Tragedy

My phone rang again at 3am for the second time. Upon answering it I heard the frantic voice of my sister yelling "Mom is dead! Mom died! You need to come home." At first I was silent and then the yelling began. I made her repeat it over and over to me. I wanted to shake her shoulders and force her to stop lying to me.


Mom? Not Dad. Dead?

I hung up the phone. Every part of me was shaking. I could barely move. I dialed the one person I knew who was awake at that hour who would drive me 50 miles to the country. I couldn't say the words because then it would be true. He said he'd be there immediately.

I started packing a bag. I was going through my laundry and couldn't figure out what I needed. I was standing in the middle of a pile of clothes on the floor clutching a dirty shirt, half naked I collapsed with my head pressed to the floor on my knees and sobbed uncontrollably until I heard the knock on the door.

She had a massive heart attack unexpectedly. It was either from the stress of dad or from her recent bronchitis, or both. No one will ever know.

My whole world has changed. I miss my mother more than words can express. Oddly I feel strong. I break down from time to time and I have this deeply calm sadness within. My world is paused right now.

I fear entering the real world again. Wondering what sort of challenges the neglect of this past week may have set me up for.

One thought that keeps popping up in my head is that my little brother was the only one home with my father and had to do chest compressions for 15min before help arrived. She was gone before then and there was no way to help, but I can see the torment of that moment playing over and over in his head. I see him retreating inside. He's so young. I hate that he had to have that memory and has to somehow figure out how to processes what happened on his own.

I find myself feeling the sadness of everyone and I haven't had a chance to feel my own.

Dad is doing so much worse since then and he's aged physically by 20 years. All my siblings know that we will soon be our only family. I've been an adult for quite a while now, but now I'm on my own.

It was my mother’s final gift. Her death allowed us to step up and come together and it made my father feel ready to pass.

So much sadness seems like it would be too much to bear. But, somehow I'll make it through this

Goals

I just had a really good conversation with a friend of mine who is relatively adept maintaining unbiased opinions about where I am and what's happening in my life. I realized that having open communication with everyone in your life is essential for maintaining sanity.

When I left his company and went back out into the world I quickly incorporated it into every avenue of my life.

I established a relationship with a personal banker at my bank and I asked for help. I've always been terrible with the concept of banks and numbers printed out in list format. He worked with me on how to manage my finances better, something I realized I wanted more then to have fees dismissed. I wanted to figure out how to not get into the situations I've been getting into financially.

Then I spoke with a few people who have been pending on my list of frustrations and worries. We talked candidly and worked things out.

A new friend of mine told me that he found it fascinating how I throw myself into challenges, always pushing for improvement; self or otherwise. And that's honestly how I want to live my life. I've found that finding the solution to problems isn't the goal but the strength and knowledge gained in finding the solution is. Dancing around issues causes the crazy to happen internally. I absolutely love talking bluntly and to the point. When interactions are transparent I feel calmer inside.

This morning I awoke to a mind of unrest. I felt weighed down by the troubles in my life to such a degree, that I wanted to hide in my bed for long enough of a time that the things might disappear. I've learned that ignoring problems only makes them compound until you're basically, please excuse the language, fucked.

I'm a strong person. I know this. I've worked hard to be this way.

The Decline

I see and interact with death every day. I see the slow decline of health and I watch the strong become non responsive and weak.

He's the strongest most stubborn person I've ever known, and now I'm forced to watch as he wastes away. I feel like I'm not saying anything new. That I'm not the only one to have ever gone through something like this. It's so present in my life right now though.

His skin looks translucent. His white hair is a brilliant shade of wall primer. I can't look away from the slight shaking of his hands. His sentences trail off and his points are never fully made. All I can do is absorb everything. I'm unable to make judgments. I feel numb, still and sad as my wide eyes take it all in as if in a perpetual state of shock.

His shoulders are hunched. He’s softened around the edges and he moves so incredibly slowly. This was the man who used to lift couches with ease and was the only one who managed to pull my drug induced enraged and violent older brother off my mother years ago.

As I sit here and type this he calmly lays on the couch making a strange wheezing/moaning sound I'm not sure he realizes he's making. I know he's in pain. But he refuses to admit it or tell anyone. He reminds me of a stoic golden retriever still trying to wag its tail as it painfully limps up the stairs.

Escape

Leaving work early with the kindness of my co-workers; I drove, distraught, to the Emergency room. My father had been coughing up blood for several weeks. He hadn't mentioned it until the volume was significant. The oncologist insisted that he go.

When I arrived, I sat with my parents and struggled maintaining my strength. I quietly listened as the conversation stayed light and I watched as the fear shimmered like disturbed puddles of water  over my fathers face. When my mother thought no one was looking I saw the depths of sadness fighting to break free flash in her eyes. She told me that she doesn't cry for fear of the damn breaking.

Five hours later I was exhasted. We had no answers but they released him, only to return for chemo the following day. As I was driving to my friends' house for a drink, I had a lit cigarette between my fingers. I'd only taken one drag when the sobbing started. My heart. It felt like it was going to burst. I couldn't stop the hurting and the weird animal sounds escaping my contorted mouth only made it more severe. The cigarette burned to the filter without another drag.

I was quiet when I arrived at the house. Then we decided to go work out.

When I arrived at the foreign gym I was drawn to the elliptical like it was a life line.   I dropped my jacket on the floor and clamored on. The awkwardness of my feet slipping, my hands searching for a comfortable place and the sporadic beating of my heart is always frustrating. My mind was  a swirling vortex like the tornado in the Wizard of Oz. 

Slowly I fell into a rhythm .  I felt my body come alive. The back of my mind observed each muscle group sliding and straining. The rest of my mind was still. I felt the beads of sweat tickle as they glided down my skin. I felt my lungs burn in that pleasant way. The half hour passed so quickly I went for more. An hour later my legs felt like jello. I thought I felt the floor shifting beneath my feet.

I felt better.

Doctors and Subs

There's a doctor in the clinic that everyone fears and avoids. Everyone that is, save me.

She is quick to anger, has very particular ways of doing things, requires complete control and becomes overwhelmed easily. She hesitates to trust any of the techs and she can cut a person to the quick with a single word.

When she first started working at our clinic I asked her why she had chosen the method she had on a certain case. She was instantly angry and ordered me to do as she asked. I almost started crying. Almost.

Later I explained that I was simply trying to learn from her and wasn't questioning her competence. She has many years of experience in the field. With that comes many archaic ways of doings things. However, there is often and ebb and flow to the field where the old is tossed out and later found to be the correct way to do something.

She terrifies me. I hesitate to do anything before she tells me too and I have to handle her with kid gloves when asking anything.

Yet, I'm fascinated by her and feel drawn in. I'm compelled to figure her out. Maybe it's the challenge. Honestly, I'm not sure what my motivation is.

Today she actually wanted me to accompany her in surgery. We were in there all day. She started explaining things to me. We chatted about personal stuff. She told me about how much the field has changed. She was one of 17 women in a class of 80. She even cracked a joke or two!

I love trying to predict what she'll need next. I am starting to figure out her moods and what her body language means.

I'm fairly certain she assumed I was an imbecile early on. She attempted to 'tell' me how to adjust my hold on an animal once. Obviously it didn't work out well. Over time I've explained to her that if she tries telling me something new, it goes right out the window, but if she shows me something I remember it forever. I must have, at one point, shown my intelligence to her somehow. I've noticed a change in how she interacts with me.

Later that day she showed me a model of a patella and a reference book. I realized she was teaching and explaining to me the intricacies of one of the procedures she had done earlier. She was taking an extra step.

In a way, this helps fill my submissive needs. I'm helping out, I have rules and I have to be empathetic to her moods. She still scares me, and I still don't prefer her as a person, but I am enjoying the work dynamic.

My Brain

Verbal communication drives me to the brink of crazy... written communication borders on being committed.

When I was a child learning how to tell time, I was given a word problem.

Jane gets home from school everyday, how long does it take her to eat an apple? 15min 30min or 2 hours?

My answer?

4 o'clock.

Every time I tell this story people burst out laughing. And then I see the look of confusion. At that point I explain. I got home at 3:45 every evening from school. If it took me 15min to eat the apple I would be done by 4 o'clock.

The biggest challenge for me has been learning how to communicate verbally with people. At times I feel like the dumb kid in class who's just smart enough to know it. With massive IQ testing, my teachers attempted to figure out what level of retarded to put me into. Turned out my genius was unchartable. I was HIGHLY visual spacial.

Every problem I've run into stems from this difference. It's a certain feeling I get and I know in those moments that I'm missing some important detail. When it comes to me, I have an "Aha" moment and things fall into place after that. 

What people say, is rarely what they are actually thinking. As I've developed, I learned how to read people in a very empathic way. I just 'know' what's going on when I watch. I can't explain it. I only know that I get an overall snap shot of them and all the many layers. And, that is how I connect.

My friends and family are constantly confused by my conclusions about things. But they've learned to ride the wave and wait for the explanation. And because I have no idea how to communicate the way others do, I over do it.

Einstein was once walking down a path and came acrossed a friend. They chatted for a while about theory and soon said their goodbyes for the day. Einstein stopped his friend and asked "When you saw my walking, was I walking towards my house or away from it?" His friend told him he was walking away, to which he responded, "Oh good, I've eaten lunch then".

I understand that oh so well.

Blah Blah Blah

A few days ago I was completely wrapped up in internal reflection. I'd come to the surprising realization that a few things I though were the fault of others were in fact issues that stemmed from myself.

The general whirling of my mind involved; mulling over details, reflecting on past events and trying to conceptualize the whole of my self and those I relate to on a personal level.

It seems I have... dun dun duhhn! Trust issues. Figurative slap on the forehead.

What blows my mind is that I thought I had dealt with these issues long ago. But it seems that my mind has decided that I have to be completely sure of it. It's interesting that when I decide on something there's always an event that will challenge my new found resolutions.

It certainly doesn't help that my past is somewhat traumatic. I've never completely shared the details of what happened to me to anyone. But, who I am is not the result of what someone else chose to do. Honestly, I sometimes feel that I hold too much to heart those events. On a comparative level they really aren't that terrible. It certainly could have been much worse.

So, I sought the support of my spiritual community. I sat in silence and I put my inner critic aside for a while. Quietly counting breath, feeling my body solidly planted on the floor and experiencing the amazing moment to moment with others; I found that the stress and internal warfare dissipated slightly.

As always, I figured out the problem, found some internal resolution, and let it go. I chose to be gentle with myself.

Quiet

I keep having dreams about Gwen. For the past seven days she's entered my dreams at odd points. My first thought is that she has passed, why is she back? And then I realize that she is ill again. She keeps coming to me to die. Over and over.

I was at my families and it was interesting to step back and watch them interact. There was great debate about everything imaginable and I had a moment of clarity when I realized that this was a sort of transition in focus with my father's worsening. I didn't see before that they are suffering just as much as I am. Some part of me thought they had it more together than I did.

I had a quiet moment with my mother and we talked about my recent struggles with living alone. I see oddities in myself that are socially trying. I can feel the paranoia taking over at times. And the loneliness is definitely present.

My mother listened to my description of the dreams I've been having. She posed the question that perhaps my dreams are not actually of Gwen. We had a very candid conversation. It was nice just being honest and open.

When my sister lost her husband suddenly, she found herself on the psych ward in the hospital. A week later I asked her about the experience and surprisingly she said it was the most liberating moment of her life. Everyone there was already expected to be 'crazy' and she said that she found who she was in that place with the freedom to say and do as she wished.

My past relationship had strong emphasis on open and honest communication. I saw that it benefited in a way that allowed me to stop pondering the hidden meanings behind what was said.

I don't know what all of this means but I feel like it's connected somehow.

An even more difficult year

I just got this email from my mother...

Well,

I was going to call each of you individually... but frankly I can't stand to cry that much.  So... I'm sending an email so you'll all know what's happening with your Dad.

All of his tumors are growing, some have quadrupled in size and there are new tumors too.  So, he's definitely off the study.  Which is a good thing because it caused bad sores in his mouth, making it difficult for him to eat.  And it also made him sleep all the time.  He's lost over 20 pounds over the last few weeks.  So, they'll be moving on to the next level of chemo.

They use each round of chemo until it's not effective any more and the tumors start growing again.  And there are only about 6 or 7 different kinds that are used to fight his kind of cancer.  Dr. *  said that we are entering the 4th round of chemo and with that comes certain things.

Each level of chemo is stronger and the side effects are worse.  He's going to start the next round on Tuesday and only has to travel once a week, which is nice.  With this chemo he has to take steroids because there is a high incidence of allergic reaction.  The drug attacks the cancer, but also attacks the nervous system and most people will have painful tingling in their fingers and toes.  The effectiveness of this drug is about 8 weeks.  At that point, the tumors will start growing again and they'll have to move to the next level.  

Each level of chemo becomes less and less effective and lasts for a shorter time.  He will be on chemo forever at this point, unless he decides he needs a break.  Dr. * told him that at some point he might want to stop chemo all together.  That it's not giving up, it's just saying I'm tired and I need a break.  I'm glad she said that.  Because we make such a big deal about "never give up, never surrender" at chess club and I didn't want him to think it also applied to this... refusing to play the game is a perfectly valid thing to do too.

Dr. * talked to us about hospice care.  Not right now.  But, it is coming.  She said you can always hope that one of these drugs will react favorably with the cancer and he'll get significantly better.  But the chances of that are very low.  She said that we'll start with hospice when your father gets too tired to travel to the city, or the side effects are just too uncomfortable for a drive.

Okay, so that's everything I know right now.  

I don't think your Dad wants to talk about the cancer.  It makes him feel sad.  So, just come and spend time with him.  Play cribbage.  Watch TV.  If he wants to talk about things, he will.  We have to be strong for him and for each other.  

Love,

Mom

Too much

I feel so beat down right now...I just don't know what to do with my life. It feels as though everything has reached a head all at once and the stress of it all is so overwhelming.

I moved to this place for my first love, my dog Gwen.

She was feeling so poorly towards the end. Three days ago she wasn't able to walk. She handn't eaten in two days and she kept getting so pale. I carried her to the clinic and we started the gauntlet of test. Xrays, blood work, ultrasound, biopsies, specialists, IV fluids etc. She was anemic and her PCV kept dropping out of control. Her pancreas had a necrotic nodule, her liver was riddled with bumps her lungs were filling with an opportunistic upper respiratory disease. No one had answers and she was getting worse by the second. The medications were sky rocketing, I couldn't sleep from worry. She was hooked up to so many things and transporting her back and forth...sigh.

My whole world revolves around her and has for years now. She was so devoted to me so loyal. My very best friend. A surrogate child.  

The doctors thought she had Immune mediated hemolitic anemia. Her immune system was killing her. Yesterday she had an accident in the house and it was full of blood I was fretting over that when she stumbled looked at me in fear and confusion and collapsed. I threw her in the car, rushed to the clinic. Her liver had failed her kidneys were failing, she was breathing so hard. They wanted to do a blood transfusion. Then the oncologist said she had some sort of infiltrative sarcoma, untreatable cancer, that was hitting every system.

It's so much like my fathers situation.

She was so out of it and I was sobbing. My heart. I felt like I was dying. At some point Gwen and I had an intense moment. We were very in tune with each other. I told her it was okay to let go. A few moments later she started to crash. We barely had enough time to euthanize her before the died. She was so scared. In so much pain. And she was gone from my life forever.

When I got home the carbon monoxide alarm was going off. I'd had a leak of some sort. My fish and plants were all dead and I had no where to go. All I wanted was a shower. The bank called. I'm more than poor at this moment. Then the poly thing came up. I have to talk to my partner's partner. I feel so much love for him, I'm working on it. I feel so much empathy for everyone else involved it effects my physiologically. Everyone is confused about things with eachother. Worried about motivations and feelings. I stress over so much of it that I can't control.

I feel like I'm walking in some sort of cloud. As if, should I take a second to look at everything, my whole world will disintegrate.  I have understanding that things always happen at the same time. I remember someone telling me once that 'god' gives you as much as you can handle plus a little bit more. But honestly this is too much. I'm at my base fight or flight.

But I'm staying still.

One thing at a time. Today I'll get dressed, go to work. Later I'll talk to the partner. Tomorrow I'll get a loan somewhere. Taking things in the moment is all I can do and all I have control over. I need a rest. I just want to find a protective nest where I don't have to deal with anything right now, hoping that things will work out on their own. That is just a fantasy though.

This is real life.

Punishment

This evening... Well, let me explain.

I hung out with a sub friend of mine playing games with an huge group of friends. For some time the two of us have wanted to be intimate with eachother and there were several lesbians at the game night. My friend and I became very excited at the prospect of exploring eachother and left quite early from the fun.

Her husband and Dom was at home and we were hoping to create an interesting scene. I've played with them before and feel quite comfortable with the two of them, even more so now that we understand and know eachother better.

When we arrived home He was in quite the mood. So, she and I started exploring on our own. Now, this is something that has been discussed with the two of them previously.

 We both were new to homosexual exploration and giggled like sisters. Neither of us knew what to do and neither of us took a dominant role to move things forward. We took it to the bedroom and just touched eachother. She was amazingly soft, curvy and gentle. She recomended bringing out the strap on.

She helped me figure out the straps and do dads. I had no idea how difficult men have it. Granted I couldn't feel my 'cock'. But she seemed to be enjoying it. We switched and I have to say that was quite pleasant. The great thing about adding the toy was that it helped establish loose roles. She had me on my stomach and was in me from behind when he came in.

I could tell by her body language that things weren't okay. He was angry that we hadn't asked permission. He was quite right. We defiantly overstepped our bounds. I'd had passing warning thoughts about what we were doing. I had no idea he would feel so strongly about it. I felt like a child caught stealing cookies.  He grilled my friend and then took out the cane. I shuddered instantly.

With the person I play with regularly we've established the cane for punishment only. I've always been terrified of the object and felt silly for associating so much fear with it. Through conversation with him we linked the cane to specific moments in my childhood. The sound of the swooshing sends bolts of panic through me and I want desperately to run away. It brings me back to those feelings of helplessness and terror.

He had her on the edge of the bed and made me count each thwack. I was crying as I watched her receive the punishment. Every swing made me jump like it was happening to me too. I was curled up on the opposite corner of the bed clutching a pillow. At one point I stopped counting, panicked and quickly recounted the sounds I'd heard.

After 30 strikes he told me to get on the edge of the bed. There was a passing thought of just running away. But I couldn't even consider it, I knew I deserved it. My friend is certainly more of a masochist than I. I was terrified that I would receive the same treatment as it was almost too much for her.

15 strikes later with me sobbing on the bed he told us to continue and left the room closing the door behind him. She and I held one another crying and apologizing to eachother.

It's not exactaly how I hoped the evening would go. Still, on some level it was compelling. To be brought to that state is always an interesting journey. I don't enjoy the process of getting there, and the residual feelings of guilt and unworthiness linger for a while.

It seems that my friend and I are constantly getting into trouble. I worry that he won't want me around anymore.

I know I can be a better sub.

Fetlife's "Sit on Santa's Lap"

Only two days left to enter for awesomeness. If you didn't get what you really wanted Kinky related enter ASAP. I entered for Boss's Rope, a Corset and an I-Lusting Cordless Vibrator. So, just don't pick those things and we can still be friends.

Where to go

Good luck!

Le Sigh

Casually getting hot and heavy with and acquanitence last night was the best way to end the year I think.

It won't happen again. At least not in that way. I tried to convey that this was just an experiment, that I was wanting to explore with him but I didn't really want anything else. I gave him the opportunity to stop. We proceeded and then he talked about relationships. Concidering what he was wanting I felt like an idiot for not talking more ahead of time. 

Good things: It was fun, I liked seeing how another person is in an intimate situation, I tried a few new things, I enjoyed suprising him with my eagerness and inabition, it felt damn good, he is very attractive in a very different way than I'm used to, he was quite passionate, I'm glad I didn't actually have intercourse with him, he gained enough confidence from the encounter with me to approach a young lady talk to her and then take her to his room later.

Bad things: I felt dirty after (and not in a good way), I struggled with his thoughts and behavior towards me, it was difficult watching him struggle with jealousy and confusion, he was a terrible kisser, when we were talking after I was not impressed with his character, it's certainly not something I want to repeat, I missed 'him' while it was happening and couldn't help comparing.

All in all an interesting adventure. In the future more conversation is defiantly needed, I would prefer at least wanting a relationship of some type before being intimate. I still need to process what actually happened and how I feel about it.

Given the chance to go back and re-decide, I would most likely have said 'no'.