Category Archives: Family

Dominant/Submissive, Family, Fear, Life, Pain

My domme did it.

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Hospitals are not immune to pathetic. I am so blessed to have a loving family and good friends. Bravery is relative but despite all my temptation to drop the wall it remains stoically bolstered against the tide from hell. For helpless is not permitted. But?

I am writing a second novel and exploring dominant and submissive roles. It is very applicable to hospitals and emotional walls. Honestly i would love to be submissive to some degree as a patient. Have a dom make decisions to insure my health and safety with my pleasure as their overwhelming motivation. To lie back and let the walls fall. To be able to unburden the fears unencumbered by my need to people please. My need to care. The idea is appealing to have sweet hands holding my face in place telling me “I’ve got you.”

Instead i continue to take care of. My role as the domme. My roomate in the early throughs of dementia aware shes losing her mind with no family and friends who are more afraid of her. And a nursing staff who have no clue how to focus her to relax at 330 am so I can get sleep. So my domme did it.
Case in point a friend reaching out on behalf of a friend who has more psych pathology than anyone should be burdened with in a major crisis. So my domme did it.
Case in point a family member who needs more reassurance than the person in the hospital bed. So my domme did it.
I am tired and spiraling down the rabbit hole. My incredible hospitalist embraces my inner submissive by asking “is there anything more i can do for you?” That’s for my inner sub.

Family, Fear, Life

The best

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The sound of the barking dog brought me to consciousness. The morning was spent watching my youngest’s football game in the company of my oldest daughter, son and husband. The alarm that morning made me jump. The very first breath unsteady and painful. My nostrils flared at the exertion. I sat up and reached for my inhaler. I sucked in barely able to get the two pulses in. “You must move.” I willed myself.

The walk to the field hurt. The oxycodone was hitting nothing. I held my husbands arm hoping for his strength. I was light headed. I smiled at my fellow parents as I took the stand. The fake smile I was used to giving. I was exhausted. I closed my eyes and made a silent plea. I calmly reached for my mental respite. The sun beat down despite it being early morning and a late September day. There was no escape. We baked. I was cold despite the heat but the ultra violet light was so toxic. I will not give in. I prayed my long sleeves would protect me along with the sunscreen. The game was so terrific and the shy look from my sun on the sidelines made it so worth it. A memory for my sweet angel. The best.

The walk up the path to my front door was unbearable. I felt myself weaken every step. I carried on the silent conversation with myself wishing each step. A made it to the couch and immediately fell into a deep sleep. Flustered six hours later I was conscious. Pain seared me and again I repeated the same routine I have repeated over and over. The inhaler and the pain pill. Just carry me through a dinner with my husband and oldest. Again the best.

I have been sharper and more vital. A thought of maybe things are better. An emotion getting out of my head. I feel the tick of the clock loudly again. My body feels like it is again messing with me. I hope it is different but I flinch. I am no longer interested in the worst. I force my body, like a challenge to hope for the best.

Emptiness, Family, Fear, Life, Lupus, Medicine, Pain, Police, Rape, Soul, War

Restlessness

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I sit quietly alone. My eyes close and I begin a meditation for my day. I cannot quell the mental interruptions. An air of restlessness fills me. I breathe. Focus on my breathing, but I cannot. What is filling me with this uneasiness? Again I breathe. My lungs ache. My soul aches. My head pounds. My heart aches. What is it? The seat of my soul screams in pain.

I open my eyes and stare into space. I feel the world. I cannot shake these feelings. Ferguson, Staten Island, Texas, all deaths at the hands of police. 28 years a cop’s wife flies into perspective. I am afraid for him. It has become open season on police. He works as a leader of a group of men who respond when the police call for help. He deals with the craziest, angriest, and most dangerous. He has stood on the remains of the world trade center, has crawled into crushed cars to calm and rescue the injured and trapped, he has forced his way into homes of the deranged threatening to take their own lives and those of others. The list goes on and now I am afraid because it is again politically correct to hate cops. I am afraid.

Two little girls are kidnaped in a small town in NY. They live a simple life. And in a heartbeat it will never be the same. Two monsters take them into a world of darkness by sexually assaulting them. I have two daughters. I am afraid. College campuses catch the news media as sexual assault complaints rise. The debate about morning after remorse vs criminal act continues. I am afraid. Nothing has changed since I was in school. My thesis about the dirty little secret of date rape is as pertinent today as it was then. I close my eyes and feel the evil touch of a man who I considered a friend. I still cannot hear “When doves cry” without wanting to vomit. I have two daughters and I am afraid.

The world is such as small place. I am trained as a research biologist. Ebola and an entire group of other diseases are just a plane ride or gene mutation away from becoming a problem here. I am afraid. I have four children. The keepers of the science have made deadly mistakes in the care of the diseases they study. By the grace of god we have stayed safe. Carelessness will be our undoing as hours are long and the caretakers are reduced in budget fights. I am afraid.

Evil continues to fight in this world. Israel vs. Hamas, Tribal wars in Africa.  Groups so passionate in their beliefs that the murder of children is tolerated. I have four children. I am afraid.

Watch any news show and you see ignorance. People who believe only what they hear. Studies show the more humans hear something, they take it on as their truths. Media obstructs truths. War is ugly, people die. It is not a sanitary process. People fail to follow lawful orders of police. Life is not a law and order episode. There are consequences. Children are disrespectful of teachers and teachers are unable to discipline. Parents rule the schools. Learning disappears. I am afraid.

The fall season is soon upon us. School begins. Life continues its circle. The feeling in my gut begins to swallow me. I feel hollow. My heart beats fast in my chest. My mind races. Breathe. Slow down, Concentrate. Breathe. Fear. Breathe. Why . Hush. My body aches so. I close my eyes. I breathe. I am afraid. 

 

Death an dying, Emptiness, Family, Life, Pain, Soul, Yearning

Living well while dying or just plain dying well sucks.

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I graduated today. Not in the sense that most people do. I graduated to narcotics. I looked at the CVS bottle, now in the geriatric bottle because my hands cannot handle the twist top filled with the little white pills that fill the news. I sit here and cry another bucket of tears as I pop one into my hand and swallow. I pray it works to take away the pain, I am ready for some relief in my life.

Relief, Ha what a concept. I am tired. The armor I have carried and displayed so long is pock marked with the hell of the war. The disease, I will not even give it the notoriety of its name is wining. Not only is it debilitating me further, today I realized it claimed the life of those I keep dear. In fact they do not read what I write, nor ask or bother with how I feel. Oh yes a proforma are you ok. The fucking answer is no. I hate this and I want to scream and cry and no one in my fucking family especially the man I am married to for 25 years, the man who I have loved forever, has the balls to let me cry. Somehow the intensity that falls out of me is flowing as the clocks seems to be ticking louder scares him to death.It scares me too. I am ready. But the reservoir I need at home is dry and empty. Their fear precludes my needs. I yearn for so much. I can no longer do or fix. Someone else must sign up.

Today, I arranged a lunch date with a friend. I know it was probably a goodbye. We ate a meal and talked silly stuff. We talked about our families. We talked about my Chinese menu,  Jewish funeral planning. My friend is a man. I consider him a dear friend. FRIEND.  Well lock me away in fort Knox. And all it was, was somehow in my heart a so long. A childish temper tantrum by an offspring totally ripped wide the gaping hole of emptiness In my heart. The cavern of emptiness is larger than the grand canyon which sadly will not be discovered by any of those that cause the most pain because they show no interest in my writings. My secrets that somehow the world shares but them..

Two visits to doctors reinforced the time bomb ticking below the surface. The painfully low blood pressure, the pain exploding in my head, my vision blurred, the increased right sided loss of balance demonstrating more brain destruction and potentially another stroke. They won’t subject me to another MRI. No point. The Cryptococcus titers showing positive still..where is it lurking. The 16 hour sleep cycle, the fluid in my lungs . And the list went on. And he promised that I would be given the pain meds that I need. That the worry about addiction is moot. Its only going to get worse.  All I wanted to be held and to cry. So I sit here alone in tears, empty and broken. Reality is hard today.

So this desire to live a life worth living is my wish. It is getting oh so harder. It is especially alone at home. The love and support I receive from those outside my microcosm is so wonderful. My friends in my life are my wellspring eternal. Gifts from my world. That helps me stand. I pray for them daily as without them I would fall. So as I hope for some relief. I pray for some peace..

 

 

 

Death an dying, Family, Life, Rape, Sex, Uncategorized

Sanctuary

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Amanda Tilton Sea Cliff1

Sanctuary: a place where someone or something is protected or given shelter. I thought about this tonight as I looked at the exquisite picture of home taken by Miss Amanda Tilton.

Sanctuary: a place where someone or something is protected or given shelter. What is sanctuary?

The idea of sanctuary has been elusive to me in my lifetime. The first memory of no sanctuary was a horrid birthday party at age 5. Creepy in a mansion in Bayville, my skin crawled as the puppet man played the piano and the children played musical chairs. My memories are in black and white. Flashes come but I still shake at the incomplete memory.

Another loss of sanctuary was being a 13 yo girl at the Orthopedist with my mom. Sitting on the exam table to get my cast changed. My mom leaves the room. She had her first heart attack. Mom’s can die. She lived to have 5 more heart attacks. But limbo world I lived.

The assault on my psyche continued into college. Not only was it an assault on my psyche but my person and my space. I can still see his face, smell his cheap cologne and feel his cruelty. My apartment was no longer that sunny place. A pretext to study, became an assault. No alcohol. No drugs. Violence and Power. I called a friend who dragged me to the hospital. I returned to class as if nothing at happened. The police strongly advised me it was not worth the pain to report. My senior thesis about “Date Rape” written in 1986 received a commendation from the President’s Office at Stony Brook University. I advocate for Sexual Assault Victims. Sadly today, not much has changed on college campuses. No Sanctuary.

April 2, 2006 my feeling of safety and security flipped as completely upside down as it could. A trip to the ER to confirm a mono diagnosis due to a bad blood drawer turned into a parent’s worst nightmare. “Mrs. Dunn, Can you come speak to me across the hall. Is there someone we can call?” The line remains vivid in my head. T-Cell Leukemia. But he’s just 6 years old.To watch a child endure the vicious testing, treatment, side effects of chemotherapy. To feel ineffective as a parent to your three healthy children who needed a mom, but was too occupied in keeping my youngest alive. To watch a marriage become one of convenience…two ships that pass in the night. Sex was hall sex where we both yelled fuck you at each other. No Sanctuary

And finally the invasion of my body by a cruel and miserable hateful disease Lupus. It attacks the Sanctuary I have all along. Me. For as this disease attacks my brain and body. As it steals pieces of my life, my job, my ability to drive, my memory, my strength, the ability to breathe, alters my relationships with my friends, my family and my husband, I will not let it steal my Sanctuary. Sanctuary is not a place but it is within each and every one of us. My Sanctuary is me.