Our Domestic Discipline Lifestyle

Archive for August, 2011

A New Day A New Start and a Spanking

This thing we do happened to me this afternoon. Over his knees butt shinning and completely submitting to his will. I did not get spanked because I had done anything to deserve it. I got spanked because I asked for it literally. I am trying very hard to work on my recovery. I am trying to put to rest the demons that haunt me.

The craziness has been affecting everything in my life. The ghosts and demons of my past filtering in at inopportune moments and taking my mind away I have been doomed to sit in silence and fight them alone. TTWD when he takes control and I submit to him, be it the sheer dress he loves, BDSM or a spanking, I am assured of his love for me, his passion for me and his willingness.

My husband is willing to experiment and help me conquer my illness. It does not matter if it is my mental health or my physical health he is here to help. This is a love affair where I know I would lay my life down for him he also would give his life for mine. We are a team. A team that is inseparable.

As I try and take baby steps to control my mind. As I move forward to write at the caliber I am truly capable of. As I work to mend the hearts I have broken and the worry I have caused in my family. My husband will be beside me. We may be a Domestic Discipline house hold, he may be the head of household and the leader of our small family, but he is also my teammate as any captain or leader should be. We all have jobs.

I know that no matter what I do or how much I struggle to regain my spirit, my mind, my life. My husband is beside me holding my hand, supporting me when I fall, and spanking my bottom when I deserve it and when I ask him to.

Change in me by way of a friends death.

It is hot. Not the sexual energy type of hot. I am talking about the weather type hot. I received bad news yesterday. A friend of mine went to sleep Friday and never woke up Saturday morning. She was 45, my age, just gone in a blink. As you know I am a passionate person. My emotions run wild and my mind sometimes has trouble dealing with reality. This event in my life though has brought a semblance of sobriety.

I cried and I threw a bit of a fit when I heard. My emotions began to move up and down and all around. Then something snapped inside me. I thought about my friends life and I thought about her death. Jen, my friend, had just finished college and was beginning a job as a registered nurse. She was beginning a fresh start.

She was beautiful, healthy, loving, happy and smart. She was alone when she died. She was single with no children and she died alone in the night. Now that makes me wonder if she had not been alone would she be alive. I don’t mean to imply that she died of loneliness I am just saying if she had been sleeping with someone could her death have been averted. Could there have been a successful rescue of my fiend.

Don has saved me a couple of times from the grim reaper. He jokes how many times he has saved me. Both times have not been acts by my own hand. Both times have be medical emergencies that could happen to anyone and had nothing to do with my mental illness.

I am also thinking about the good my friend had to offer the world. How her life had meaning and should not have ended. There was still work for her to do as I see it. She could make anyone smile and laugh.

I spend a lot of time miserable. The stories I write are about women overcoming something. Always a hurdle or a cross to bare that is what I know. That is what my life has been. Therefore that is what I write about. My mind plays tricks on me while Jens mind was taking her to help others. She was happy I am miserable. She had an understanding with the world and I see ghosts and spirits menacing me.

I am confused with this loss. I don’t understand it. I want to be better and I am trying to be happier. Ignoring the fiends that haunt my mind, I will continue to write. The difference this death has caused me though is I am setting a goal to post positive happier things and live a happier life.

The Reasons for The Post Ugliness

I feel I should explain my earlier post. I am an eclectic soul. My talents vary and I fight for control sometimes of all the things that make me who I am. There have been times that the end of this journey to self control would be death. My moods roll about like a crap shoot at times. The story, “The Ugliness” is an illustration of how I feel about my mind.

Triggers are the spirit that controls my being. My triggers can lead to any one of the parts of me that exist within. Sometimes those triggers can be manifested in a dream, by a word or phrase, or by a random feeling. My DH and I live with me flopping around and he never knows whom he will wake to on any given morning.

That is why routine is so important in my life. Routine keeps me moving forward. I know exactly what to do next and the feelings or that ugly spirit that controls me looses control because I have duties. I have responsibilities and things to get done on a basic routine that begins my day.

Now not everyday can be exactly as the one before. Although that would be best for me I am certain DH and most sane people would get rather tired of the monotony of such things. Today we began with our routine and as our morning wound down and the difference of today began I was triggered. It was not DH’s fault. He was voicing an opinion to someone else that had nothing to do with me. Absolutely nothing, but his voice and sound made me feel he was unhappy and I internalized that to mean there was no way I could make anyone happy.

That in itself sounds crazy. The situation triggered my depression and eventually I was fighting the suicidal thoughts once again. When one believes everything is their fault it is a perfect solution to remove you from the world to make the world right again. I know this is not a sane person’s way of looking at life, but I never claimed to be sane.

The previous post gives you a glimpse of my life and how my brain works. IT also gives you an idea of how careful my DH is to protect me. Why there are so many steps and rituals to cover before he decides what is best in ttwd. He never makes a snap decision. He always takes time to evaluate my place and mental state before he speaks or takes action regarding my actions.

Domestic discipline gives him a benchmark and gives us a form to follow so to speak to handle these delicate situations that develop in my mind. He knows I am intelligent, he knows that if I was not fighting disease I could do or resume my previous role as a bookkeeper and business manager. But until there is a miracle cure of my curse we are working within these bounds very carefully.

Today he woke to the person I described in Ugliness. I was confused, frustrated and not rational. I was haunted and a simple action by him triggered all of it. We work daily to stop the haunting and win this battle over my mental illness.

The Ugliness

I am in a space. It is white no windows, no doors, no definition of a room just a space. A circle of wooden straight back chairs with forms occupying them. A single chair sits in the center this is my chair. I am sitting hands folded, patiently waiting. I can see the forms in the chairs are beings and these beings are all forms of me. Each is a little different but they are all me. The child, the teenager, the young adult, the mother, the caregiver, the matriarch, the daughter, the sister, the wife, the submissive, the entrepreneur, the nymphomaniac, the chronic depressive, the suicidal, the will to live, the quitter and the fighter. All of the many versions of me sit around the single me that is my body. Spirits, ghosts, of my past, my present and my future.

This place has no definition. This place has no agenda I am aware of this place is home to the many versions of me. A spirit though appears she is over us all. Floating about with crooked nose, warts and knots on her skin. We, the many forms of me, can see through her transparent form as she circles us. She is an elder or a leader. She controls my destiny.

Her transparent long hair flows behind her and her ugliness exudes from around her and I feel fear. She is my controller, my puppet master, she determines who will be alive and who will stay behind. Each day I begin my day in this room all the versions of me waiting for a chance to control my thoughts and my body. Sometimes I only have one version operating me and sometimes there are 2 or 3 fighting within me on the same day. We do not always fight sometimes she choose versions that compliment each other, those days are good. The days she chooses to put the conflicting versions together tears me apart and makes me sick. My mind cannot take the turmoil.

She still is swirling the air above and her choice has not been made. This ugly creature is evil. She hates me I can feel it. Her control over me is a game for her. She loves to watch me fight to survive when she puts Suicidal me with Chronic Depressive me and she takes me to the brink of death.

Today she chooses to mix my world and blind me to her choices. Geometric shapes begin to fill the room. They come closer and float out of reach moving away as quickly as the approach. The center me begins to feel very small and then very large as the shapes dance about me. Colors and Dots join in and begin to dance around me. I feel nothing in my heart but my stomach feels sick. Vertigo begins to rise within me and my hands feel num, big, clumsy. I am unable to touch or feel the objects around me. I can not place my fingers around the dancing items. My body grows large then small over and over increasing the sensation of vertigo.

I finally stop.

She has chosen the spirit of ugliness has decided my day. I begin my journey into today not knowing what parts of me will prevail. Then the trigger is pulled. The events unfold and I am greeted by chronic depression and suicide. My two worst enemies, the two parts of me can destroy my will. They can pull me under and I find I promote those that love me to hate my very existence.
The fatigue in my soul makes this day too surreal to move through. I want to give up I do not want to fight this again. I just want to close my eyes and let my life end.

I am full of frustration. I am angry my emotions run the rampant river of rage and self loathing. My self control is lost. This new place is strange as I see my children’s father across the room his new girlfriend next to him. There is a kitchen table between us and I stand next to my husband. The table is filled with can goods and bills. Everyday expenses of life, my anger builds inside me at the former lover before me.

I pick up the cans and I begin to throw them at him. I am strong. My anger rages within me and I am on a mission to end his life with the cans.

He screams in pain as I hit him. His girlfriend stands and watches unable to comprehend the scene.

He becomes coherent in his screaming, “Control that crazy person.” He says to my husband.

My husband reaches to control me and I fight him. Although my frame is small I have strength in my anger the adrenalin pushes me on. I pull away from my husband and continue to plummet my ex with the cans. Watching him begin to cower my heart finally feels vengeance. I feel relief that I have beaten him. I feel power and justified.

My husband again tries to control me. With the power of justification though I become weak, I begin to cry. The sadness envelopes me and I leave. I leave them all there in that room with my destruction. No one follows, no one tries to stop me and I continue my journey to end the control of the ugliness that enables my life.

The Path

My DH and I have traveled very different paths to find each other in our mid lives. Our backgrounds are similar and completely different at the same time. He was 7 ½ in 1966 when I was born. In 1977 I was 11 and news of the hostages in Iran rang in my elementary school classroom. DH was a marine in Okinawa, Japan on alert waiting for the President to either send them into combat or stand down. The 80’s found me as a high school student and eventually care taker of my grandmother, while he became a father.

We are together now although we are from different experiences in time. Our views of history and opinions of actions taken are seen from different angles at times. All couples though have these differences. Our intimacy though is seen through different angles of different lenses.

When I make a mistake or step off our path I feel I should be punished. I feel he should take me in hand and correct it. He knows, in his wisdom, that no one punishes me more than myself. He waits for us to talk about it. He listens to how I analyze my mistake in conversation with him. Then he gives me his opinion and ideas. I see it through his lenses and angles. He in turns sees what happened through my lenses and my angles.

Domestic Discipline has taught us to communicate honestly and openly. We calmly explain our points and visions. He is still the leader and he makes our decisions but I feel validated that he actually listens to me. That my words are not swept under a rug and forgotten, I also see how well he listens when he comes up with something I told him about and either gives it to me or utilizes my idea. He is quicker to praise me when I have done well.

This thing we do has brought us closer and our intimacy is above anything in my experience. This lifestyle choice is bringing me slowly out of the shadows of despair. My mind is beginning to feel sharper and appreciated I feel valued. I am also beginning to write again. A craft I though my disease had taken from me. So off I go into another facet of my life a happy disciplined wife.

Some Frustration

I am frustrated. I know I should not be. This thing we do is at his discretion not mine. He is the leader of our family. I am the submissive The whole point to domestic discipline knowing your roles. I am to accept the discipline or non-discipline action he sees as best. I am supposed to understand and trust his decisions.

I do trust his decisions. He is doing a much better job of handling our lives and goals than I was. I believe that this is best for us and he is a strong and capable man. I am not questioning that at all. What am I belly aching about now?

I messed up. Friday I threw a temper tantrum, I was pissed and threw the bungies I had in my hand on the ground and stormed off to get Mia out of the truck. It was not just him and I working together I did this action in front of other truckers that work for the same company as he does.

You may be asking what made me so mad act like such a brat. So here it goes I am hard of hearing. We were in the middle of tarpping the load I spoke of yesterday. There was this young kid, George, maybe 28 to 30 years old. I am 40-something and this kid is as old as my oldest boy that I raised. I am also hard of hearing not deaf just hard of hearing any back ground noise and I am deaf basically. Put into this picture we are standing between the front of the trailer and the cab of the truck with an auxiliary
power unit (APU) running on the back of that cab.

DH says, “Fold the flap under.”

I don’t hear exactly what he says because of the APU it takes me a moment to look at what he is doing and understand what he wants me to do. Now that process takes a moment longer than actually hearing what someone wants you to do. Well dear George steps in takes my job and pushes me aside like I am an idiot.

DH and I believe that “A wise man listens and a foolish man speaks.” George had been a speaker and his friend Niko was worse. Both of these kids know everything about trucking.

Niko was dumb enough to say, “I have been there done that and have hauled every kind of load there is to haul.”

Oh Brother!

After all of that to be treated like an idiot, I lost my temper.

DH comes off of the trailer and around where George is and guides him away from the truck. I thought DH was just going to stand there and talk to this young person for a while, which aggravated me more because I wanted to get done with our work take a shower and get as far away from these two young people as fast as possible.
DH says to me, “Why don’t you open the cab and let Mia out?”

I threw my bungies on the ground got Mia out of the cab told her to go to her Daddy and I picked up my bungies and turned on my heel to the other side of the truck out of site of my DH and these young men.

I with anger in my heart began to bungie down our tarp and finish that side of the trailer. I was seething with anger. I do not like to be treated as though I have no brains. Maybe I am sensitive because I can not perform the work I studied because I can not deal with people because of my illness. Maybe it’s the fact I can not hear and the perception of deaf and dumb.

DH comes around to my side of trailer “Mia gave me a two bagger of poop.” I glare at the tarp and keep working.

DH says, “Hey you’ve done a really good job over here finishing this up.” I showed him some places I need help or had questions about and we returned to the other side of the truck to finish up. The two young people were gone. DH and I finish I still feel angry.

He again tells me how impressed he is with my work. I tell him I want to take a shower. He agrees and I go to the shower. Although I am mad I calm down while in the shower and I feel better. I also know I have been disrespectful and should be punished. I pushed that to the back of my mind and did not worry about it.

Our day ended quietly and we went to sleep. I was not angry when we went to bed. I was not angry when we woke up and honestly I had forgotten all about being angry. Then I read someone else’s blog post about confession and not allowing yourself to get away with stuff because it is the same as lying. I brought up my anger to DH. We went over the events how I perceived them and how he perceived them.

When George took the tarp from me, DH finished what he was doing and came around to my side of the trailer not to have a conversation with George but to move him away from me. DH told me he would have been mad too if George had done that to him. He knew my anger was really about those two young men. That I was tired of listening to their comments and discussion, DH also said he understood. I asked him why I had not been punished for my anger. “I don’t deserve it.” he said.

Now writing all of this out I see his point. I did throw the bungies on the ground like a brat, but I took my anger and did something constructive with it. I let him handle George and I did not attack DH with my seething. I controlled myself. Wow maybe DH does know

The Sheer Dress He Loves

The Sheer Gown He Loves

Here I am again, wearing the sheer gown he loves moving down the road at 65 mph in a semi. This is the life I love basically naked, him teasing and tormenting my flesh at his leisure. Oh my what in the world more could a spanko/BDSM submissive want? I don’t think that outside of scenes there would be much more to ask for. 24/7 submissive is heaven for me.

I am in trouble again and domestic discipline will take precedence over play tonight. As you know I hate opening mail and dealing with pressures I have no control over. I don’t like my DH having to deal with it either so I hid a lot of important messages, letters and bills. We earned a very good pay check last week and with that my DH called to pay ahead on our insurance. Guess what? We had not had insurance on our personal vehicle since May. The bill was unpaid by me for at that time I was still trying to do what he wanted me to do and not admitting I was incapable of handling the responsibility. The notices and such went unopened and the insurance company cancelled the policy and sent it to collection. Oops! He took care of it and all is fixed, but there is one strike.

Then we went to Costco. We have a business membership that earns us rewards. A good thing since we buy our supplies from there. Well I did it again, I did not open the letters or notices from Costco either. He went to the customer service counter to make certain when I membership needed to be renewed and the clerk advised us of the unopened rewards in an amount close to $150.00. The clerk saw the look DH gave me and quickly added that the envelopes the rewards came in could easily be mistaken for advertisements. Hmmm wonder what her home life is like since she picked up on that look so quickly? LOL Anyway strike two.

Now move forward to yesterday. We are loaded with specialty woods again headed for Georgia this time. Specialty woods must be tarpped which means a lot of work for us. DH decided to tarp the load at our yard in Missoula which is around the corner from the shipper. This meant that other drivers and wives, mechanics, office personnel and management are walking by while we are working. DH removed a plastic utility shelf from our ladder and was pretending or threatening to spank me with it. I said a little to loudly and moving like an errant child, but I have been a good girl. Unknown to us we were being watched and only noticed when we saw the raised eyebrow and quizzical look of a fellow driver and his wife. We just laughed because it was play between us, but still was their damage done? We do not know yet.

I need to learn not to react so loudly and draw attention to us. But he is just as guilty as I am after all he started it.

We have been playing and loving each other. Our unity is bound so tightly. The intimacy is outstanding. Yet I am always amazed that when I think there is no possible way we could be closer we become closer than ever. I feel he loves me for me and I am learning how unconditional his love is. Oh he bought me some things also I did not ask for he just noticed I needed them and bought them. I now have new hair scrunches and some dressy under ware. I really enjoy domestic discipline, although I am not looking forward to be disciplined later today

New Beginnings Monday

I think today would be a good day for a beginning. I mean it is Monday the middle of August after one of our fabulous meteor showers. Why not a new beginning?

My posts have been a lot of regret and why me self pity never a pretty thing. In my defense though when you are of moderate intelligence and you do have a margin of common sense if you turn about and find yourself acting crazy to the point of being damaging to those you love most who would not suffer great guilt.

Yet today is Monday. We unloaded our truck early this morning and we are now headed to Missoula for our hotel and the truck to be put in the shop. This means I get some one on one time with my Sir or DH. We also have a list of ordinary mundane tasks that must be done in one day that most would do in a week. Prescriptions, mail, shopping and oh Laundry.

I was spanked yesterday as I wanted and maybe that clicked my brain. I also talked with DH about the haunting and inability to fall to sleep. Now writing my post yesterday and talking to DH about those ghost’s seems to have helped bunches. I am coherent, spunky, and alive this morning.

I am also a little worried about the condition of my ass after our stay in the hotel. I have been reminded what to pack. His main thing our toys and implements, since adding the bit to his toy bag he can muffle me. Which means no mercy, my trust in him is paramount and I am looking forward to being his toy, but I am also a little afraid of the pain. I love the pain but it still worries me some.

I have decided to include in my blogs a positive about my life and where I am at the moment. Today my positive is this I feel a release from the bounds of guilt and I am going to do my best to perpetuate that feeling for as long as possible.

Emotional Eggshells

My vanilla post:

The reality of emotional eggshells is my current position. I am on the verge of tears or laughter, screaming in pain or sitting quietly at peace. This is not an unusual place for me I spend a lot of time in this position. I am happy in my life, but I squirm in pain for the losses. I can not seem to let them go.

I have had several joyous and beautiful experiences. The birth of my children and the unconditional love I receive from them. The great loves of my life and my passion for them keep me happy. I can laugh and be funny. I can entertain with my humor and I can make fun of myself without hurting myself. Now that is an accomplishment.

The losses though overwhelm me. The pain I can not release. Every night when I lay down to begin to sleep the losses haunt me. My heart and soul leaps and cries as the images begin to fill my mind. I become restless and cry with the deep anguish within my chest. Sleep is not my friend or at least getting to sleep is not my friend.

My conscious hours find periods of these same haunting emotions, but the constant change of scenery I am currently living helps to refocus my thoughts to the positive. Don is beginning to catch my periods of being haunted and can diffuse the energy very well. I have to let him sleep and rest. I try so hard to keep still and quiet when it is time to sleep so he can get rest. Traveling in an eighteen wheeler his rest can mean the difference between life and death.

I have found that if I create a story or fantasy within my mind and concentrate on it I can eventually get to sleep and the haunting images and thoughts are put at bay for the night. There are a few times that I wake us both up fighting swinging violently, kicking, screaming. Poor Don tries to control me to keep him and Mia from getting hurt. So the good or happy story I concentrate on does not always stay with me through out the night.

I know all of this is a direct result of my mental health. I am beginning to lose hope that it will ever be any different for us. I can not remember not fighting the demons of my mind. Will I ever win? Will I ever be able to let it go?

Now do you see why I am on verge of such opposite emotions? The girl must be mad!

The Rest of the Story

Those few paragraphs are from my vanilla blog which I posted this same day. They are truthful of my place on this morning. Since my children and step-children read that blog I don’t tell everything. Our Domestic Discipline side of the story, on mornings like today I feel a great need to taken over his knee. I know that when he does this I will click back into a somewhat normal place.

The tears will flow, my ass will burn and being punished will allow me to move forward. The consequence will be a few days of rest for us both without the haunting. The spanking releases me from the emotional pain.

This situation leaves me wondering why. Why does my mind punish me until the next time he takes me over his knee and my tears flow freely? Before we began ttwd I would sit for months stuck emotionally stuck in a haunting unable to let go, unable to move forward. I am thankful the period of time that the haunting stops is becoming longer and longer. This is a good thing it is a very good thing. The order of my life becoming fulfilled, loving with a twinge of normalcy.

Domestic discipline gives him a tool to help me. He is no longer helpless and must sit and watch me punish myself. He does not have to wonder if my illness is pushing me to far to the edge. He has an action he can take to help. He can take the head of household position and with his soothing voice calm me with firm direction. We can battle this disease of my mind together.

His control, affection, protection and understanding keep me sane. The haunting stops for a time and I can function. I wonder though if domestic discipline had been in play earlier in my life would I be as wrapped and having to fight the disease to survive. Would my mind have healed instead of taking the leap of death it did? Would I have been a better mother? Would I have been able to get out of bed and care for my children as a mother should?

Those questions I can never answer. The past is gone. I can look to the future of our goal of retirement. Maybe my illness and the compassion and awareness my children have of mental illness, maybe one of my children or grand children will find a cure the bad gene in our gene pool that creates non-working minds like mine. Maybe I will be a good Grandmother. Maybe my life was to be to promote a cure in future generations.

I can only hope.

I Can Count On Him

We had our 34 hour restart yesterday in Sparks, Nevada. This weekend is Hot August Nights in Reno and we could have gone, given it was in walking distance of the truck stop. We instead stayed at the truck stop and the casino next door. We enjoyed good meals some gambling and then … LOL

This new adventure with his sadistic side in an adventure of my submissiveness and limits as well. I am impressed with his imagination. He amazes me. I also can stand proud he listens to me. He is repeating to me phrases I have said earlier in the week either from a story I have read to him or a blog of interest. TTWD, this thing we do, when he used that phrase exploded me into such pride.

When I decided to be completely honest in this relationship and be who I am instead what I thought was expected of me. I was afraid that my words would loose merit my ideas swept under the rug. I am very pleased to announce that my DH, my Sir, my loving husband listens more than any one ever has. Is it because I am completely honest with him? Is it because when I decide to say something I say it in a respectful soft and thought out phrases that are non-chastising? Is it because I trust him completely? What is the leading factor of success in this relationship I really don’t have an answer too.

I am enjoying and fulfilled in this life. When the pain of our recent decisions becomes to much I can count on him to help me. When I am filled with happiness and pride I can count on him to happy and proud with me. When I become giddy and silly I can count on him to enjoy my silliness. I can count on him.