So something happened yesterday that has never happened to me before.
I cried during sex. And not just a few tears. Copious sobbing, loud keening. The kind of crying I do when grieving.
It's been a difficult week for no exact reason. Or too many reasons. I'm bored to tears with work and not sure what to do about it. Boredom is dangerous for me. I make bad decisions, out of apathy, out of boredom and frustration. I procrastinate like crazy. I fail to take care of myself in little ways like eating poorly. I don't sleep well. I obsess unhelpfully. I neglect good trends like exercising more or doing art. I want to move and feel unable to do so. I am feeling trapped in my life. I am cloudy on unsticking myself.
My cat is sick - the one who just appeared in my life. It is likely fatal. She behaves like a happy, regular cat, except she can't gain weight. I fear I have fallen in love with this cat only to lose her soon. Which is better than my little girl being outside, dying alone. You never know with rescues what may happen. You never know the behavioral issues, the medical issues, the issues with no known cause or reason. I think I have accepted that this lovely cat, perfect for me and tiny dog, may not be with us for long. I think. Maybe.
So I feel trapped in my life, with a sick cat I probably can't heal.
I hate crying. It shows weakness, lack of control. It shows people what is on the inside. I have hated it for as long as I consciously remember. I especially hate crying in front of others. The idea of a 'good cry' remains deeply stupid to me, although intellectually I sort of get it. But not really. I know where this story about crying - weakness, showing emotion - comes from. From my mom. Who loves me wholeheartedly, but is stoic, as was her mother, and her grandmother, and so on. They had to be, to survive. None of them had good childhoods. My mother's was so painful she doesn't remember it. She has remarkably few memories of growing up. I don't know if this is a deliberate or not forgetting. It doesn't really matter if it is deliberate or not. But my mother survived by not crying, or showing weakness. Especially by crying in front of others . My mom's mom, my grandmother, loved me and my mother, and my father. I know this without a doubt, as I know for sure that my mother loves me. This is a great gift to know without doubt that one is loved. But my grandmother grew up in an environment that did not encourage emotional sharing. My dad cries relatively easily. (I used to weep after seeing Hallmark movie ads, when they were on broadcast TV before they became a cable channel. This I get from my dad.) This has always been true but it has become more so as he ages. I'm not sure why.
I hate crying, don't want to do it ever. Yet I sobbed my heart out during sex. I don't understand. Maybe I was grieving the cat, and the stresses of being a fucking adult. Whip and I have not had sex for about a week and had had a BDSM scene for longer than that. I was wound up with lack of sex, stress, cat worries all week. So we scene (BDSM is about sex for us), I come, and then I sob and keen uncontrollably for many minutes immediately after that. Whip to his great credit did not make me feel weird about it. It doesn't seem to be a big thing for him, once he was sure I was ok. I did feel kinda better. Released anyway. But wound up differently now. Like I have to figure something out. Hence the posting.
My psyche makes me tired...