I’m going nutty. I’m driving out of my city almost five days a week. This is not ok for me. I’m losing my mind. I’m cancelling friend meet-ups because I cannot fucking drive. Modesto today sucked.

I mean, the trip was fine. But driving to Modesto and back sucked.

This week I have to drive to Mountain View, San Jose, Modesto, Sunnyvale, and I was going to drive down to the Santa Cruz Mountains. I just can’t. I’m about to lose my shit.

I’m having 4-6 medical appointments a week. This is not sustainable. Not when so many require lots of driving.

I’m pretty sure I’m putting my main shrink on time out indefinitely. I may not fire her in messy fashion, but I need a break from driving to Oakland.

New/Somatic shrink says they really appreciate me telling them to read my book slowly because whoa. Yeah, I know. I can’t read more than a chapter at a time because it is so distressing.

I feel like I want to be having 3-6 appointments in a week. Instead I have 14 depending on how you squint. (4 appointments are kid exercise classes so… getting 3 a week just isn’t happening.)

In random news: I’ve felt much better after puking last night. My body felt almost human today. Even in the car. It’s not like a euphoric DXM puke, but that was a good puke.

Ok, random confession: I’ve been having weird urges towards using harder drugs. I’m not going to in any way shape or form but it is interesting to me that I’m having this compulsion. I don’t remember feeling like it would be fun during previous pregnancies.

Let me reiterate that I’m a fully cognizant adult who thinks the pot I use is bad enough… but I had the impulse and I want to be honest with myself.

Like, DXM sounds fun. Because for a few hours I wouldn’t feel any pain at all and being in my body wouldn’t feel like hell. I’m not going to do it because holy tomato Batman that’s not ok. But I’m thinking it.

In this moment I don’t even hate myself for my horrible compulsions. I’m not doing anything about it. I’m just thinking about it.

I’ve been thinking about our M/s contract. The first line I stole from my friend’s contract. The first duty of the slave is to protect their mental and physical health.

I’m in a different place with that sort of thing right now than I ever have been in my whole life. I hurt myself less now. I damage myself less. I put myself in fewer toxic/abusive situations. I actively eject people who are showing red flags.

This has been a slow, gradual process. I was not ready to be told I had to put my mental and physical health first at any other point in my life. I may have pretended so with my former Owner but goodness that relationship was fucked up. It was fucked up with strangely healthy boundaries but it was still fucked up. I made a lot of choices that hurt me because I wanted to make him happy.

I’ve made a lot of choices in my marriage to Noah that hurt me because I thought it would make him happy. Changing those dynamics is hard.

This was the point of my marriage though, right? I wanted to learn how to be healthy. I wanted to learn what supportive and loving looked like. It’s still weird and different for me than it is for other people.

Other people can handle “teasing” that I can’t handle. I am too sensitive. I will flip out. Many of my friends are in marriages that… well… I’m glad it works for them because it wouldn’t work for me for five minutes.

Noah doesn’t taunt me. Noah doesn’t tease me. Noah doesn’t put me down in “jokes”.

I don’t think I am as respectful of him and that makes me feel small and ashamed. I need to stop denigrating Noah. Even in my thoughts.

He says I’m doing much better than I did for a few years. There was a peak period of me being shitty to him and this isn’t it. Even the cheating period was different.

It is hard feeling a mixture of feelings for him. I feel like he has earned love and adoration and respect. I STILL WANT TO BE FUCKING NASTY TO WHITE DUDES. This is a problem. Is it because all white men deserve it? No. Because I’m a petty fucking asshole. Because there have been just enough white men who suck that it is really hard to let my defenses down, even with someone who has been as kind as Noah has.

I told Noah that part of my asshole-shit is based around the fact that when I was a kid the only valid stories were about white boys/men. The only music that was supposed to exist was either men singing or women singing about men. Movies are supposed to tell the white male story because that’s all that matters. I am so completely oversaturated in stories about white men.

But diversifying is complicated and messy.

How do you appreciate the stories of people from other demographics without appropriating and being evil?

I don’t fucking know.

I just know that I’m bad and bad and bad and I don’t know a way to not be bad.

Somehow telling myself “But I’m getting better!” just doesn’t make me feel good about myself.