About eight hours ago, I lay on a table and Dr. K put a bunch of needles into my back. There was a cluster of three that she put in right about C8 that she said were to make sure I would sleep tonight. *sigh* Between Beloved's allergy snores, Baby's kicks, and my own head screaming at me, sleep is as elusive as ever.

I had ORIGINALLY written something light and fun to be posted today...but it was also more of a random life, parenting thing. My thoughts are presently occupied with more D/s orientated notions, so I guess I am replacing the light and fun with heavy and dreary. That alone makes me a little sad.

I was meandering through people's various journals this evening, and Sir's post this morning is what is haunting me at the moment. I am often told that I trust too much and too easily, and while he hasn't taken advantage of the soft, painful places in my soul, I know he could.

Just over six months ago, Clockwerk ended our relationship. It came at the height of my hyperemesis, and I was devastated by the way he so casually called my submission into question. I wrestled with my identity and agonized over my D/s relationship with Beloved. I hated Clockwerk for what he did to me...while we eventually resolved the hurt, we aren't really friends anymore.

In my breakup chat with Sir, he challenged me on certain things, and again I found myself wondering if maybe I wasn't want I thought I was. I'm fortunate enough to be surrounded by loved ones who jumped to my defense in wake of my questions, and I thought I was going to be okay...

But when Sir wrote this morning about arrows...well, there are poisoned tips I handed him myself. My thoughts have been racing through where they might come from, which targets would be likely. Part of me wants to arrogantly dare him...that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger...

Someone recently said that D/s is more intimate than marriage because of the level of vulerability. Beloved and I have tried to delve into D/s and have found it frustrating because we are so familiar with the sharp edges and we live with the results of the challenges to those edges. Beloved has seen me reduced to a creature afraid to leave the house or even get out of bed, and has repeatedly nursed me back from the edge someone else created.

I don't want to put Beloved through the agony of dealing with that yet again.

"Oh, pity them, mortal! To think of the many precious hours they are losing in worshiping their earthly pleasures! And let it carry a deep and lasting to thee, ignorant, selfish, vain mortal that thou art! For thou must now see thyself in thy true colors." ~ The Miser

It isn't going to matter that the attack wasn't made. The threat is enough to make me shy away again, and this time, I'm closing doors behind me. As it is, I do not sleep and hate what I have become.