PTSD and D/s....

The two don't mix well.

And I wonder if we will ever get to the point where we get it right.

One thing I hate are blogs that are all complaints. You know the ones....folks that only seem to blog when they have something to complain about. I fear that I may be one of those bloggers! When things are going well, I am content and don't think so much about writing....and then, when things aren't going well, I want to vent. I hate that. I love reading others' blogs about how great life is...or the great spanking they received the night before. Why can't I be like that?? I promise I will try harder. Because honestly, Joe and I have some really great days and they should be shared!

But on to reality....the past few weeks have been difficult. All of the PTSD stuff I have been reading indicates that the first few months a soldier is home is hard, but that at some point, six to eight months after coming home, reality sets in for them and the PTSD kicks into overdrive. That's my take and my wording, but basically, it means that they try really hard when they first get home to act "normal" and can only carry on the facade for so long before it crumbles. I think that's where Joe is. It's been just about eight months since he came home and he's having a hard time holding it together.

He has been fighting with the baby mama, his family, and me. I have done my very best to be understanding and to be the calm port for his storm. But the other day it came to a head.


He was over, angry with the world. He actually scared me. He was pacing back and forth, furious over everything. He was yelling about the baby mama, the military, his feelings that no one understands what's going on in his head, and then he started in on me. Yelling at me about things that happened months ago, his current perception that I was not listening to him, accusing me of trying to sabotage our relationship. All of this while pacing. I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk(to work off the energy) or sit down and he continued to yell at me.

About a month ago we "played" with a couple I know very well. A couple that I have been friends with forever, but never played with in a sexual manner. I thought at the time we had a great time. Joe seemed to really like them, they really liked Joe and told us they couldn't wait to play with "us" again.

Apparently Joe saw it as the "Em" show. And his insecurities spilled over into "they were just being polite, they didn't really care if he was there or not"...blah blah blah. I mean, at the time, she paid a lot of attention to him, we all had our needs met, or so I thought. And as he stood here, in my house, pacing and ranting, he started in on the "Em" show....ripping into my friends and me....that I didn't care if he was there or not. I couldn't sit there any longer because I was forbidden from interrupting him. I got up, put on my shoes and he said, "are you really walking away from me????" and I told him I was going for a walk because he was hurting my feelings and I didn't want to say anything I would regret later. I wasn't prepared to fight with him. So I left. And as I walked down the street, I heard him tear off in his car.

We didn't speak for two days. I was hurt and angry. I called him finally and apologized for leaving and explained that he was scaring me because I didn't know what he wanted from me. He finally called and apologized for scaring me, he didn't mean to. He told me he was falling apart and had to get away. He left to go down south for a few days to get away from everything. I should note here that in the past, in our vanilla days, he went south for "a few days" and ended up staying for two months with no contact from him. His going south scared me.....I worried that he would disappear. He promised me that he would not disappear and that he would be back.

When I say he scared me, I mean he SCARED me. He wasn't Joe. He yelled at me, blamed me, called me names(which he has NEVER EVER done before). He didn't even look or sound like the Joe and I know and love. I even asked him if he needed to go to the hospital and check himself in. Yeah, that went over really well.

He's been gone for four days. He told me initially he would be back on Tuesday. I actually was looking forward to having a break myself. I figured I wouldn't hear from him while he was gone. I was wrong. He called yesterday morning and told me he loved me, missed me, and wished I was there with him. He sounded like the old Joe. The one who makes me laugh, loves me unconditionally, the one with whom I want to spend my life with. He told me he missed me and was coming home early. That he will be home Sunday and wanted to come stay with me for a while.

I think(hope) that his time away made him realize what he truly had. And that no matter how chaotic life gets, I give him stability. At least that's my take on things.

I don't know what the future holds....whether his PTSD will interfere forever, or if his therapy, meds, and my love can make a difference for him.

I do know that I love him, and want him in my life. I think for now, that we need to concentrate on just living, instead of worrying about the D/s aspects. Though maybe I'm looking at it all wrong. Maybe the D/s would help him feel more in control. I don't know. I know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get it right.

Sorry, I know this isn't a very "lifestyle-ish" post....but it is a "life" post. Hope y'all understand.

Got Nuttin' really....

Life is going slow these days.

Joe and I have been spending every weekend together...and they are wonderful. He makes me laugh, smile, and giggle. We have so much fun together. Mostly we spend the weekend in bed!

Of course, I rarely get to see him during the week and that frustrates me. Though hopefully not for long.

Last week he told me he told his daughter that he would be living with his "special girlfriend". I'm assuming that's me. :o)

And this past weekend we talked about seeing a fertility specialist. I have bratty ovaries that don't want to work on their own.

That's the vanilla stuff. Pretty important...but vanilla all the same.

As far as the D/s....well, that seems to be going well. I still ask him a thousand questions, but he patiently answers them. Mostly. On occasion he just gives me the "look". You know the one, "are you really going to question me so I have to spank you, or are you just going to do it??"

Sigh....sorry, just not in a place to write tonight....it's Thursday, haven't seen Joe since Sunday and I'm missing him.

Sigh....

I think a lot about my submission. Joe says that he's always known I am submissive, but I didn't know....how did he?

I think about how much I love him, how we believe we are each other's soulmate. I don't know that I would be submissive for anyone else. This is my first relationship involving this dynamic. Even before, when Joe and I were together before, we had a vanilla relationship. And we've talked about that. We previously met at a time where he had ended a D/s relationship(very dramatically and badly) and he wanted just a "normal" relationship. But he said that his time in the war taught him that he didn't want to live a lie or live by anyone else's rules. He said he would never hide who he was for anyone ever again. So the choices were, live the lifestyle with him, or be without him.

So....did I embrace this dynamic for him or for me? I'm not sure. And does it really matter? I don't know.

He has been in the "lifestyle" for almost 20 years, me? Less than a year. He is so patient with me, taking things slowly, giving me a taste, a sample, of what he wants from me. I know that we get frustrated with each other sometimes....he gets frustrated because I ask a thousand questions about everything. I need to understand in my mind why I'm doing what he wants. I haven't quite grasped the whole concept of "just because". I DO know I want to make him happy, and for the most part, he makes me very happy. I mean, we still struggle like any couple, with trying to figure out the minutiae of our relationship. His PTSD and TBI interferes sometimes and I struggle to be understanding. I think that's normal. I do know that I make more concessions with him than I ever have with anyone else.

I know this post is rambling and jumping all over the place....my mind today is just jumbled, and for that I apologize.

I think about my submission and can only come to the conclusion that I am submissive just for him. I can't imagine being submissive to anyone else. I guess maybe because I want to spend the rest of my life with him and only him.

Sigh....Happy Saturday, folks.

I've discovered that...

• Spanking can actually be very erotic and fun!
• I bruise easily everywhere BUT my ass.
• I get turned on when He slaps my face during sex.
• He is much stronger than I am emotionally.
• He can command me to cum.
• I love when He calls me His "good girl".
• I'm a "little bit" of a masochist.
• I could lie next to Him just touching and rubbing each other forever.
• I'm not as afraid of doing new things as I once was.
• I WANT Him to try new things with me.
• He has my absolute submission.

Yay!

Sigh....sometimes things just go right. Yanno?

Joe comes tomorrow for a whole week of uninterrupted "us" time. He still has school, therapy, and work....but NO other commitments but ME ME ME!

I don't think I've mentioned this before, but he is an amazing musician. One of the best I have ever heard...and I've been in music my whole life. Every note he plays is perfection. He always has something playing in his head. He mixes his own music and he used to own his own recording studio back in the day. When he's here, and he's playing his guitar, I can sit and listen to him for hours. He wants to bring his equipment over and do some music while he is here. I still have to work 8 to 5 so that will give him something to concentrate on when he's not in school and I'm at work. I've been cleaning out the basement so he has a whole room just for him.

I hurt my back last weekend, so it's going slower than I had hoped....the whole cleaning thing. Egads...where does all this junk and crap come from? And of course, I've missed garbage day, so I have bags of shit just waiting to go out. Don't get me wrong...I'm not a complete slob, but there are clothes that I haven't worn in years just sitting down there...why am I hanging on to that crap? And what was I thinking saving moving boxes? With this economy, I'm not going anywhere any time soon. I owe more than what my house is worth now....I'm stuck for a while.

Anyway....I had ordered a leather corset from Alter Ego Erotics...I've heard great things about them and it came in the mail today! It is absolutely gorgeous! I told Joe that it came and of course, he has plans for the weekend. He told me tonight that I am going to wear it tomorrow night with a red thong and a locked collar. And that's it. Hmmm....this will be a new experience. But honestly, every day is a new experience with him.

I wonder if the corset will make my back feel better??

Time flies when you're having fun....

Man....I can't believe that it's been almost four months since my last post. I certainly never intended to be gone so long.

Joe and I have been working through some issues since he's been back from the war. He is in school full time, going to therapy twice a week, going to group therapy once a week, and there is still baby mama drama. All. The. Time. It seems every time we get a weekend alone, she calls with some crisis and off he goes. I swear she does it on purpose. I mean, I absolutely believe his child should come first in his life. I have no qualms about saying that. And meaning it. But the latest drama is "separation anxiety". Yep, for some reason, every weekend that Joe is with me, his kid gets separation anxiety and won't stop crying until Daddy comes to see her.

Oh well.

Anyway, on to the other stuff. I think it's hard to have a D/s relationship when your time is limited and sporadic. I mean, I talk to Joe on the phone every day. I see him several times a week. But with my work schedule, his school/therapy schedule, it seems difficult. Though I think that we are definitely moving in the right direction.

I have found out that Joe REALLY likes spanking. I never would have guessed that he was into spanking...but he is. A lot. I swear, I think he looks for things to get annoyed with, or pretends to get annoyed with, just so he can pull me over his lap and whack my ass. The first time he did that it was so fast, I didn't have time to object(what?!?!?) or anticipate what was going to happen. Even sitting here typing this, I am laughing when I think of my first words to him..."is that all you got?" What the hell was I thinking? Oh man, it clearly wasn't all he had. And he gave me just a taste of what he could do. I will say that I think twice now before opening my mouth.

In May, we were supposed to go camping for a weekend. I found this great place that had Tree House Cabins! I couldn't wait! Until I ended up in the hospital that weekend with a MRSA infection that needed four days of IV antibiotics. I was so pissed when the ER doctor told me that he was admitting me for the weekend. I told him no, I was going camping. He told me, No you're not. I was so bummed. But Joe came and stayed with me. He slept at my house and spent the days in the hospital with me.

Last month, he decided that I was to call him Daddy. Now I know that there are lots of Daddy/Daughter, Daddy/little girl scenes/lifestyles out there...but never thought that he would be into that. And I don't think he is really. after a few weeks, and a few spankings because I couldn't seem to remember that I had to address him that way, I finally just said to him: This is hard for me, it's awkward, like playing a role....why do want me to call you Daddy? His answer? It turns him on. The funny thing is...I have no problem whatsoever calling him Daddy in bed...just everywhere else. Sigh....I'm getting better, but it's still awkward for me.

For the last few weeks, he has been obsessed with doing ecstasy with me. You have to understand how odd this is. He doesn't drink, or do drugs. He will have a non-alcoholic beer every once in a while, but that's it. I think, the idea of a total escape appeals to him because of all the war shit in his head. He talks about his unit buddies coming back and having drinking and drug problems. He's the only one who doesn't, it seems. I know that back in his club days he would roll, but he hasn't done it in many many years.

Well, Thursday night it happened. Can I just say....

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.

Limits? Hard limits you say? What are those? It appears that when riding the E train...I have no limits. But in a good way. If you've never taken this trip, I would highly recommend it. I was nervous at first, since I haven't done anything like that since college...and honestly, there were so many drugs back then I couldn't tell you if I had tried it before or not. I can say I think I would have remembered a trip like that!

It started slow....we sat on the couch, watching t.v. just hanging out. Then, we started to roll. We couldn't get close enough to each other. We would finish each other's sentences, laugh like crazy, touch each other every where. Every touch, would make me moan. Every kiss would make me dripping wet. I remember saying to him that I wanted to remember the feeling of absolute freedom to be as sensual as I could be. He wanted me to remember that too. We were biting and nipping each other on the couch. And every time we tried to get up off the couch to go to the bedroom, we would get distracted by each other. Again and again and again. When we finally found our way to the bedroom, we got naked in a hurry! I couldn't wait to touch his skin all over his body. He kept telling me over and over again he couldn't believe how much he loved me. He told me it hurts sometimes he loves me so much. Oops..almost forgot....before we really started to roll, I was thinking about hard limits and one that I had been thinking about for a few days prior to this was slapping. He told me once that in past D/s relationships, he had been known to slap while having sex. I had real issues with that for personal reasons and he knew that was a hard limit for me. But as much as I trust him, I wanted him to try it. I had been thinking that for days and as we were sitting on the couch, I was thinking about saying something to him about it. Before I could say anything, he turned to me and said, "can I ask you about one of your hard limits?" And I said, "Slapping?" He stopped, looked at me and said, "How did you know?" And my only response was...I don't think it's a hard limit tonight. We both laughed because once again, we were on the same wave length.

I can honestly say I don't think it will be an issue ever again. It was so surreal. And I'm sure that rolling on E had everything to do with it. He did things to me that I was sure I would never allow. And I loved every fucking minute of it. I don't even remember him slipping the LARGE buttplug into my ass, but remember sliding it out so he could fuck me in the ass. I swear the neighbors two streets over could hear us. But I sure as hell didn't care.

We rolled for about twelve hours....all night and into the morning. Fucking and sucking, hugging and loving. We couldn't get enough of each other. And it was truly an amazing event. One that I can't wait to repeat.

I had read things on the web about what it was like to roll. How deep and meaningful life would seem....how spiritual it could be.....and what I read didn't even come close to the experience he and I shared.

I'm so glad I had that experience with Him. I don't think I'm creative enough or at least coherent enough tonight to put into words exactly how much fun we truly had. We connected on more levels than I thought possible. And if I doubted my submissiveness to him before this weekend. I don't anymore.

He is everything I want. And I truly believe that I am everything he wants as well.

Sigh....

I am very content. And VERY much in love.

Celebrations and Disappointments

So, Tuesday night, Joe calls. He tells me that on Wednesday he will be picking me up at exactly 6:15pm and that I am to be wearing a nice dress, a thong, and thigh high hose. He won't tell me why, or where we are going. He likes to build the anticipation that way. He also knows that I will think about it constantly until he walks in and will work myself up into a state. He likes that too.

I'm nervous getting ready. Not a bad nervous, more excited than anything. I shower, shave, take care of my girly bits. I know I have enough time to get ready and will be ready and waiting when he arrives.

So why oh why did he get there 20 minutes early! Just to raise my anxiety about not being ready. And as I'm rushing around trying to put on those damned thigh highs and garter(stupid little clips), he grabs my camera and starts taking pictures. I hate having my picture taken and he knows this. We laugh, he tells me to just put on regular pantyhose since I couldn't get those little clips clipped. He warns me though that after tonight, I probably won't be wearing them ever again. I know without even checking that I'm already wet.

Joe is really great about telling me good things about myself. It took me a long time to trust and believe him. I suppose most women have some self esteem issues about their looks. But I believe that he truly thinks I am beautiful. As I stood there, laughing, trying to pull up my pantyhose graciously(does ANY woman look sexy pulling and yanking up pantyhose??) he tells me how beautiful I look on this night.

We leave, yet I still don't know where we are going. We head out and only then, does he tell me his plans. We are going to my favorite restaurant for dinner, then to a sex toy shop, then to a strip club. And at that moment, all of my anxiety melted away. He asked me why I was smiling and the only thing I could tell him was how much I loved him.

On a side note, one of the things I love most about Joe is how much fun he is. We laugh. And Laugh. A lot. All the time. I mean, we have serious conversations, but everything we do is filled with giggles, and smiles, and belly busting laughing. I love when I can get a true laugh out him. Nothing makes me happier.

Dinner was amazing. He ordered me my favorite drink, my favorite dish, and we had a real grown up date. It felt like my first one. I mean, we got dressed up, went to dinner, and had real conversation. It reminded me of nights I would sit on my folks' bed watching them get dressed up to go out to dinner. It was a wonderful feeling.

While we were sitting there having dinner he asked me why I didn't ask him why we were out. I told him I figured he would tell me when he was ready. He laughed a great belly laugh. He knew I was full of shit! The truth is, I didn't give a shit. I was just happy we were out. He knew that. It was a celebration. Of what, I asked? He told me that he officially had taken his name off the volunteer list to go to Afghanistan. He's home for three years. I looked down at the table, and thought I was going to cry. Such a feeling of relief washed over me. I didn't realize how scared I was that he was actually going to go and that he wouldn't make it back this time. Two tours in Iraq back to back. He needs a break. He's a super soldier, but even they need time to heal. He told me not to cry. And I didn't.

The day that he practiced the restraints on me, he teased me that he was going to leave me tied up while he went to get a triple espresso. We ended our dinner with triple espressos. He does have a sense of humor!

We went to the sex toy store and he bought a new gag thingy. Some scary looking thing called a double fish hook. And a sexy nightie. He loves the fact that those places make me a bit uncomfortable. So he would stand behind me and run his hand over my ass...or stand beside me and pinch my nipples right in front of the security camera. My embarrassment made him laugh. And ironically, me too after a while. Everything seems OK and even better when we are together.

We went to the strip club. A sleazy little joint where we sat in a back booth. He was so sweet, and generous. Tipping girls left and right. Telling me to go tip that girl, drink that drink. I never for a moment thought to disobey or doubt him. He got us a couple's lapdance. It was erotic. He was hard. When we sat back down, he reached behind me and ripped the back of my pantyhose. No one could see....and he pulled my dress up to my ass and slid his hand down into my thong. He slid his finger inside my pussy and I could hear him chuckle. He whispered in my ear, "you are so wet". I whispered back, "it's all you". Sliding his finger in and out of me for only a moment had me writhing and so close to coming. He finally had to stop because I was so turned on I couldn't sit still. He said we were going to get kicked out if I couldn't behave. Even now, sitting here, I laugh at the memory. We were just having that much fun!

More drinks, more lap dances....he got totally hard during the second lap dance when the dancer kissed me. We kissed and licked and my hand was in his lap, rubbing his hard cock. He was so turned on watching me kiss her. And he was so sweet, making sure I knew it wasn't the dancer that was turning him on. I was so turned on, knowing that he was enjoying what was happening around him.

Then it was time to leave. I was pretty drunk, but not sloppy, not ignorant, not rude. We walked to the exit and I tried to go out the wrong door. The door guy pointed it out to me and Joe gently grabbed my arm to steer me to the right door. I was laughing because I was embarrassed at making the mistake and in my head, I turned around and playfully slapped Joe's cheek. It my head it was funny, like jokingly blaming him for letting me pick the wrong door.

When we got outside Joe told me to get in the car. And I realized something wasn't right. When I got in the car he started yelling at me for hitting him and humiliating him in front of everyone in the club. I was shocked. And I tried to explain but he wouldn't listen. And then I got mad. And I yelled back. And we fought the entire way home. I was so angry with him. I was so mad that he wouldn't listen to me. I tried over and over again to apologize, but he didn't seem to care. When we got home, he told me he was leaving. I told him to go. And then slammed the door after him. He called me from the road and yelled some more. Even now, I don't remember everything because of all I had to drink. But he hung up on me and I turned my phone off. Ten minutes later I turned my phone back on....I had time to think. I was in the wrong. I needed to make it right. There were two messages from him. He tried to call so that he could come back and we could talk. But now, he was going to go home. I went to bed feeling like shit. I cried myself to sleep. I was so angry at myself at that point. Without even realizing it, I had ruined what had been an amazing night.

I know this is rambling, and I'm leaving parts out...some intentionally, some that are still foggy.

We talked the next morning. And I apologized and he forgave me. But we are still on eggshells right now. He told me he left that night because every fiber of his being was screaming to hurt me. And he didn't want to do that. I have to remember that for the past two years his method of dealing with conflict was to shoot and kill or be killed. He explained to me that he had felt disrespected and even if I was playing, he didn't take it that way. For days now I wish I had the power to turn back time. To stop things before we walked out that door.

Some little part of my mind tells me that he overreacted. But another part of my brain tells me that as a Dom, it was a grievous error on my part. And I didn't know it. But boy...do I know it now. I still feel horrible for hurting him. God, I feel like I can't ever get it right. And that makes me angry. For a myriad of reasons. Why should I feel like a fuck up when I don't know the rules? Isn't that his place to explain them to me? Or am I just trying to sabotage our relationship??

Sigh....I don't know. I just know that I feel like I failed him. And that hurts.