Hard. Rough. Violent.

Sounds like a wicked adventure of lust doesn’t it? Unfortunately, that simply is not the case.

Nope.

The experiences I am describing happens to be that which I define as my “OCD episodes“.  For anyone who is not aware of obsessive-compulsive disorder allow me to share with you that this way of thinking and feeling is not fun nor is it an easy way to live.  Now before I continue it is important for me to stress that I genuinely believe that people can overcome, conquer nearly everything that comes his/her way but there is a price to achieving such a goal and often the journey is riddled with challenging obstacles.

I have lived with myself for nearly 39 years and have been aware of my uniqueness for approximately 34 of them. I have had a lifetime to face my demons; still, every now and then I find myself overwhelmed with my psychological virus. Living with ocd is tricky because just when I think I have control over my rituals I realise I am in the process of making new habits; ones to compensate for the lack of the original ones, which of course only masks the problem(s) rather than overcoming them in the first place.

Today I experienced a rather unexpected rage of ocd and it was from such a simple idea Master shared with me.  While returning home from a great day, Master told me he was going to move the cage into the cold room so that the young woman would be able to spend the night downstairs.  For the average human this slight adjustment of household furniture would most likely bring little reaction, for me though it caused a cruel, cold wave to come crashing down, angrily thrashing me up against my control boundaries.  To properly illustrate the ridiculousness of my reaction, it is important to note that the cage was in a bedroom I rarely enter and has not been utilized in close to a year.  The cage has stood alone, out of eyesight for close to 12 months and is not part of our everyday use and yet, the mere idea of changing its location startled me.  Of course it was not just the cage but rather what it meant for the young woman to be sleeping in the basement because for me, in my bizarre mind I moved from:

• cage in cold room
• linen in cage
• basement dusty and musky scent
• linen dirty and smelly from cold room
• young woman returns home, linen stays downstairs, becomes mouldy
• mouldy linen becomes garbage
• cold room requires cleaning to remove odours and messy linen

Yes. That really was my thought process and although this is not new for me, I had for at least a little while, controlled my over exaggerated mental process and now I seem to have lost that ability and am starting to feel as though I am drowning. It is not fun to feel anxious about what I can not control and it feels even less pleasing when I know I am irrational and still allow the ocd to control me rather than controlling it.

A few weeks ago the young woman came for a visit and unlike other times I left the house to spend some “me” time as I really appreciate time to myself. Master had agreed to my departure prior to the visit and at around 12:50pm I left Master and the young woman at home and went out into the neighbourhood.  My first stop was the grocery store which took a little longer than I had expected and although I started to feel rumblings in my stomach, I encouraged myself to refrain from returning home and instead I went and watched a movie.  I was gone a total of 5 hours and I sincerely enjoyed myself, I did experience a level of anxiety throughout my afternoon of freedom.  Interestingly I was not anxious about what Master and the young woman were doing; in fact I had hoped that Master had pushed the young woman, both mentally and physically and that they had experienced a rather “hard core” afternoon. My leaving for such a long period of time was a first and although I felt confident on some levels, I felt uneasy about others.

You see, my anxiety did not come from their physical interaction but rather from wondering if:

• did they clean the toys properly?
• are the toys all back in their spot?
• did they eat and if they did, did they clean up afterwards?
• did the young woman squirt/orgasm because if she did, did they remember to use a towel, clean up afterwards?
• did they pull out the sofa bed and if they did are the cushions in their appropriate place and not on the floor with the blanket neatly folded?

My concerns played on my desire to control my environment so that I would be returning to a space I felt comfortable in, felt safe in. I surprised myself with that revelation because prior to that one Saturday I thought that my anxious butterflies had to do with sex and being intimate with another and granted I am sure at one time there was some of that but in this moment it had to do with my home, with my atmosphere.  In the past I was in the house, cleaning up as the play went along. I washed all the toys; I vacuumed the mess; I kept numerous towels available for whatever bodily fluid might escape; I put all soiled linens into the washing machine and started it immediately; I made the majority of the meals therefore cleaning up afterwards so at no point in time was I not in control, was I not ensuring the sanctuary I called home.

I stayed home on purpose so that the atmosphere was contained, neat and orderly and that ritual albeit at the time seemed healthy, really only perpetuated my ocd mentality and that was proven a couple of Saturday’s ago.  That was the first light bulb I had in a very long time that showed me I am rapidly loosing the tools I once was given – instruments attained through years of therapy and that my episodes are quickly becoming a burden on an individual level as well as a couple. It is not easy being me, it is not easy being with myself therefore I can only imagine how challenging it must be for others,  Master especially.  I am aware that my responses and reactions are often extreme and defensive and I am not excusing such behaviour, I am in fact facing my actions and working towards a healthier, happier life.

I am uncertain as to how long it will take for me to relearn all that I appear to have lost. What I do know is that I want to return to quieter seas and I am willing to do pretty much anything to get my internal boat back up and floating and I think one of the first steps is to stop thinking so much (a reminder from a very special friend) and to breathe: long, deep, refreshing breaths that help clear my over productive mind and provide me with the opportunity to embrace the moment, to laugh, to take pleasure from this amazing life I have been given.

And to trust myself and trust Master. Trust and relinquish control.

One. Maybe two steps at a time.

~cockdoll