room to breath

I keep trying to write about how difficult the past 6 weeks have been.  It just sounds like whining.  The fact is - they were impossibly hard, mentally, emotionally... It has used all my capacity and then some.  They have left me raw and completely depleted.  

It all isn't over, but i've had some room to breath: the past few days have been, by comparison, much easier.  And i am very thankful for that - I need my strength back.  

This post is for gratitude.  My husband has supported me so that i could support the ones who need me.  He has let me fall apart so that i can be the strong one for them.  He has taken decisions out of my hands so i can be the one making the hard choices for others.  He has adapted our dynamic so that i could manage all the other roles I need to fill.  He has pushed me to do the next hard thing, and the next, and the next.   He has even gone to fill my place when i was too sick to stand up.  

And as i move in and out of my life here, in our home and our family, and in our dynamic, he has let it ebb and flow in a way i can handle and which feeds me.  Now he has started to tighten things back up, as i'm getting my strength back, so to speak.  I am working to cooperate with it, to go along His way, to shift back; not just that even, i am trying to shift my focus off of me where it has been for so long.

With this time to breath again, has come desire again: a little, mini sub-frenzy all over again.   I am overcome with wanting to feel Him.  I have intrusive fantasies of pain and use and domination.  I would sit and read or watch porn all day long if i could.  I poke at him in subtle or not so subtle ways hoping to provoke a more vigorous response.  I am aware of a palpable space around myself, a space i can move in that feels too large and too open.  My skin, my body, my heart, and a very large portion of my brain want to be bound much more tightly, much more aggressively to him.  I'm not sure i could get enough, I'm not sure it wouldn't be dangerous.  

Partly it's escapism - a desire to lose myself in things i crave, and to leave the inexorable worry and the impossibility of it all behind.  I recognize this.  But it is also me, it is who i am, these desires and wants. Some small part of my mind knows i should be grateful for this too - that he keeps me, keeps us, in the real world.  That he makes me focus myself, control myself, be responsible for myself.   That he won't let it be dangerous - not in that way.  That i get what he gives, not what i think i want.