Chucked myself into the deep end with Poly M/s and well . . .
It isnt going well.
First, some background. Bear with me, it got kinda long . . .
After my crash and burn LAST winter (the 2014 one, not the one that we just got rid of) I realized that I have really been in several committed relationships under (unbeknownst to me) false pretenses. I did not realise or recognise what I was doing, but I was trying to submit to my partners. I was giving myself to them, and they didnt know what the hell to do with it, so they failed to meet my needs. Since I didnt realise what those needs were, it was confusing, it hurt and felt like rejection, and every time, it ended on a sour note. Once I found the puzzle piece of BDSM and D/s I figured out where my head had been at and I felt kinda bad about the whole mess, but I resolved to seek out a partner in the correct pool.
The thing is, I was a mess at the time that I figured this out. I had just come off an absolute train wreck of a relationship (the freaking jerk turned out to be married, but thats a whole other story) and I decided that since one of the key elements to a healthy D/s relationship is honesty, I would be brutally honest about myself and where my head was at. I joined a couple of groups on Fet after making my profile and did some exploring. I made a couple of friends, received a few messages, but nothing that raised any flags. I even had one Dom message me saying that it was fairly clear I had things to discuss outside of BDSM, and if I wanted to, hed be happy to be an ear.
Shortly after I opened up my profile, I had a seriously scary moment in my life. My day had gone especially badly and re enforced every disparaging thought I had about myself. On my drive back home (definitely with my tail tucked firmly between my legs) I thought to myself that I would stop disappointing everyone if I just drove off the road. I have never had a suicidal thought in my life. I have always held the concept somewhat in contempt, to be honest, though now I have more sympathy for those who think about it. The fact that I had that thought, even for that smallest instant, terrified me. I got on the computer when I got home and poured my heart out in a public journal entry. I also messaged the Dom who had volunteered his ear a few days earlier. He immediately recognized that I was about to start drawing attention of the bad variety and took me into his protection.
Im not certain when, but this developed into an M/s dynamic, but with very little in-person interaction, as he lives a good 40 minutes away and I am perpetually broke and couldnt visit him often and him being in a tight budget crunch as well. He pulled me out of my tailspin. He straight-up fixed me. As soon as I had to report to him and follow his orders, my train got right back on the tracks and we established a routine of constant, open communication and a daily routine that I desperately needed. He seemed to be taking his time with me, as we had not really done much that one could call unusual yet. He decided that though I identify as a submissive, a lot of the ways I live my life indicate that there is some dominance there as well, so he wanted me to be his Alpha slave and be in charge of his other subs/slaves. To start with, he put one slave in charge of training me to be in charge. This slave is a man a good 17 years older than I, which was a BIG adjustment for me. The other big adjustment, I dont feel dominant unless I am doing something I KNOW. I am dominant at work, I am sure as hell dominant in my business, where I sell merchandise at renaissance fairs, but in BDSM? I dont know my ass from my elbow, so Im entirely submissive. Now suddenly I have to tell a man 17 years my senior exactly what to wear every day via email. I have to define a routine between the two of us and include our Sir/Master. It was tough, but I was managing it. We finally got to a point where I was comfortable with him visiting with me and we had one visit. It was informative, it was fun, it was eye opening, it was not repeated. Shortly after that visit, things took a hard turn.
The holidays came. My brothers family visited from WAY out of state and uprooted my routine badly. They decided to help my mother to begin her gutting/remodel of our only bathroom and suddenly every aspect of my routine evaporated. I could no longer complete my daily tasks, which unsettled me. As unsettled as I was, I began missing communications between myself and Sir and my.our slave (let's call him m for now) and found myself doing a lot of apologizing. Eventually my apologies began to ring hollow in my own ears, so I did less confessing of my sins. I hated admitting to Sir that I had failed him. . . And so began my latest spiral into hell. When I get stressed and/or depressed, I stop talking. I turn inward to avoid bothering people, to keep from seeing my own judgement of myself in their eyes.
Sir is one who does not like to chase after wayward subs. He has said quite clearly, despite my indications that going quit is a bad sign from me, that if he hears nothing, he will assume all is well. Well, communications continued to break down, ms work life got crazy and he dropped off of the radar entirely and without warning. I didnt hear from him for many months, despite repeated attempts to get ahold of him.
Last summer communications with m were re-established. He had sold his company and was done working and being in charge and wanted to enter into a full-time dynamic. I told him that I was still uncertain of whether I could make a good Mistress for him, but that if I couldnt I would help find one who could. I also asked him, clearly marking this as separate from our relationship, if he would be interested in extending me a business loan. He had repeatedly offered me stupid amounts of money, all of which I refused as it seemed an unhealthy way to go with the relationship, but if he could offer me a loan, with paperwork and all the bells and whistles, I could get my business running properly.
He was excitedly on board with the idea. Right down to making sure I could get a cusion for him to sit on the ground on next to me in the tent as I worked. We began crunching numbers to figure out what we were looking at. And then things went sideways again. He was diagnosed with diverticulitis and might need surgery. I then lost all contact with him until October. For all I knew, he could have been dead. When I finally got him on the phone, he said they had had to remove several feet of bowel and he would be 2-3 months recovering. He was depressed and felt like a burden on his family as he needed care and help getting around while he healed. I sternly ordered him to make an effort to keep me updated. I havent heard from him since.
Emails with Sir have fallen to the wayside as well. I feel like I am in a relationship with nobody. As it is, I want to break things off with Sir. He obviously doesnt understand my flavor of depression. He also has done one or two things I do not like. I DO like m. He has never made me uncomfortable. What he HAS done is lie to me. He said, and I quote, ‘If I am on a business trip in CHINA and you call and say, m, I need you, I will get on the next plane, But where is he? I have sent him so many messages and emails, I feel like Im talking to an empty room. I promised him I would not give up on him, but I can't keep letting men promise me their devotion and walk away. Its freaking killing me. But, cursed as I am, always see the other side. I know that he does the same shit I do. He gets stressed and/or depressed and shuts himself away. If he lived locally, or hell, even stationarily, I would drive over to his place, berate him, comfort him, and help him work through his shit. But he could be anywhere. The last time I was about to do that was in October, when I found out he was recovering at his brothers house in Florida. I don't want to break my promise, but I am starting to think I may have to.
And then there is the entirely self-serving and selfish aspect. No business loan means no shop staff to help me cope with the business. It means no new and renny appropriate tent, no workshop, no booth staff. It leaves me, with my stress/depression turning me into a useless damn deer-in-headlights staring at fair season approaching like a freaking freight train with no stock ready and orders waiting to be filled from last season. So theres a new aspect to the self recriminations. How dare I worry about the money he was going to loan me when he could still be ill?
As per usual, I have no idea what I am looking for here. Feedback? Advice? Comfort? No freaking clue. But I cant post ANY of that on Fet because I know Sir will see it. Despite the fact that he has never been judgemental or unpleasant with me, I do not want him seeing this accounting of failures on my part. So here I am, with a nice, anonymous forum of folks I can spill my guts to.
Thoughts?