The weekend

I haven’t done a lot today besides practice my Swedish and binge on the new season of Orange is the New Black.  I only have a couple episodes left.  I dislike that they release the entire series at once.  I can’t keep myself from watching it all in a few days but I hate having to wait an entire year to find out what happens next.

Weekends are difficult for me.  All I do is think. I live alone and I have a few friends but I don’t spend a lot of time with them.  Actually, my only friends are my coworkers and I see them all week.

My mind is always in overdrive.  Making me question every single decision I have ever made, making me question my current situation… everything.  Nothing is safe in my mind.  I hate it.

Patience

Either I have far less feelings than I thought or my mind specifically goes blank when it comes time to blog.  I stare at this blank page for 30 minutes before an idea even begins to float in my mind.

I’m just not an open person.  Of course, I’d like to think I am.  I am trying to be though, especially with Sir.  Especially after Sunday’s mini-meltdown.  It seems like all the parts of me that I consider scary do not scare him.  I still don’t feel like I really deserve him, but I am so thankful I have him.

The distance still gets to me, but I’m doing my best to stay patient.  I have expressed my fears regarding this matter to him a few times and I’m sure I will again at some point.  That was one of the driving forces behind my meltdown.  The anxiety just got to me.  I have never been a patient person.

 

 

Stella learns Svenska

I have a problem with bottling up my feelings and they all kind of overflowed on Sunday.  A mini-meltdown, I guess you could call it.  So, now I’m supposed to be writing every day per Sir’s instruction.  I’ll probably just write a blog post here every day because I forgot the password to my online journal.   I can’t guarantee any of it will be interesting.

It isn’t easy for me to write on command.  My mind kind of freezes.

Maybe I’ll just write about myself…

I’m learning to speak Swedish.  I already know a few words anyway, my dad’s side of the family is of Swedish descent.  We used to eat a lot of Scandinavian foods at holidays.  No, not lutefisk.  Homemade lefse and LOTS of it.  In fact, my great grandpa was born in Sweden and was probably a teenager when they came to the US.  My grandparents could speak Swedish and Norwegian.  I wish I had taken advantage before they passed away….  I get jealous of people who still have grandparents because mine have been gone for years…

Anyway.. that’s a sore subject.  It always has been.  Instant tears, basically.

Learning Swedish will give me a distraction from my anxiety.  Or, I hope it will.  I bore easily, so I constantly need something new to challenge my mind.  What better than an entirely new language?

On that same note, maybe that’s why I’m so dissatisfied with my job.  It isn’t challenging me.  In an attempt to fix it, my boss is giving me a different job and hiring someone else to do mine but I don’t foresee that lasting more than a few months before boredom sets in again.

Today has been a mediocre day.  I haven’t felt overly anxious but I also feel a little bit like I’ve just been coasting through.  There isn’t much more on my mind.

 

 

 

 

 

Feeling better

Yesterday was rough.  It’s better now but I still feel a little off.  To be honest, I’ve just overwhelmed with life.  Being in the hospital threw me off and stuck me with so many bills I can’t afford.  It’s okay I guess.  Somewhere along the line I have to understand my life is more valuable than money… that infection could have killed me.  I know that.  But why don’t I believe It?

I have Sir and I am thankful.  To be quite honest, I worried very much that my rash words would be enough to drive him away.  I just had so many feelings… so many anxieties and fears and they all came tumbling out in a series of poorly thought out text messages.

I spent the last 30 minutes writing “I am a good slave because Master tells me so” over and over again.  Even now I’m trying to repeat those words in my head, to make them stick.  I want to trust him and part of me absolutely does.  But part of me is still a terrified little girl.