally involved to be able to listen to even my reasonable frustrations without being emotional about it in some way. So i get scared. i have a hard time putting my feelings into words to Him when i'm worried if He's going to be upset. i've always been that way. If i think someone i care about is going to be upset about something i have to say...i'd usually rather not say it, even if i need to.
All of this leaves me a bit more lost than i feel i should be and i'm not sure what to do about it. Maybe investing more time and emotion into journaling like i use to...before i got worried about what i was saying in my journal. The last job i had gave me tons of opportunity to journal (aka we had nothing to do there before the business went bankrupt). Now i'm at my job 3 hours a day only 4 days a week but, the last few months having all the stomach issues i've had, has left me tired and slow. Even lazy. Hell i've already been writing this journal entry for three days now (although right now i am at work doing it when i have a chance). i've read over some of my past entries and my writing style and amount of information that i allow myself to put out are drastically different. i was so astonished by how my journaling had changed that i even had an odd thought that i was getting stupid. i enjoyed journaling. It was refreshing and made me feel a bit less lost about it all.
So...i mentioned things went bad between Daddy and i last week. It wasn't the first time we've had a conversation about releasing me. We both know that if He releases me that our relationship will probably fail beyond that. He wants a submissive and i don't think i'd have any clue how to revert back to my old self and be healthy. i don't think i could be in a healthy relationship without being kept in my place. i'm aggressive, demanding, controlling, a first class relationship saboteur and not to mention laden with emotional baggage and neurotic. Leaving me to my own devices, i'm horrible.
i don't even remember where the argument started. i know i had been having a rough go in my head well before it and was trying to keep things at bay...but i'm no good at that. i just end up popping and usually without too much of a filter. Daddy told me how disappointed He was with me. i told Him that i could clearly see His regular disgust on His face when interacting with me. He told me He wasn't sure i could learn what He wanted to teach me. Ouch. He told me that i was just desperate [to be in a better relationship] when we got together (which was implying that agreed to the D/s relationship out of desperation). Double ouch.
i sometimes feel as though He'd be better with someone else. i have such a large amount of guilt with my stomach issues...well i should just say i have such a large amount of guilt ON TOP of the large amount of guilt i have for being a disappointment and a gazillion other things i'm sure i can come up with. God i'm such a fucking guilt-ridden person. i don't know why and i have no fucking clue how to get rid of it...anywhooo...i still haven't gotten it through my thick head that i'm good and i'm sure that's part of my problem. i disappoint Him because i don't have an overall happy attitude about myself.
He expects sooooo much from me. Sometimes i feel they're unreasonable. Most of those are because He and i think and learn differently. He wants me to learn the way He does. And much like ALL of my math classes in school, no matter how hard i tried to learn the way they wanted to teach me, i'd learn it for 5 minutes and the next day i couldn't repeat what i was shown the day before. It didn't make sense anymore or i just couldn't plain remember.
With the situation between Daddy and i, i tend to deal best (at least in my head) with a structure that doesn't sway too much. "This is how this is...period. This is how that is...period." and while i know that life isn't black and white like that, other than moral choices there's not too many things in regular daily life that will cause problems or get me into trouble if i chose to drive home from work a different direction one day. Where as with things with Daddy...if i chose to not ask to sit on the couch...or throw some socks on because my feet are cold without asking...then i'm in trouble. And i'm not the type of sub that hides it if i'm not actually seen by Daddy. i have too much guilt and honesty for that. Because i tend to think in "rules and no nos, gray areas, to dos, mumbo jumbo (this is where the neurotic thoughts reside) and personal reflections re: Daddy, life, love, me...etc" i try to categorize everything into those boxes. C'mon! i'm a Virgo. i looooove to organize! Problem is is that it doesn't always work that way.
i am really an intuitive person or i should say that i had always been. i find that since my choices and thoughts have narrowed that my intuition has become a tad wonky. i want to check in my organizer first. "is there a rule for this???" "weeeelll...i see something in my 'rules and no nos' box about this and it's very close to this situation now so it must be the right rule to apply" Nope. It may not be wrong but it wasn't the right answer either. Disappointment because i didn't figure it out and then i'm frustrated and angry, "how the hell am i supposed to figure out that slight change without being told?? i'm not psychic." But i'm left bottling my frustration. The times i haven't bottle, haven't been one of my better judgments. Not that He's mean about it...i just feel as though i'm being shot down. That i had a valid thought that was bothering me and the "tough it's how it is" doesn't make sense on my emotional level. i completely understand what He is saying but it has left me with creating another box labeled "bottled unresolved frustration". i know waaaah.
It's now 9:30 at night...i'm still working on finishing up my journal and i'm not sure how i feel about continuing right now. Daddy and i haven't been doing so well tonight either. We're not really fighting...we're just not really getting along. He's frustrated with me not feeling well which affects my demeanor. i scowl a lot, even when i'm not upset, i just don't know i'm doing it and it's upsetting to Him. So i worry constantly about scowling. i try to smile as much as possible, even when there's not a reason to, but that's not working either. i've tried to be joking today and they've fallen horribly wrong. He's disappointed because He wanted things to be different than they are. So i feel as though i've been selfish and not remotely submissive...and of course that makes me feel guilt and sadness.
i have more to write but other than what i just said...i wanna come back to it fresh another day. i still owe this week's post since Daddy allowed me a few extra days for last week's post.
Tomorrow we have a class about IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) which is the first step to seeing a gastrointestinal doctor about all my problems. Daddy's mom sent me a newspaper article about IBS and some new studies they've done where they've found that a 10 day course of the same meds they use for traveler's diarrhea has knocked out the problems for up to 10 weeks. So that's something to feel positive about. Hopefully i can get them to give me a prescription. i'm sick of this.
Another post soon (along with Bear pictures...i promise! Daddy is working on the main laptop so i'm the slow one that doesn't have Photoshop or my pictures). Until then.... |
6 bits of wisdom N whatcha gotta say?
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