Tuesday, October 26, 2010


Have you ever seen a license plate that says something like BOBS WIF or JRS GIRL ?  How about internet screen names along the lines of "So 'n' So's Honey/Wife/Girlfriend....?  It always irritates the crap out of me when I see something like that.  That a woman could be so wrapped up in her man, she's lost her own identity.  Even if it is a simple thing as a plate or a S.N., she has still reduced herself to property.  I mean, it's great that you love someone so much, but did you lose yourself along the way?  It always reminds me of the Dom/Sub relationship.

And then yesterday I realized, as much as I never wanted to be, I am no different.  I have become the Submissive without even knowing it  Or giving consent!

My face hurts from the acne caused be stress. 

My mouth is sore from chewing my cheek and biting my lip in constant worry.

I don't have laugh lines.  I have frown lines.  And my jaw hurts from clenching my teeth in my sleep.

My stomach is torn up again, and yes, I have started the Prilosec again.

My body does suffer physical pain at the hands of my Dom.  Only he never soothes me when it's over.  He is blissfully unaware.

The only good that has come out of this is the weight I have lost.  40 lbs fell off me so fast, that my stomach has excess skin.  Not much, but I notice it.

These days I am feeling so trapped I might as well be chained to a wall in the basement.  I'm already defeated.

Friday, October 8, 2010


There's no need to argue anymore.
I gave all I could, but it left me so sore.
And the thing that makes me mad,
Is the one thing that I had...

No Need to Argue -Cranberries.

I've been in a very "Cranberries" mood lately.

I'm angry.  So much so that I could commit homicide. 

I'm mostly angry with myself though.  That I could turn into this person.  The 24 year old me would kick my ass if she could see me today.

I NEVER wanted to be a housewife or mother.  There, I said that shit!  I stand at the kitchen sink and cry when no one is looking.  I wash dishes and long to be bent over a body instead, tattoo machine in hand, creating and soothing someones pain.

A few months ago, dear husband and I got into an argument, of no importance what-so-ever.  Except that it was.  He became so furious that he wouldn't let me leave.  I tried.  I was just going to go to work, and since he was so upset, I decided to take the girls to the sitter.  He wouldn't let us leave.

The screaming lead to spitting all over my face in his rage.  His uncontrollable temper found me in my car, with my children freaking out in the back seat, as he held the door so I couldn't close it.  His fury to get the keys away from me, jerked me out towards the door and bashing my head on the frame of the car.  His need to control everything ended up with the spare key broken in the ignition, and a slice on my finger.  His blindness terrorized my oldest child, when he yanked the phone out of her hand and smashed it on the ground when she tried to call grandma.

But alas I am not angry with him.

I am furious with myself.  When the police showed up and asked me if he had hurt me I replied, "Well I hit my head on the door frame of the car when he yanked the keys out of my hand.  But he didn't do it on purpose."

I wonder when this became okay?  That I would unwittingly defend his actions?  Who the fuck is this person inhabiting my skin?
And now everyday I wonder what happened to the girl who would have elbowed him in the throat and cut his balls off.

For the record, I told him I wanted a divorce.  I told him to get out of my house.  He won't leave, and neither will I.  This is my children's home.  They go to school here, and have friends here.  They should not suffer because he is a stubborn ass.

So for now I stand at the kitchen sink and cry.

Sunday, October 3, 2010


Holdin' on
That's what I do
Since I met you.

And it won't be long
Would you notice
If I left you?

Cranberries-Daffodils Lament