Yesterday, i paid a few dollars to spend 45 minutes in a quiet place, looking at fake stars on the ceiling, listening to piped in New Age music.  Reclining in a comfy chair, tucked in with a blanket over me, i just breathed.

i was aware of my body, and sensations in my hands, my legs, my arms.  My mind drifted away, unfocused,  and i had a series of very odd – surreal – fantasies.  No  words, just sensations of being someone else.  Once it was an animal of some sort.

i think i fell asleep, or drifted into semi-consciousness after a while.  Aroused again by the sound of a Tibetan bell, signaling my session was  over, i sipped some lovely tea before leaving the cozy atmosphere of the shop.

That really centered me, and when i think back on it, it still feels good.  i’ve been wondering today if i can create something like that atmosphere at home, but i’m not seeing it.

i was really upset with my self yesterday morning.  MP had gone to the grocery the day before, and brought home some of my favorite junk food.  Salted cashews.  Doritos and onion dip.  The Doritos and dip were a childhood treat –  they taste of love and family.

i had some nuts and then some yogurt with blueberries, finally gave in to the Doritos and dip, and then i ate graham crackers with milk and was just disgusted with myself.  Oh, and  a piece of pizza left over from MP’s lunch.  In addition to a small healthy dinner.


So yesterday morning i woke up feeling a bit sad and hopeless.

i know he gets those things because he knows i like them – the Doritos and dip, not the nuts.  He gets the nuts because he likes them.  So sometimes i feel like the snacks are a gift for me.  A way he shows he loves me.  Of course i have to accept that gift.

Sometimes i think the snacks are an offering – an apology – a substitute for the kinky D/s relationship we’re not gonna have.   Of course I eat them.  This is what i get.

Sometimes i think the snacks are encouragement to keep gaining weight so no one else will want me.  You know, maybe not consciously, he’s not mean at all, but still.  When i think that, it makes me sad.  And i still eat them.  Cause really, what difference does it make?  Who cares?

Yesterday, i was able to remind myself that it’s my choice.  That i can take them or leave them.  The cashews, the Doritos, the dip.  i really don’t have to eat them.  Even if they mean love, even if they mean i’m doomed to be fat.  i don’t have to eat them.  And yesterday, i didn’t.

Yep, nothing kinky over here today.  Sorry.



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