I stopped blogging nearly six months ago, not because I didn’t like doing it, but because I felt the only thing I had to write about was negative, and who wants to read (or write) that?
C and I remain interested in the FLR, the cock cage, the kink, but we never really seem to get things off the ground and running. Mostly, we don’t have sex at all. There are plenty of excuses (work, schedules, health), but they’re all bullshit, really. When we do have a night of kink, it’s one night out of a thousand misconnects, and I wake feeling that I’ve failed him by not going extreme enough. I assume he’s left feeling a underwhelmed.
I don’t think it works to have very little sexual contact or reference and then be expected to turn on a hairpin, running 100 mpr with the kink. It feels weird. We get hesitant and embarrassed and we don’t talk about it with each other. Then everything gets fucked up.
There are things that I feel I’m missing for myself, but what is my responsibility in all of this? Certainly, my libido has dropped. I’ve gained weight and feel terrible, emotionally and physically. I have a lot of guilt attached to that, which makes things worse. Also, I’ve taken a big hit to my career, which has put me in a tailspin. I think it’s time to talk to someone about depression. My not addressing what’s going on is my failure to do what I should to keep our marriage happy.
Guilt, self-medicate unhealthfully, increase problem, guilt. Rinse and repeat.
I don’t feel sexy. I don’t feel powerful. I don’t feel like Miss H, and it isn’t because I don’t like the kinky stuff we’re into. It’s me. I don’t like me.
We had something this morning. A fight? A discussion? An airing of grievances? A meaningless listing of what’s wrong? Nothing came of it. Nothing resolved. We ended the conversation because we had no ideas. We both need to do better. Communicate more. Internalize less. Turn off the fucking tv. Give up the excuses. We’ve had this conversation 10 times. We love each other. He’s sure I’m going to confess one day that I’ve never enjoyed the kink or his dressing. I’m sure that I can’t meet his desires and so I fail him. In the end, I let him leave the room this morning because neither of us knows what to say or do and he was only standing there because I didn’t want to end without a resolution.
I left to pick up some lunch. He was asleep by the time I got back. We’ve spent no time together this afternoon, nothing to soften out the hard edges of this morning. He might wake up having shaken it off, or at least able to put this morning behind him. I’m a ruminater. I worry. We won’t connect again on this problem, at least until the next time, and eventually well be ok. At least until the next time.