At first, my Dom and I were doing D/s because we liked it.
Mostly, because I liked the sound of the lifestyle and wanted something similar to what I read about. I was afraid of it and drawn to it at the same time. But in the end, we did it "just because." Because we wanted to. Because we liked it. Because it was one way we could fulfill Ephesians 5. Because he wanted a male-led relationship and I wanted to be conquered.
But this month, it has been proved to me that maybe we needed D/s. When a crisis happened, we already had the framework in place for him to lead me and for me to follow.
What crisis?
I've mentioned before that I've struggled with anxiety and depression in my past. Generally, these days it's managable and I know the symptoms and coping mechanisms. I also know where to go for help and what medications work for me and the many, many medications I've tried that do not work for me.
But earlier this month, I had a really bad time. My anxiety disorder reared its head without warning and made my life--and our lives--miserable.
I started having debilitating panic attacks. When I slept, it was filled with nightmares so terrible I'd wake up shivering and shaking for the next 2 hours. The nightmares got so horrible that I started being afraid to fall asleep. I started keeping myself awake. I got sleep deprived. This made me more emotional and less able to be rational about the anxiety I was having. I stopped eating. Food tasted like sawdust. I forced myself to eat, bite by painful bite, because I needed the nutrition for the baby, but I could barely make myself eat a few bites. I got so afraid of the panic attacks and nightmares I was having at night, that simply seeing the daylight turn to afternoon and then dusk made me start having panic attacks. At night, I stayed awake with the lights on and tv blaring to try to trick my brain into thinking "it's not night" and to get an hour of sleep. Still, I was only getting 1-2 hours a night. I got so sleep deprived that I got incoherent. I couldn't remember which medications I'd taken. I couldn't remember which name of a medication meant what. I can remember staring at a handful of 8 pills, not sure which ones were which, not sure if I'd taken any yet or if these were even the right ones, and asking my mother, "Are these the right pills?!!?" For a few days, I took pills only when given to me by someone else to make sure I wasn't accidentally overdosing myself. My parents, who are divorced and don't particularly like each other, both stayed over at our house for 2-3 nights. They sat in bed with me and my husband, all three of them watching helplessly and trying to console me, as I shook uncontrollably and rambled on about all the terrible things that I was terrified would happen. I had a feeling of dread racing through my body so badly that my feet cramped up and I felt sick to my stomach. My parents and husband took 3-hour shifts all night to stay up with me and hold my hand while I shook in terror or tried to sleep only to fight it off again. My husband forced me to take an Ambien and held me down in the bed while I tried to get up in my terror, until finally the drug took effect and I fell into a medication-induced sleep. My terror and panic would go away for a few hours during the afternoon, only to come back at night so badly that all I could do was pray aloud in snatches.
In other words, it was very, very bad.
When I was unable to function for a few days, D/s was not kinky or sexy or fun. It was simply the way things were. My Dom made decisions for me because I could not make them for myself. I was too scared to make decisions. I leaned on him to make every decision for me and for us, big or small. What did I want to eat? I didn't know. I didn't want anything. I would look to my Dom and he would tell the person what to bring me to eat. Should I take a pill and get some sleep? Every bone in my body screamed "No!", but it was my Dom who fed it to me anyway, me crying and begging him not to, and then pushed me down onto the bed until I finally, finally fell asleep. Are you guys staying for dinner? I felt guilty and like I should, but I didn't want to. It was my Dom who said No, I am taking her home and she's going to rest. It offended some family members who were visiting, but he did it anyway.
Should I make an appointment with a counselor? Was the baby going to die in her sleep? Am I going crazy? What should I wear? Big and small, he answered these questions for me when I was simply too stressed and exhausted to answer them myself. I didn't have the energy to deal with making decisions.
If we hadn't worked hard at implementing D/s for years before this, I couldn't have trusted him to make those decisions for me. It would have made a terrible week that much more terrible. But I've had practice giving in to him and leaning on him. I was able to let him make decisions for us in that time. I honestly believe it is (one reason at least) why God led us to D/s in the first place.
Finally, with prayer and time, I managed to get some sleep. Panic subsided into mere anxiety. I'm still anxious. I'm talking to my doctor about it, and planning to start counseling, to help me deal with it productively. Most days I feel fine. When I do feel anxious, I can handle it now. I'm going to be okay.
But I'm thankful we had D/s. So that when something bad happened, the framework was already in place for him to step up and lead our family.
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