The last few days, I've felt like10lbs of pain, in a 5lb space.

It seems that there is no end to it. What makes so frustrating is that I will take medication for one thing, only to have another rise to the top.

Being August, my allergies are runnig amock. I can't breathe, I sneeze, my eyes cry, my ears are stopped up and hurt. I take the only allergy meds that seem to work on me, at the risk of driving my blood pressure up.

My periood has come, bringing with it the excruciating cramps. I'm eating 800mg of Ibuprofen and 2000mg of Norco... it makes it barely tolorable.

I don't think I've lost the headache in weeks. I seem to wake up with it every morning. Sometimes it's so bad that I can't stand to open my eyes. Esgic is my best friend. I have to be careful to balance it with the Norco... usually alternating doses, so that I don't end up with too much.

The xanax has been an interesting adventure. Somehow my last prescription dose was DOUBLED. I had tried to discuss some potentntial changes to the xanax on my last appointment, and it was overlooked. The office ended up just calling in the prescription to the pharmacy. I'm not sure where the mistake was made... but on paper, I've gone from 2mg XR once a day, to 2mg XR TWICE a day. That makes for a total of 4mg per say. I looked it up in the PDR, and that dose is within acceptable limits, but usually only for EXTREME anxiety. While I've had some of that lately, it's not constant. I've tried to keep to the old dose, but there have been a few days where I've taken advantage of the extra dose, just to keep from ripping a head off and ..... well, you know.

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Things have been stressfull here at home in the last week.

The first was an instance of him getting in my purse. his excuse was he needed money. he knows where I keep my money. For him to have found the questionable item means that he was going through my ENTIRE purse. I was not happy. It ended in a screaming match, mostly on my part, and I told him to stay the fuck out of my purse.

The second instance was him finding the mark on the back center of my neck. I guess my ponytail had slipped to the side and the area was exposed. I told him something must have bitten me. I didn't lie, LOL.

I hate lying.

It's the one most single reason that I "outed" myself to him 3yrs ago. he can't claim that he doesn't know what I want. What I need. What I have to have. he just doesn't understand that he CAN'T fill that need. he thinks of it as dressing up for Halloween. It's a costume. It's a part to play. he doesn't understand that it is the VERY fabric of me.

There are moments when I can barely stand to remain in the same room with him. Let alone have any sort of conversation or physical contact with him. This is when the panic sets in.

I know some of these emotions are aggrivated by illness. But some is just the frantic urge to be free of all of this, and to be what I feel in my heart. I would rather give up everything I own and live in a one room apartment, if it meant freedom.

Freedom.

That's  rather an odd choice of words.

Maybe ESCAPE is a better word.

Yet I do want to be "free" to live the life I know I was born to live.

It's ironic that it's taken 50yrs for my mind to open up to the point to truely understand my inner needs. But, better late than never, I guess. I envy those of us that have instinctively known all of their lives. And yet, maybe I've known and repressed it.

I can remember being  a young girl ... 14 maybe, and making an outline of my "ideal man". Again, ironically, what I was trying to put to paper all those years ago, I now realise was my desire to have a Dominant in my life.

I wanted a TALL man. I wanted to feel small, compared to Him. I have always prefered dark men. Dark hair, black beard... yet, not all of the men in my life have been such. I love hair. I'm tactile. I love the "feel" of a man. Rough hands. Capable hands. The beard, or the scruff of one growing in. Something that I can touch with tips of my fingers. Something that I can just barely get ahold of and pull on.

Ok, enough of this for now, I'm not currently doing myself any favors. I'm only making myself miss Mine.

Mine. He's mine, and I am His.

In all my years, I don't think I've ever felt like I belonged.. as much as I do now.