My depression ruins my creative juices. I sit down at this computer and I try to write about bondage and sex toys and all the wonderful things that turn me on. But I can’t seem to shake the urge to just want to cry and eat junk food. I read about the sexual adventures of others and I want to write and fantasize about my own. But each time I attempt to let those kinky thoughts flow I get distracted by life in general.
I’m sure I’m not the only submissive that struggles with this. When your urge and interest to write about a fascination with oral sex is crushed by a lack of motivation to do anything. I thought it was just the cold I’ve been fighting. I have been tired lately and struggling to stay on task. This morning I woke up with the cold symptoms almost completely gone and my quantity of work hasn’t increased. If nothing else, I almost think my work pile has grown.
I keep trying to watch porn and flip through my Tumblr account to inspire me. But even those clips and pictures make me want to cry. Out of jealousy, out of fear; I have no clue. The last few afternoons I just stare at my screen and my eyes well up at nothing. Feeling wave after wave of hopelessness and doubt for no real reason at all. Then I look at the clock and have to run through the shower and get the kids from daycare. Then the automated evening routine of cooking and cleaning take over until the kids go to bed.
None of this is sexy writing fodder. And I cannot use him to pull myself out of it like I did when we had an M/s dynamic. I have to do it myself. That makes me sound lazy, but it’s a lot harder than it sounds. And considering I can’t let exchanges like this go, I’ve got a long road in front of me.
Me: I’m an open book. You can tell when I’m upset.
Husband/Sir/Whatever the fuck he is now: You’re always upset.