Ordered to Blog

Master ordered me to blog for the first time in a long while. i had lots of issues and thoughts and feelings popping up today and they definitely affected my mood and attitude and behavior. Master hasn't punished me in a long time. He's really trying not to have to and i'm really trying not to push Him into doing so. Today was close. i argued. i didn't address Him respectfully. i was aloof.

i don't know where to start, i guess because it's been so long since i last blogged. i guess rl is the place to begin. Nothing has changed exactly. The boys continue to rage daily with verbal aggression and violence if not physical. They were away in Florida all week though and it gave me a new perspective on things. When they were leaving, they made a point of saying sappy goodbyes to me. Kisses and hugs and "i love you"s and the works. When they left i was actually a little sad. i missed them immediately. But i also realized that it wasn't them that i missed. It was that tiny glimpse of who they had the potential to be but seldom were, the glimpse they graced me with just before they left. Within twenty-four hours of returning home, their best behavior had already given way to outbursts and i was again relegated to isolating in my room and avoiding them.

i guess the whole thing just made me realize more than i had that we will miss each other. It is usually so hostile here that i forget there is a part of me that loves them. Leaving them will hurt. i had lost sight of that. And i had lost sight of the fact that they love me and i am about to hurt them greatly. i think i'd come to believe they wouldn't care about my leaving but i realize that they will. They brought me back gifts from Florida. They weren't carelessly chosen airport junk but items that the boys had clearly put thought into selecting especially for me. i feel guilty. There's no way around that. i don't question my decision to leave but i do feel like crap for making it.

i had a very vivid and very scary nightmare while napping this afternoon. i don't recall all the details of it right down to the dialogue as i often do with my dreams. i know what happened in it more than i actually recall it happening, with the exception of some snippets of visual memory. The boys were acting out in it and j and i called the police. When the police came, they wouldn't help us. They just blamed us for everything that was going wrong with the boys. i'm not sure how one thing led to another in the dream but i was high up in a tower of a building and wanted to kill myself. i wanted to jump and people were trying to stop me, to convince me and to trick me so i wouldn't jump. i don't recall what happened but i think i must have died because i woke up absolutely petrified and disoriented. i walked around the house trying to convince myself i was really there and checking clocks and media to see what time it was and even what day. It was a while before i really felt as if i had fully shaken off the dream and was awake and okay.

It's easy enough to know where that dream came from. j and i, but mostly i, have been blamed by police and hospitals and schools and just about everyone over the years. i blame myself too. i know i'm totally inadequate as a mother and, at times, have been worse than useless. i've been a catalyst for problems. i've mistreated the boys. i was totally unequipped for parenting, let alone parenting these two boys. i didn't foresee it. No one did. Even my shrink was all for the adoption at the time. But, over the years, i added to their trauma rather than helping them heal and, in the very depths of depression hell, i even plotted heinous things. It was years ago but it terrifies me still. i'm not just leaving because i can't do good by them. i'm leaving because, when i plummet to rock bottom, i'm capable of harming them. i can't relive those days and hope we all somehow manage to get through them again. What if we don't next time? Knowing i'm leaving makes living here bearable, not good much of the time, but tolerable.

The other component of my home life is j. i was sort of sad when he left also, but not as much as with the boys. he was home for an extra day after they had gone to Florida and he and i didn't interact any more than we do when they are home. Then he returned and was home about two days before they got home since their flight was cancelled by the inclement weather. he and i were at each other's throats almost from the second he arrived home. he always looks sad and hurt when he sees i'm not interested in his company and i hate seeing him that way. i am very careful not to lead him on though. i've slept in my office for the past month. No sex. Minimal interaction. i really feel very little for him at this point though.

we were so in love once. we were the perfect couple. Parenting consumed all of that and just left that love in its wake, destroyed. At least that's what it feels like from my point of view. Maybe there was a time we could have saved things but we are years past that time now. There's a lot of good in him and i pray that he finds someone to love him as he deserves, as i can't. The fact is i'm leaving a man who treats me like gold, is entirely faithful, is a devoted parent, has held down a full-time job for years, does housework, and many other qualities that the single female friends i have would kill for. But i can't get along with him and don't feel very much for him and see our nightmarish history when i look at him. And he and i are wholly incapable of parenting together.

All of that has been on my mind, awake and asleep. Then Master started talking today about some bondage situations that were starting to freak me out. The thing is, i really didn't even realize that they were getting to me. i think i was still stunned from the nightmare at that time. Had i told Him i was finding them upsetting, we would have talked about it and He would have reassured me about what concerned me. i didn't tell Him because i didn't know myself.

The subject moved on to physical punishment and then segued into physical hurt i inflict upon myself. i haven't cut in a long time, maybe last spring. But i pick at things like fingernails and scratches to the point of making them bleed... a LOT... constantly. i'm not even conscious of it half the time. It's second nature to me to be picking and to have my trash filled with bloody tissues. Master said i have to stop. This nearly put me over the edge because i don't think i can and the idea of it scares me. It's disgusting and there are times i've been in absolute agony and even barely able to walk from what i've done, though not recently. Still, the idea of stopping is almost more than i can handle. Cutting myself was different because it was only a now-and-then thing. This is all day, every day. Yikes!

Master said it's self-destructive and it is. i know that. But so is overeating, not getting enough sleep, consuming too much caffeine, going out in the sun, driving too fast, and just about everything that everyone does every day. Everything we inhale and ingest and do is a danger in some way. Master was not about to tolerate continued arguing so i stopped. Stopping has been easy of late but it wasn't today. i really had to force myself. i've refrained from arguing recently because i've wanted to please Master. Today i refrained because i wanted to avoid punishment. There's a real difference in how that feels.

i guess i've said enough for now although i'm already thinking ahead to another blog entry i probably need to get down in black and white. No brilliant ending ending this time.