It’s been a while since I posted. This one is personal and DD related 🙂
I am heading out for a morning run as soon as I post this.
Why?
- Not because I understand the wonderful endorphin rush that comes from exercise.
- Not because I understand my body’s needs for Vitamin D, and glorious, wonderful sunshine.
- Not because I want to tone my body and get back into shape after a few funny remarks, from my daughter, about looking pregnant in my fold over skirt. (My body type does not do well with fold over skirts. Alas, time to put the yoga pants on again ;))
Nope, I am going out for a run because my husband told me to.
Point blank.
I have been fighting depression (actually, it’s more like super highs, followed by tremendous lows. But that’s for another post – depression and the creative person) for over ten years now.
Sometimes it stays away, and I am at my lovely homeostasis – fast talking, high energy, hilarious jokes (only the right kind of person truly gets this humor, but that’s okay 🙂 ), confidence, exuberance, motivated, on target with all tasks for the day.
Then a low hits. These lows aren’t the typical, “I’m feeling blue” blahs. They are more like the deepest, darkest place you could ever go, and you think everyone hates you- most of all yourself. Every imperfection that you once found endearing, charming or beautiful, has now turned sour and ugly.
When I get to this place, I can’t even crawl back out. And hey, for a 5’2, 110 lb’er that has always been overlooked, but has thrived on competition and showing people they are wrong about the little, hyper gal, that’s saying something.
It takes special friends, who talk to me on the phone or internet. They bless me with words of love and affirmation. They pull me up, enough, until I can finally get to a ledge, catch my bearings, and pull myself out.
Sometimes, these waves last longer than others, and come more frequently.
My husband knows that I have been fighting something this past few months. He doesn’t understand it. But he makes sure not to turn his back from it.
We backed off on the spanking part of our relationship a month ago, because I was becoming more resentful, angry, and depressed because he did not have time to spank me. This has been a source of confliction for both of us for a while now.
He doesn’t like spanking, but does it every once I a while, because I have explained I want (and sometimes,) need it.
We didn’t want to resent each other, or our relationship, so we backed off.
Last week, he called me on his way to work.
After another failed attempt at getting myself motivated for a productive day, he took charge.
“Okay, here’s what is going to happen,” he said over the phone. “You are going to go for a run before 9 am. Then you will come back and write. If you can’t write at that point, do a quick clean-up. If your thoughts come back to you, go write, and clean later. This afternoon, you will go for a walk.”
Excuse me? (ok, this angered me a bit)
Now, being the highly submissive woman that I am (slight bit of sarcasm hinted at in the previous phrase), I immediately replied.
“That’s so grrrrrrrreat! Thank you sooooooo much for your suggestion. I was already planning on going for a run, so we MUST have been vibing off each other. Thanks!” (gush gush gush)
His reply was less gushy. “I know what you’re doing, and no, you don’t get to control this situation. You ARE going for a run, and it is because I am telling you to go.”
This led to a few more minutes of open conversation, where I was able to tell him how tired I was, and how sad I had felt that he had hurt my feelings earlier (it’s silly. He didn’t bring me home something from his business trip, but brought home stuffed animal ducks for our kids)
“I wanted a duuuuuuuuuck!” I sobbed.
We talked a bit more, and got everything resolved.
Now, he knows that I want him to bring me something from his trips, to let me know he was thinking of me- that I am cherished and loved and remembered.
Now, I know that he still leads our household, even though he is not spanking me. I also know that no matter how much I initially hate him telling me what to do:
I’ll do it.
Because I like it when he tells me to do something, especially if it makes me feel better.
I like submitting to him.
And I like exercising in the sun.
I am off for a run, because he called me this morning, and told me to.
Hugs and blessings ❤