Tuesday, April 6, 2010

I'm Still In Here!

The hormonal imbalances that cause my bouts of depression hit me hard and fast out of nowhere, like those cartoons where Bugs Bunny gets an anvil dropped on his head, and stars dance around his cranium while his eyeballs roll around in their sockets like marbles. To my credit, they are happening less frequently, and I have been cheerful, productive and good humored 90% of my waking hours since Babyman and I have begun out new relationship a few months ago. My marriage is happier, so I am finding more joy in life. But it still happens, and on Monday evening the storm clouds of an unexpected wave of depression moved in on me and I began losing control of my emotions.

These are the times when I desperately want a cigarette, or when I don't want to get out of bed. I'm anxious, irritable, angry at nothing and everything, and poor Babyman is lost in a sea of confusion. Did he do something to upset me? Did he forget something? Did he hurt my feelings somehow? He wisely gives me my space Monday night, hoping it will blow over.

He walks into the bedroom Tuesday morning and catches me pacing back and forth, a clear symptom that I'm about to explode. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Nothing!" I'm snapping at him now. The answer lies in a myriad of possibilities: The weather is cloudy and gray, I'm sluggish, I don't want to go to the gym, I'm disappointed in myself for overeating last night, he's preaching tonight at a ministry across town, and I don't want to spend the evening alone, I have bed head, I don't want to do laundry... A hundred stupid reasons, and not one legitimate one. All I know for sure is that I feel a profound sense of sadness, insecurity, isolation, and it makes me... angry. What the hell is a hormone, anyway? And who gave it permission to take up residence in my body and screw with me like this?

I crawl back in the bed, violently kick the covers to the floor as I grab the top sheet and pull it over my head. Babyman knows I need some time alone, so he walks out to continue his morning routine. I hear the shower, his electric razor, and I begin to cry like an idiot.. I'm mostly crying because I don't know what's bothering me, and I'm taking it out on the sweetest guy in the world.

Before long he comes into the bedroom and dresses. I'm curled up in the fetal position hoping he doesn't try to communicate with me because I have no control over how I'll respond.

Finally he appears at the side of the bed and informs me that he's leaving. I kick the sheet off and sit up, but can't look at him. A few months ago I would have just mumbled an abrupt goodbye, and let him walk out the door, but he made it clear that that's not acceptable anymore. When he leaves, we have to have physical contact, and some semblance of communication. Okay. So I sit up and wait for him to bend down and hug me. I can't take the initiative myself. I'm lost in my own misery.

He sees I've been crying. He's more than familiar with this scene. "You need to get to the gym today," he says. "you'll feel better."

"Yeah," I mumble.

"Sugar..."

"What?"

"Baby, you need to pull yourself out of this, or... I'm going to have to go in and get you." He always had an interesting way of putting things. The idea that his loving wife is being held captive against her will inside the outer shell of a crazy lunatic bitch was really not far off the mark.  Part of me wants to scream, "I'm still in here!  Don't give up on me!"

I finally make eye contact. I know exactly what he means by coming in to get me. The whole concept of spanking me out of my depression has been effective.  Somehow it replaces the diminished endorphins, and causes me to purge myself of pent up anger and frustration and the horrible feeling of anguish from an unknown source. It works. But it also hurts, and God, how I hate it.

When he says this, I try to smile. I don't want to be spanked. I want to try to handle this myself even though I know it'll take all day, and I may not succeed by the time he gets home tonight. "I'll be okay," I say. I don't think my pathetic smile is fooling him for a moment.

He grabs a hold of my arm and lifts me to my feet and presses me against him. I breath in his scent of cologne and deodorant and mouthwash. I hold my breath in an attempt to keep from bursting into tears.

When he walks out, and I hear him lock the door behind him, I collapse on the bed, and start crying again. How am I going to get through this day? I decide that my best bet is to try and go back to sleep. After about five minutes, I hear a key in the door. He's back. He probably forgot his glasses, or maybe his phone. I wipe my eyes and remain still. Maybe he'll just get what he forgot, and leave again without feeling the need to check on me.

Suddenly I feel a tap on my leg. I look over my shoulder, and he's standing there with the paddle in his hand. "Come in the den," he says.

"What? Why? I thought..."

He disappears from the door, and I'm compelled to follow him. He 's sitting on the couch, two pillows are on the floor between his feet. It's me! He came back for me!

"You're going to be late," I say.

"I don't care," he says. "You're more important. I couldn't leave you like this."

"I'm okay, really."

"No you're not.Come' on baby, let's just do this. You'll feel better."

I slowly get in front of him and drop to my knees onto the pillows between his legs. He gently guides me over one knee and tells me to lift my nightshirt. He wants me to do it myself because he wants my willing participation. I obey. I feel him lean down and kiss me on the small of my back. I start crying almost uncontrollably. I feel him tighten his grip around my waist and he begins slapping my behind with the paddle, gently at first, but then a steady rhythm ensues, harder and harder. I'm sobbing now. I can hear him talking to me, and I'm really only picking up the gist of what he's saying. "Love you... I know you're in there... Come back to me... need you to feel better... need you...hang in there... you can do it... I want you back. You gotta come back to me... " the strikes of the paddle are getting harder, more deliberate. My backside is on fire, and he shows no signs of letting up. I'm wiggling now, starting to try to free myself. He holds me tighter. "I know, Sugar, it's almost over," he whispers. I'm bawling into the comforter we keep on the couch.

He finally stops, and I am exhausted, still blubbering and sniveling. He lifts me up and hugs me while I finish crying. "I'm getting your shirt all wet and snotty," I say.

"I don't care." He walks me back to the bedroom and tells me to take a nap. Then he leaves for work while I lay on my stomach and fall into a deep comfortable sleep. I awake 2 hours later. The anger and anxiety are gone. I don't like the fact that my depression can be spanked away like that. It's not a very politically correct thing to admit, and I have a love-hate relationship with the whole concept.
 
But I'm glad he came back for me.  I'm always still in here.

13 comments:

  1. I know exactly how those feelings overwhelm...I know the feeling of being trapped in your body....I know exactly how a spanking helps make it better....and I have no idea why, but I just try not to examine it too much.

    You've got a wonderful guy, SugarAnne

    Jenny

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  2. Me too SugarAnne. I have felt like that, been thru it, and have a love hat relationship with spanking at those times, but how very blessed we are to have husbands who will come in and get us!

    So well done, and thank you for sharing this.

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  3. Oh, Lord, Sugar - like the rest of the ladies here, I can relate. (As I've said in my own blog lately, I've been in "pit-bull" mode lately). My rabid dog syndrome (lol) is very much like what you described here, so it MUST have something to do with our hormones. I think all of us women here have been through this, to one extent or another, and it's no easy thing (for us, or our men).

    I would agree, Babyman sounds like a wonderful guy, we can all see that he just adores you!

    Good luck and hope you feel better soon!

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  4. Jenny, Sara, Jen
    How does it happen that we all go through this so often, and our men don’t run screaming in the opposite direction? What makes them stay and stick it out when we feel and act like creatures from hell, heaping abuse and irrational attacks upon them when they don’t deserve it? I’m grateful that he’s willing to come in and get me, but I wonder… how would a massage and a box of Belgium chocolates work in these situations?

    Thank you all for relating. I feel less isolated.

    SugarAnne

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  5. A massage! How sweet! Are you suggesting that you would give ME a massage and a box of Belgium chocolates for going in there to get you? Great! What a wonderful idea! But you don't have to. I'd go in and get you anyway.

    Uh...or...how silly of me...

    You're suggesting that YOU would prefer a massage and box of Belgium chocolates......

    ....ALONG with your spanking. Ah, yes, of course you would. I didn't see that in the HoH manual - must be in the revised edition. I'll have to get on that.

    Signed,

    Not running or screaming;
    Quite to the contrary.

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  6. LOL that's hilarious...Sugar of COURSE we can all relate - you have more friends here than you know! ;)

    I love the massage and chocolate idea, and have often wished for the same thing myself...but alas, all I've ever gotten for throwing a tantrum is the spanking and a serious but loving "talk". Those help, but...yeah chocolate is often the solution to all of our problems (if only just long enough for us to devour an entire box, lol)

    Babyman's right, that isn't in the HOH manual, but it damn well ought to be - little do they know it might make our's and their lives a little easier!

    Chocolate is soul food!

    Not sure why they don't run, I don't think there is anything I could do or say that would make J leave me....must be a man thing! (Or an HOH thing)

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  7. You know, I tried massages and chocolates - I got really depressed over the cost of the massage and the calories in the chocolate - so he still had to spank me. I asked him why he didn't go running and screaming, and he said it was because he loved me, and because he would miss spanking me. Awww!!

    jenny

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  8. Sugar Anne,

    Thank you so much for writing in a way that is so humbling and honest. It's been a privilege to read. Nothing compares to the feeling of having your man 'come after you'. You are truly blessed. KayLynn

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  9. I do understand this. Sometimes, only a spanking works. And, then the world gets back on its axis again.

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  10. SugarAnne,
    You're right about hormones having no right to invade our bodies every month, they should go back from whence they came! I enjoyed your writing very much, and it was a touching story. I would love to hear how Babyman explained his tardiness. Perhaps, "I'm sorry I'm late everyone, I had to spank the devil out of my wife!" lol
    Elysia

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  11. SugarAnne,

    You've got one heck of a man there!!! The love you have for one another is such an inspiration to us all.

    I know how hard hormones can hit us and it truly isn't fair, but hang in there they will go away eventually and you and BabyMan will be stronger for the walk through this thing they call menopause.

    For those of us wired this way the only thing that helps is a good old spanking whether we want it or not. Luckily our HOH's know when we need just that.
    Janet

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  12. SugarAnne, just read your blog for the first time, tardy of me I know, but its great!!! Thanks for sharing, and yes, I can relate, and my darling man sounds like Babyman's twin!xxx

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  13. I am aware, of course, that this entry is quite old. Despite(or perhaps, in spite of?)that fact, I was so deeply moved by the way your husband was there for you...as a champion. I am not a member of the DD scene(so to speak), and I do not know if it would ever truly be the right fit for me. Yet, having rapid-cycling bi-polar disorder means that I have been in similar situations, over and over again...

    I have *never* had that breed of connection, with *anyone* else in the entire world... The sort of connection that would motivate said individual to take charge and help me hold my head above water level, when I truly needed it. It is my honest, and fervent hope, to one day have a bond akin to the one you and your husband appear to have. You are both truly blessed! <3

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