I am a girl, Learning to negotiate, Love, Wonderboy

Enlightment On New Year’s Eve

The funniest thing happened. We went to spend the New Year’s Eve in the city we moved here from. We saw all of my best friends one by one, got to spend wonderful time with them, talk, sing karaoke, dance and finally even have an after party, drink wine and spend the next day together. On the dance floor, in this nightclub that we haven’t gone in years, the same dance floor we actually met for the first time with Wonderboy, we suddenly run into Joe.

What are the odds?

After meeting him I have absolutely no desire towards him. But it was funny seeing him. It was even more fun, or weird, when we took a taxi to my friend K’s place and K and Joe ended up sleeping together. (Not fucking, but cuddling – or so I’m told.) K didn’t know this was the guy I’d mentioned and she was pretty alarmed the next day, when I voiced my surprise that she’d take that guy into her bed. She said that if she’d known he had used prostitutes help, she wouldn’t have. But, you know, I thought it was a good lesson. You can never know where the other one has been, and I guess you should also judge people by what they do and how they act and not so much for their past behaviour.

Anyway. I curled up into a nook with Wonderboy and remember distinctly the last thing I said to be I love you before I fell asleep on K’s living room floor (on a mattress). I have never ever had as much fun as I did this New Year’s Eve. And you know why? Because Wonderboy didn’t drink, except for a couple of non-alcoholic beers, but took benzodiazepine. His doctor prescribed him benzoes for his panic attacks, which have pretty much stopped him from going out of the house, having fun and even having friends. We laid out the plan for the evening beforehand, and I asked that he keep me aware, how much he’s taken at any given time. I didn’t want any surprises and wanted to be alert, if something didn’t go well. He split the pills into 1/4’s and 1/2’s and survived the whole night with only two.

It’s almost impossible to explain, how relieved I was. It’s even harder to understand that I never recognized and handled this huge burden I’ve been carrying all these years. Carrying Wonderboy. Here are things that I was happy about, which might give you an idea what it’s been like to be, live and love Wonderboy until now.

He talked with my friends. He took part in the conversation, he even laughed and made people laugh. I saw him have individual conversations with people, without me. He was funny and himself. His voice was normal, relaxed as he talked – and even once apologetically talked over me! He didn’t cling onto me, didn’t grip my hand under the table or look at me with those panicked eyes. He was up with all the plans we made, all the places we visited. He made decisions about what he wanted to eat and drink, when to go to the bathroom or where to go next by himself. He interacted with bartenders and doormen, people in the bar. He danced with me and my friends, and when Joe came, he even hugged him! He told me he went to say hi to one of his workmates he saw while I was in the bathroom. He took initiave to order drinks, asked me what I wanted and communicated about all of it with ease. He wasn’t devastated that our last bus had gone and came willingly to K even though he was only drinking lingonberry juice while we drank red wine. He wasn’t shocked that we had to sleep on the living room floor and he slept effortlessly even though we weren’t home.

After a couple of hours with him on benzoes and some champagne flutes for me I felt so much in love with him. I felt so connected. I remember thinking this is the man I fell in love with. I guess I was also the woman he fell in love with, because I was beaming. I didn’t think about babies once the whole night. Nothing obscured my happiness, my fun, my enthusiasm. I needed it. I needed to feel loved, wanted, cherised. I needed for him to be my wonderful lover, not just my depressed husband. And he did. He is such a lovable, funny, thoughtful, beautiful and sexy man. I just kept looking at him, telling him how pretty he is and he answered with the same enthusiasm about me. I could feel, how liberated he felt after more than 10 years of trying to fight the panic attacks, trying and failing. And now he could do all the things he dreamt of doing – with ease. Thanks to a drug.

I hadn’t realized, how much I always carry him. I hadn’t realized, how he takes his anxiety out on me, lashes out because of the fear and the stress of not being able to do what other people can. What everyone should. Even taking a bus to the other city would’ve bee too intensely scary for him without the drug. I’ve told K and my other friends about his disorder. Numerous times I’ve had to retold the story: Okay, well if it’s a big party, then only I will come. Yeah, that’s a fun idea, but you do realize that WB will not come? They never seem to get it. I barely get it myself, but I see I’ve adjusted. I don’t expect Wonderboy to be able to go to the store every day. I don’t expect him to be able to ask beforehand about his vacation times, his commute, anything we need to know. I’ve been carrying a huge burden. The burden to be the only one in his life.

It made me happy to be free. I was independent, and that meant that I could choose to come to him, talk with him, touch him, kiss him and breath him in. Because it wasn’t mandatory. I didn’t have to worry about him all the time. I didn’t have to facilitate his every conversation and he didn’t spoil my fun by nagging about wanting to go home the whole time.

I realized last week that when I got angry at Wonderboy, as I’ve let on here, I got very quickly very succesful at setting my limits. I also got good at expressing my desire. When Wonderboy went down on me yesterday, I had the moment of wanting something so bad wrong wrong, hesitated and then asked him to say it to me. Say that I’m a filthy whore for liking this. I guides his hands and gave instructiong to really torture my nipples like nobody’s business. And I amazingly squirted his whole face and the bed into a wet mess. I guess it’s good for me to become irritated then, isn’t it?

When he asked me to play with him later on, but wasn’t sure, if he could carry it out – the same reason why we didn’t fuck earlier – and started to get real pissy, because it wasn’t working, I just left to the bathroom. When I came back I expressed my feelings on how he’d behaved. Not only had he hustled me away from his cock, which he’d asked me to lick, but he’d done it very rudely. He went on complaining and being an asshat taking me into no consideration at all. I told him that it’s not okay for him to bash me in a situation like that. That he needs to hold his shit together and tell me nicely that he liked it, but it isn’t working out. Boom – he started crying and apologizing. I also made sure to tell him that I understand, how disappointed he feels for not having an orgasm and also that I love him no matter what happened. We cuddled, tried to go to sleep, but he would just lie there awake.

Finally I asked him, if he needed to try to take care of business himself and he asked immediately, if I would feel bad about it. I understand that he would feel ambivalent over masturbation, because of what happened last time, but does he really not see the difference?

I just want you to be happy and fulfilled, I said. When he still seemed uncertain, I kissed him and whispered into his ear, how he should think about nice suffocatings. He smiled and hopped off to play with himself. I asked a permission to play too, because he’d denied it after he licked me. He gave me permission and I came thinking about what he was doing. He came back to bed after 45 minutes or so very happy, giddy and kissed and hugged me in an almost childlike manner before going to sleep.

I’m beginning to see, why everything’s been so hard on me as of late. Now that I’m moving on to bigger guns on the fertility proceedings – since nothing’s still happened – I think my mind’s set. He will go to therapy. I will do as I like, when I like and he will just have to manage. I will not be his mom and I certainly will take no shit from him ever again. Because now I realize I have an option. Just let him be. Wow. How could I never see it before?

Happy New Year to everyone and hope you tackle your problems in ways of furious dancing and drinking champagne too!

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13 thoughts on “Enlightment On New Year’s Eve

  1. Your description of WB’s anxiety behaviours makes me wonder if Minx sees me in a similar way…as a similar burden. I don’t think my issues are quite as extreme as what you’ve described here, but still.

    But that’s not the point of your post. The point is that you had an amazing New Year’s eve and some amazing epiphanies! Your statement that you’ll make Wonderboy go to therapy, stop “carrying” him around, and do what you need to make yourself happy made me almost cheer out loud. ❤

    Do you think WB is dominant in the bedroom partly to make up for feeling powerless often in the outside world? I know that's part of it for me.

    Make sure WB's therapist does cognitive behavioural therapy. The usual kind of therapy where you talk about your shitty childhood is not especially useful for social anxiety or depression.

    I'm so glad you got to fall in love with your boy all over again!!!

  2. Make sure WB’s therapist does cognitive behavioural therapy. The usual kind of therapy where you talk about your shitty childhood is not especially useful for social anxiety or depression.

    The is exactly the kind of therapy his been considering! I guess he himself knew what kind of help he’d need. I’m all for it. He just need to get his ass here, where we live, workwise so he can do the public healthcare routine. We can’t really afford it otherwise.

    Your statement that you’ll make Wonderboy go to therapy, stop “carrying” him around, and do what you need to make yourself happy made me almost cheer out loud. ❤

    Thank you for this. I am prone to take care of people and override my own emotions in doing so. I so much connected with your (latest) story about consoling Minx, while he was actually the one being mean at you. I always seem to do that too. Or then sometimes I’m the one to lose control and become very angry… But I try to keep it civilized even then. Sometimes, I think, I need to be a bit mad to say stuff outright, because I know it’s going to be rough on the other one and I’m already, beforehand, trying to cushion the blow. I realized I’m still doing it, and when I don’t, I feel like I’m neglecting my duties.

    I think this came up now also because my therapist is on a vacation, and now I really have to survive on my own. Since I have no one to pour my anxiety and heart out to, I realize that I can’t be Wonderboy’s emotional container. This makes everything change. It’s scary, but I know it’ll make everything better.

    I’m so glad you got to fall in love with your boy all over again!!!

    Me too. Now I know, even more profoundly, why people with small kids or demanding jobs need to form a date night. So we would give love a chance. ❤

  3. Andrew,

    yeah. I think the problem is that I’ve become so used to Wonderboy’s anxiety disorder that I don’t recognize it and everything it demands of us anymore. But I am mapping it now. This can’t go on like this.

  4. Your description of WB’s anxiety behaviours makes me wonder if Minx sees me in a similar way…as a similar burden. I don’t think my issues are quite as extreme as what you’ve described here, but still.

    You know I thought about this reading your post. If Minx is the kind of a guy, who always feels he has to full everyone’s needs, he might suffer from it. He might subconsciously think that he needs to facilitate your life, and thus he locks his own too. But he might still think and feel about it very differently, it’s impossible to know. Your description of the disorder is pretty one to one with Wonderboy’s, but I think WB is also depressed, which makes the situation blow-up worthy.

    You might want to talk to him about it?

  5. I actually read some of your post here to Minx and asked if he feels the same way about me. He says that he doesn’t.

    The big difference, I think, is that you sound like a very outgoing and social person, so WB holds you back a bit, whereas Minx is only slightly more outgoing than I am. And we’ve recently established that he suffers from anxiety as well – there have been many times when I wanted to go somewhere with him and he chickened out (which is frustrating because most days I don’t feel up to going out by myself…so if he bails, I stay home annoyed that I didn’t get to do what I wanted).

    I know what you mean about not realizing how bad things have gotten. People with anxiety learn to live around their limitations (which is why it never occurred to Minx that he has some issues until I called him out on it) and I’m sure their partners do the same thing. It’s like walking through your rooms in a particular path in order to avoid the furniture…it becomes automatic and you never let yourself think about all the awesome floor space you’d have if the bed wasn’t there.

  6. I actually read some of your post here to Minx and asked if he feels the same way about me.

    Woo, that’s kind of intimidating. To be read aloud. This stuff is really here for anyone. Meep.

    And we’ve recently established that he suffers from anxiety as well –

    In hindsight I think this might be the real difference. I remember Minx conveniently forgetting your anxiety issues sometimes. That could’ve been just his own anxiety meddling in. As opposed to – I always take Wonderboy’s anxiety into consideration, I smooth the road for him, I facilitate his friendships and relationships, I understand and understand and end up walking right over my own feelings, because I try to understand his anxiety and (help him) work with it.

    Your allegory about avoiding furniture is perfect. That is exactly what it is. I’ve become to have these doubts that living like this, not demanding some things from WB because of the disorder, but spesifically making room for his anxiety, might be as damaging as covering up for my abusive and alcoholic ex boyfriend. I think that, you know what you’ve asked for, for example meeting in a non crowded place or not attending parties with people you don’t know are easy things to do. But I feel that WB’s anxiety disorder comes between us. He gets so scared so quickly and starts this defencive act that can go on to absurd lenghts. Even when I haven’t really done anything bad (although I do believe that people have the right to get angry and frustrated, if they don’t lash out because of it). Sometimes I feel that I have absolutely no right to express any negative feelings, or even ambivalent, because of his anxiety kicking right in. This is the thing that makes me frustrated and angry at him. I’m okay with him being a monk, if that’s his thing. I’m not okay with him avoiding me.

  7. But I feel that WB’s anxiety disorder comes between us. He gets so scared so quickly and starts this defencive act that can go on to absurd lenghts.

    I think both our boys need to work on figuring out who they’re really angry at instead of taking it out on us. I may have pretty crippling social anxiety these days but at least I know that the anger I often feel is at myself for having so many stupid limitations – not at Minx for not accommodating them.

    It may be necessary to remind WB at times that you’re on his side and trying your best to help him, so it’s in his best interests to be nice. 😛

  8. I think both our boys need to work on figuring out who they’re really angry at instead of taking it out on us. I may have pretty crippling social anxiety these days but at least I know that the anger I often feel is at myself for having so many stupid limitations – not at Minx for not accommodating them.

    It may be necessary to remind WB at times that you’re on his side and trying your best to help him, so it’s in his best interests to be nice.

    Right on the nose, this one! Exactly. I am not the one limiting his life, I’m trying to help him expand those limits!

    And I’ve been so undemanding I can’t believe, how thoughtful I feel in retrospect. 😉 Maybe my job (if I have one) is to demand things, normal things, of him. Like taking me to the movies or coming with me to a birthday dinner of a friend – and not making me feel like crap, when he then has difficulties being there, doing that and usually tries to wiggle his way out of the engagment. He only has to face those fears, if he can’t evade all of the situations which make him uncomfortable. And I think by avoiding them he’s just been moving into a tinier and tinier box; the fear grows and takes more space.

    How could a man this scared of the outside world be a good partner, lover and a dom? Yeah.

  9. He only has to face those fears, if he can’t evade all of the situations which make him uncomfortable. And I think by avoiding them he’s just been moving into a tinier and tinier box; the fear grows and takes more space.

    In my experience, that is how it goes…to a certain extent. BUT, please don’t think that you can make WB’s anxiety vanish just by forcing him to do more and more. For myself, there are two layers of anxiety: the layer closest to me is not wanting to go outside and be around people at all. This layer seems to calcify around me when I let myself stay home for too many days, but if I start making myself go for walks, to the grocery store, etc., I quickly remember how to be part of the world again. That layer of fear liquifies and I can move again, a bit.

    The outer layer is fear of unfamiliar places and new people and crowds. I have managed to do things that trigger those fears on many occasions, but it never gets any easier. And I’m pretty pissed off by now at all the people who told me “Oh, just come to this event; you may feel scared now but you’ll end up having fun” because that never worked.

    Although actually, maybe if someone had made an effort to introduce me to bigger things gradually, it’d be different. My well-meaning but clueless friends were trying to take me to huge arena concerts and stuff when the most I’d usually do in the outside world was go dancing in a smallish, familiar club.

    A book called The Highly Sensitive Person might be of use to you (or it might not…have WB take this test first and see: http://www.hsperson.com/pages/test.htm). A big part of my own anxiety is my sensitivity to noise and touch: when I’m out in the world I have less control over my environment and can be startled by sudden sounds or touches at any moment, which is nerve wracking. I suppose that means my anxiety can never go away, but at least I know what’s going on and can take steps to make things easier on myself.

    How could a man this scared of the outside world be a good partner, lover and a dom? Yeah.

    I absolutely agree that anxiety interferes with being a good partner. WB’s skills as a lover aren’t relevant unless you’re keen to fuck in public, and I don’t see how dominance is relevant either unless one is in a 24/7 arrangement. I’ll admit you hit a sore spot there (since Minx said this very same thing to me back in June or so) but I don’t think I’m just being defensive when I say that events in the bedroom have nothing to do with events anywhere else. When I’m alone with Minx and holding his head by a fistful of his hair, I know right down to my bones that he belongs to me. I speak with authority and make him whimper and give himself up. And it would be this way whether or not I felt awkward making small talk with cashiers at the mall. If a dom(me) is authoritative, creative, intuitive, and respectful of limits, who cares what they’re like outside of a scene?

  10. Pingback: To Be My Owned Again | Past the Hurt

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