I Am Still Here, I Think! Kidding I Am.

What do you write after being away from it for a while?

Life has gotten away from me; spring break, kids, all the little things along the way, and to add to it major writer block.

Lately I have been thinking more, and more about being submissive. It is a struggle to be who I feel I am, and  be what I feel I should be...or what everyone wants me to be....maybe it is just what I think everybody wants me to be.

Sir Jay had a comment on the sleight of a conversation we were having about I don't know what...but he made a  reference to me being a submissive, and how he has not met many women like me (that being a submissive outside of the bedroom as well). I took offence, I perceived how he said it to be of a negative factor of what feel I am, not a positive. I may be over thinking a simple comment said during a conversion that I forget what it was about. I may be looking too much into something that just is not. But I can't seem to shake his on the slight insight into my submissive.

Such an insignificant comment causing so much conflict in my head, why is it that I do this to myself, making something out of nothing?

Why is it that I continue to struggle with who I am? I continue to fight with the demons inside, and they seem to mostly have the upper hand....every now and then though, they will throw me a bone which leads me to think I may have won the battle, but then I realize I still stand inside the struggle.

I can't shake the thought that being of a submissive nature means a weakness of character. I question my own feelings inside. I am not weak, I know I am not weak...hell I am a single mother raising three girls all on my own, yet even with that knowledge of knowing the struggles of being a single mother, even with the knowledge of knowing how much strength was needed to overcome the death of my beloved, to overcome my fears of losing my mind, to overcome being alone; I still don't feel good enough. I feel weak because I can't do it all. I can't be the perfect mom, the perfect daughter, the perfect friend, the perfect sister, and most of the perfect woman.

Never going to be good enough, when am I ever going to be good enough?

One comment on the slight in a conversion I had in which I do not remember. Just a simple insignificant comment on who I feel I am, who I am; has leaded me to a cluster of unreasonable thoughts of who I think I should be.

How does one ever cure the over thinking mind, without drugs?