Friday, May 5, 2017

It's like a kinky fairytale

April 29th marked the one year anniversary of meeting the love of my life, the man who keeps the moon and stars in the sky, who owns my soul and demands my worship. 

This year has completely changed my life. I am not the person he met one year ago. I'm better and stronger, emotionally and physically. Words cannot express how grateful I am. To show him how much I love him, I continually strive to deepen my service to him. 

We get closer and closer everyday. Last night, we stood together in the shower and laughed like idiots. He's my best friend. He takes better care of me than I do. He taught me that I was a slave and has gently and firmly helped me to deepen my position below him. 

He's been forgiving of my weakness, understanding of my pain, all the while encouraging me to be a better version of myself. 

When he kisses me, the same electricity still shoots down my spine, weakening my knees and wetting my pussy. I still get the same thrill from the way he looks at me, the way he can be tender one moment and stern the next. 

I never expected to find love like this. I had given up. I had decided never to marry again. I wasn't willing to make that kind of commitment to anyone. 

I remember the day we talked about it. 

"When I ask you to marry me, you will say yes."

"Yes Sir," I said. 

That was it, end of discussion. I felt the fear quiver in my belly, the uncertainty in the back of my mind... But trust trumped it all. I let go.

We aren't engaged yet, but it has become a fact on the calendar of our lives. It's going to happen. Only he knows when. And I'm alright with that. I'm in no rush. The idea still frightens me, but it doesn't come close to the way that I love and trust him. 

Sometime in the next few months, I am going to get my first tattoo. Yesterday, I made a decision about it. I want Daddy to choose it. I want him to place it. And I don't want to see it until it is a permanent decoration on my body. I think it's a beautiful picture of the trust that I have in him and my desire to be marked as his. It will be a permanent I love you. 


Daddy, 
I cannot imagine my life without you and I don't ever want to try. I love you desperately and without reservation and I know you feel the same. For the first time in my life, I can be 100% me. I don't have to hide anything. I've never experienced transparency like this before. Thank you for loving me more than I have ever been loved and for accepting me for who I am. I cannot imagine a better person to have as my life partner, my PIC, my monster, my sounding board, my strength, the father of my children, and my beloved. Thank you for this beautiful year and thank you for all the years to come. 
I love you.

Mortal Combat: Catlytt vs. Anxiety... FIGHT!

Hello all, 

It's been too long since I have written. We have much to discuss. 

The past few months have been emotionally hard for me. I don't have a particularly good reason, but I have been struggling with my anxiety in a very overwhelming way. To ease the struggle, I have been filling my spare time with bad habits. I've been drinking too much... getting high enough that I cannot function... finding other ways to free my mind and my body from the constant feeling of butterflies in my stomach, racing thoughts, acid reflux, and intense, chronic fatigue. 

So I apologize to you, my dear reader, and myself for not respecting my body and mind as Daddy's priceless treasure and caring for myself as he cares for me. I have sorely neglected my duties. 

They say that bad news always comes in threes. It's been a little over a month now, but I had a week that totally wrecked me. It was a work week, so it was already fairly stressful. Master texted me on a Wednesday morning.

"My mom got diagnosed with lymphoma."

WHAT!? Who texts that sort of thing? So I called him and I was met with an almost disturbing calmness and a matter of fact acceptance(I was crying). 

Reeling from that discovery, Thursday, I got a call from the county jail. One of my best friends had just gotten arrested. He used me as his one call. The man has been going through a horrible divorce and his ex is a witch. She found a way to ruin his life, yet again. Angry and in protective mamma bear mode, I called his girlfriend. I called Master. I was livid that his ex was yet again able to grab him by the balls and do something like this. 

Monday: I called my mom to chat on my way to work. 

"Did you hear that your cousin had a stroke?"

WHAT?! 

"Last night, her husband called us this morning." 

My heart was racing... How could that happen? She's 36! She has five kids and a husband that need her. This is horrible. I got to work at 0700. I talked to my boss. By 0830, I was on the road north. I spent the morning at the hospital with her, her husband, and my uncle who few in from Montana overnight. 

She's alright. Thank goodness. She has a few lasting deficits which are resolving. The upside of this is that she is now getting the therapy that she needs to cope with her life and the massive responsibilities that she is always carrying.

Needless to say, I have been run ragged. Something had to be done...

I completely tapered myself off of my ADHD medication. I have been suspicious for some time that it was contributing to my anxiety (It is a stimulant, after all). This has significantly helped. I've also been very deliberate about taking time, every 2 weeks, to take time for myself: go get a manicure, a massage, something relaxing. It's starting to make a difference and I can feel the tension that has been a constant in my life beginning to unwind like a spring. 

An exciting side-effect of taking care of myself... is that each time I make a decision to prioritize my mental health, it opens up additional possibilities. 

For example, I have been going to the gym. I haven't been consistent enough to really call it a success yet, but I have noticed something that I hadn't noticed before. Last time that I tried to use exercise as a stress management technique, it made no noticeable difference. I think I was just too far gone. When you're in the middle of suicidal depression, lifestyle changes don't seem to help that much. This time, it's different. I actually feel amazing after I go to the gym. I didn't go first thing in the morning yesterday and I had a pretty crappy mood day, until I went to the gym in the evening. It completely fixed it.  

I'm feeling encouraged, for the first time in a long time. Thank you, my lovely readers, for waiting so patiently. 

Much love,
cat