MasterDoc did massage my back (isn’t he a nice Dom?) and cuddle a little, but PMDD was setting in and I felt abandoned when, my eyes closed while resting, he left me alone in the bedroom. The madness that can come with a particularly bad bout of PMDD was strong, and I started thinking… no, I started being convinced that MasterDoc was bored with me and/or no longer attracted to me. This resulted in a heavy depression on Saturday. I took a trip downtown to get my hair cut and found myself not having any impetus afterward to do anything but wander around in the rain until I could catch the next express bus. I tried to perk up in time for the party. MasterDoc was concerned about taking me out because of the depression, and unfortunately that proved founded.

All night, somehow our wires crossed and things ended up badly. I just kept longing for him to hug me, to cuddle me, to touch me and tell me everything was all right. I wanted him to play with me since it had been a little while and reestablishing that connection would feel so good to my depressed, insecure brain. On his end, he says that I put up walls and made it impossible to connect with me. I felt like he wasn’t really trying. Oy. We did connect for just long enough for him to make me come, and squirt a little, but when he became engrossed with watching another D/s couple play, I felt ignored and threatened because the other woman had a much hotter body than me. Meanwhile MasterDoc was enjoying watching the connection of the other couple because they seemed to have the sort of unspoken connection he and I so often have.

Please allow me to say, I don’t like myself when I’m depressed. I don’t like being depressed. With many people, I can hold off on getting downright hysterical, but I think because I trust MasterDoc so much I often suddenly direct any sadness and rage at him. I hate when I do this. At the time, the idea of being no longer attractive or interesting felt entirely real to me. I’m sure anyone reading this can see that it was just the PMDD.

The following morning was tearful. But thankfully I was ultimately able to realize that he wasn’t shunning me the night before (even if that’s how I felt) and I was probably putting up walls (even if I didn’t think I was) and that we love each other very much. My intense feelings of anger and sadness came out of worrying that he didn’t want me anymore.  As ridiculous as that sounds it was insanely intense.

The depression lasted the rest of the weekend, but I was able to reconnect with MasterDoc. Having him cuddle me soothed my crazy brain. He took me into the bedroom and employed playing techniques that I had been clamoring for. Like the couple we saw the prior evening, he cuffed my hands behind my back, and he used a strip of duct tape to gag me. I lay over the Liberator Axis and he gave me a good caning. My pain tolerance was lousy and I wished I could move out of the way – but with my hands behind me I couldn’t push myself up. I couldn’t even wiggle out of the way. I had to trust that he would judge the right amount of pain to induce an endorphin rush. While the caning hurt like the dickens, I think it had the right effect on my brain chemistry.

He told me to get up on hands and knees, and I mumbled through the gag that I couldn’t get on my hands with them behind my back. I was still gagged, and struggling to breathe slowly through the one clear nostril I had. (You see, if you breathe in too sharply your nasal passage narrows.) He slipped a condom on and fucked me with my arms secured behind my back. It was so worth waiting for. He fucked me long and hard. I know that phrase is totally overused but it’s the best description. He kept pounding me until I couldn’t hold back and I came. It was a magnificent orgasm, but I felt like I was suffocating and that abruptly stopped my body and compelled me to manage to move my arms around to the side just enough to rip off the duct tape. MasterDoc joked that he’s a doctor and wouldn’t let anything happen to me. If I passed out he’d be there. I know breath play can be hot but it often just makes me anxious. He understood that the anxiety was too much. He fucked me again, with my wrists released and the tape off, and that time I had every possible orgasm wrung from my body.

My depression was lifted for the entire time I was fucking and coming. Hey, how could I feel depressed mid-orgasm? (Although if it’s possible I’m sure I can do it.) After cuddles to further soothe my savage soul he had me get on top. We tried doing it with my cuffs linked but I couldn’t lean forward onto my hands and as a result my hips and thighs got such a workout that I was promptly exhausted. MasterDoc put me on the bottom, and he fucked me silly again. I’ve always loved sex with MasterDoc, but holy fuck now that he gets testosterone supplements and he’s lost some weight he can fuck harder and longer. It’s wonderfully bewildering to have a Dom in his mid-50′s fuck better than guys half his age.

I felt better having reconnected and gotten fucked. My hormones still raged and I found myself feeling teary, but thankfully I was no longer aiming my mad and sad feelings at MasterDoc. (He should be made the first Jewish saint for dealing with my anger when I’m depressed. It hurts him, even if he knows it’s just the chemical imbalance talking.) Feeling his skin pressed against me is soothing. While he can’t magically cure my PMDD, he has the capacity to make it better, even if only for a little while.

Heh. Saint MasterDoc, patron saint of wayward women. (By the way, I managed to leave out of the flow of the story that I blew him for a while, and then later in the evening I helped him come with prostate massage. So my Sir did get direct appreciation shown for him putting up with me.)

MasterDoc, the Cure for What Ails Me originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on April 25, 2011.

I spent the Monday holiday with MasterDoc, and after we went out to lunch he gave me a sybian ride. I squirted like a sprinkler all over the machine and the floor. Leading up to this, I had laid out nipple clamps, the Hitachi magic wand and my Gigi in the bedroom and gotten started without him. (Hey, I was horny!) He put the clamps on my nipples and led me into the living room where he had set up the sybian. He also grabbed the riding crop to swat my ass while he gave me the ride.

It is delicious how he teases me by varying the speed of the vibration. He tugged on the nipple clamps (one of which didn’t want to stay put) and spanked me with the crop. As I said before, when I came I squirted. I had to clean up the machine and the carpet afterward.

DeeDee was due home that evening, and he made it clear that I would not be the focus of our play that night, and I understood that. DeeDee hadn’t seen him since Friday morning. The three of us hung out watching t.v. for a bit after dinner, and I stumbled upon a Lady Gaga fest on Fuse. When MasterDoc decided it was time to head to the bedroom, I semi-seriously said, “But Gaga is on!” He said that’s fine, I can watch it. Seeing my chance at sex as slipping away, I said, “But this could go on for hours! I don’t have to watch it.” He pointed out that I should enjoy myself and watch for the next half hour or so, until whatever segment was over.

I was a bit inebriated that evening, and I started to wonder if he wanted time alone with DeeDee. In theory there’s nothing wrong with this, but since a threesome had been implied, I felt left out being left in the living room watching Gaga videos (amid many commercials). I somehow in my muddled mind started to think that I was being left out for the whole evening. I debated back and forth – would he really do that? Well as a good sub I should respect that and do my best to enjoy my evening in the living room. But I felt really left out and sad. I felt rejected. I felt like I was being punished for something.

I went to the bathroom at one point and he came to check on me. During our brief conversation I got the impression that he did want me to stay in the living room. But he also said something about coming in. I peeked in the bedroom after I left the loo and they were intensely close and I worried that I’d be barging in. I thought I had misinterpreted him. I went back to the living room.

I lay sadly on the sofa, watching t.v. and clutching the stuffed dog one of his other girlfriends had given him (who I’ve taken a liking to and named Brian after the dog on Family Guy). MasterDoc and DeeDee came out at one point and said they were going to set up the air conditioner in DeeDee’s room. Ok. It’s a good thing because the evening was hot, but I thought to myself (incorrectly), “Well that’s the end of that. No sex for me.”

After the a/c was in, MasterDoc sat on the sofa next to me and reached over to part my legs. He started playing with my cunt and I was confused – was he doing this because I seemed upset at the lack of attention? Was I taking attention away from DeeDee and being a selfish little bitch in a way? Should I enjoy what he was doing and orgasm? The night wasn’t supposed to be about me.  I felt guilty for feeling so upset over being left out. He managed to wrench a hard orgasm out of me despite my terrible mindset. I was feeling bewildered.

Now, reading this you know that I had misunderstood. But at the time I didn’t know this, and I was really ruminating over it all. MasterDoc decided to have me join them, and I thought, “Oh hey, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’ll be included now.” But then I went back to my original theory when it turned out I was invited in to teach DeeDee the touching technique I’ve learned that turns MasterDoc on. And so my inebriated brain thought, “Great, I’m just coming in to improve their sex life.”

I struggled all night to be a “good” submissive and accept things as they came. For a while I did get into touching MasterDoc and I was able to stop feeling depressed and truly enjoy myself. (It is amazing being able to make your Dom twitch from your touch.) I taught DeeDee some of the technique and MasterDoc was a very happy man having us both massage his inner thighs.

DeeDee headed off again (the reason why escapes me) and MasterDoc asked if I wanted to get fucked. I went for it since it had been nearly a week since I had his cock in me, but with all my neuroses hard at work I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy it. He could see I was distressed in some way, checked in with me, and I was worried that he’d go off to DeeDee’s room right after fucking me, leaving me alone without aftercare. He made it clear that I was supposed to enjoy myself and that I would get cuddles after. So I did let go and come hard when he fucked me, but my brain still was chugging along the wrong track.

He slept with DeeDee that night, which I knew about ahead of time. As I lay in bed trying to sleep (I had work in the morning) I could hear DeeDee coming even through the earplugs I wear to bed. This just fueled my distressed mind. I had a hard time falling asleep and was completely miserable.

I spent the next morning filled with angst. I laid into MasterDoc when I ran into him online during the day. Poor guy didn’t know what I was going on about. By this time my insecurity had been thoroughly tapped into and pain and sadness flowed from me. It was a hellish day at work.

But when I got back to MasterDoc’s that evening, he and I talked. I broke down and got a little hysterical after explaining to him that part of expressing myself to me is letting the emotions show (he always tries to get me to talk calmly, without raising my voice). He’s far more rational and thick-skinned than me, so my reactions put him off. I’m very emotional. I’ve worked for years on becoming more rational, and I’ve improved, but sometimes my emotions take over. I expressed how truly painful the incident on Sunday with my toys on the floor had been for me – I know it’s something he wouldn’t have a second thought about. He’s not bothered by things like that. But for me it triggers something deep.

I cried. I was angry. I was sad. I was unfortunately bitchy. I jabbed with words, which I’m unfortunately good at. The feeling that I really need more sex and need to see more people overwhelmed me. I’m not sure that was really the deep-seated issue at hand, but it’s something that came out. He is open to me playing with others, etc. Now I need to get off my ass and meet other potential partners. After the discussion was over, I was left feeling terrible because I had truly made him hurt. He’s not hyper-expressive like I am, but I could see in his eyes that I really hurt him.

I’ve been feeling bad about it since, although I know that you can’t take back words, but you can try to be different going forward. I’m going to focus more on complimenting him and less on criticizing. Really, in so many ways I’m over the moon with him. He really can make me happy. I should de-emphasize the negative and as Louis Armstrong sang, “Acc-cent-choo-ate the positive.” I plan to be with him for a very long time.

When I get an occasional email on Facebook saying what a lucky man MasterDoc is to have me, I think about these times when I’m overemotional, or depressed, and I think that I’m very much the lucky one.

Misunderstandings Suck originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on June 3, 2010.

Yesterday was one of those days. I seem to be having more of them than usual lately. I plan to talk to my shrink about medication, because perhaps the regimen I’ve been on for a few years now isn’t working as well.

In a fit of pique, I declared on twitter that I was giving up sex. I’m sure people reading that knew it wouldn’t stick. By the time the day was over I had sex with MasterDoc (entirely of my choosing) and orgasms helped settle me. We’re working on ways to help head off these bouts via beatings (endorphins help), medication, orgasms, and anything else that might help level off or lift my mood. Unfortunately I was a teary, angry mess yesterday before things could be headed off. When I started to gain perspective on the situation (“Oh, I see! This is depression speaking and making everything seem so irreparably terrible!”) cuddles helped a great deal. I cried a lot, started getting depressed about having been depressed (not to mention having been so harsh to MasterDoc). MasterDoc and I laughed about that a bit – the whole getting depressed because I get depressed. It’s silly I know, but I do feel terrible guilt for being difficult when I’m depressed.

I appreciate all the support from my twitter and facebook friends as I rode through the turmoil yesterday. It’s wonderful that people I don’t even really know will offer words of encouragement and support.

That’s why I didn’t get around to blogging about my Sunday evening in with MasterDoc. It was a bumpy night in a way – there was sex, a break, MasterDoc not really feeling like doing a lot but meanwhile I was craving a long night of hard, rough sex. (Been watching too much rough sex porn lately.) He decided that he wanted to come, and we played with ourselves while watching porn. He was going to come on me but the spurts didn’t quite make it to my hip that was laying beside him. I used the magic wand on myself and thankfully MasterDoc gave me a little of what I was craving then. Hand on throat, slapped thighs, I begged him to hurt me. The roughness made me come so much harder than I would have with the magic wand alone.

I can’t wait to try more rough stuff with him.

Mood Swings originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on February 16, 2010.

I’m leaving out the many bits that added up and led to this but I ended up crying hysterically (yes, truly hysterically. I was gasping for air because I was crying so hard) at MasterDoc’s and being totally contrary, depressed and angry for the better part of the day. Bless MasterDoc’s patience. He did all he could to try to shake me out of it but I was unshakable for much of the day. He tried caning, which just pissed me off. *chuckle* He tried a firm hand, taking control, telling me to get my collar and get up and do some chores. That didn’t work. I was so weighted down with depression that I couldn’t move. I really couldn’t move. And when I finally got up to go use the bathroom I struggled to get to my feet and amble down the hall. It was a feeling much like when you’re heavily sick with flu and you feel like you’re moving through molasses.

But he kept at it, kept talking to me. Kept trying to reason with me through my tears. (He’s nothing if not a reasonable, rational man.) Eventually the core was reached – I don’t think I’m worthy of being loved. All the rest is window dressing for this one core truth. Sure there are times when I’m not depressed when I feel worthwhile, but depression makes me feel utterly useless and unlovable. I’ve struggled with this since late childhood.

Sometimes via writing this blog I get people telling me I’m sexy, exciting, wonderful, attractive, etc. At those times the little low self-esteem voice in my head quotes the following bit from a Neil Finn song, Truth:

“They have showered me with riches /and they say that I am worthy of their love and their attention/ but they still don’t know the truth.”

I figure why believe someone who only knows me through the blog? Even though I am extremely candid here someone still can’t know me entirely with all my foibles and full-on flaws. I can’t accept compliments. Not really. I grew up thinking that if I felt good about myself then I was being egotistical and that I should always know my flaws and work on them. (Maybe this is a residual Catholic thing?) When I started coming out of the depression on Saturday, started being more reasonable at least, MasterDoc listed a bunch of things he likes about me; and I didn’t recognize the person he described. I didn’t think it could be me. But at the same time it felt so good to be told I’m loved and wanted.

As I was slowly recovering emotionally, I had a revelation. I finally understood age play. I had always been among the camp of “that makes me really uncomfortable but I won’t interfere with two consenting adults playing how they want to play.” But jeez, Saturday night I wanted nothing more than to be taken care of like a little child. I wanted to abdicate all responsibility. I wanted to be told when to brush my teeth and go to bed. I wanted to be held and petted and told I’m loved. It was a struggle for me to do tasks MasterDoc asked me to do, having any responsibility felt like too much for me to handle. I really felt like I needed to be taken care of. I did get petting from MasterDoc and told that I’m loved, but I didn’t get the full level of being controlled and taken care of. Oh well. That’s not what our relationship is like.

By the next day I was feeling calmer and no longer suicidal. I’ve struggled with dips into depression this week but have ultimately ended the week on a stable note. Wednesday night, while MasterDoc caned me, he made me repeat after him, “I am incredibly lovable.” He made me say it a few times and made me promise that I would remember that. We talked a little about how I came to feel this way when I was young, and having a mother who was moody and wildly unpredictable had a lot to do with it – i.e., one day I’d say “good morning” and she’d be loving and we’d bake cookies, but another morning I’d say the same exact thing in the same exact way and she’d bite my head off. As MasterDoc and I talked, he asked if I had ever tried to diagnose my mother. (I have an educational background in psychology.) I haven’t really, but immediately I said that she must suffer from depression like I do. And MasterDoc wondered aloud if I ever realized that these issues were my mother’s own or if I internalized them and blamed myself. And you know, until last night, at age 37, I never had the thought that these issues were my mother’s, and not my fault. I blamed myself from a young age. I thought that I made her mad or sad.

Somehow, I forget how, he came up with the idea of a time out next time I snap at him – time facing the corner to cool down and think. I think it’s interesting how a lot of what I’m getting out of our relationship in recent weeks is sorta parenting my inner child on things I missed out on when I actually was a child. I don’t doubt that my submission has some roots in wanting to be loved and pleasing. I think it could be really healing to try to please someone who is capable of being pleased for a change.

MasterDoc continued to say wonderful things to me all evening, working on bolstering my self-esteem. I’m trying to figure out how to accept the compliments. He feels a little offended that, in a way, I should think so little of his opinion of me as to not believe it. But it’s not that his opinion is off, it’s that I just can’t think about myself rationally sometimes.

We did eventually have sex, and while I came hard as always (rowr!) I was slow to warm up by that time as he bounced between watching porn on the computer and watching basketball on tv. I had been ready for fooling around after the caning but the sex didn’t come til much later. I didn’t complain, and he pointed out that I’m patient. He fucked me, and the ensuing hard orgasm helped my already improving mood. As we watched an assfucking porn afterward, I told him that it made me want to be fucked up the ass. And yes, he fucked me up the ass then. Very hot. I lay back after each fucking and felt utterly content.

He jerked off to come, and came in my mouth again. I sucked his cock while holding the come in my mouth and gleefully dribbled it out when he told me to. I think this is my current fetish. I hope that he’ll have me rub it over my breasts or something next time.

So as I head into the new year, I seem to be dealing with a bout of depression. Hopefully I will manage to work through it like I always have in the past. Having a loving Dom will certainly help. Having a loving Davey will help too, but I think part of me needs a bit of a challenge when it comes to being loved. I feel like I need to earn it, and Davey loves me virtually unconditionally. Not that MasterDoc doesn’t, but he criticizes constructively and gets me working on improving. I think I need to prove to myself that I have earned the love I receive.

The Depression and Insecurity Struggle originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on January 1, 2010.

I’m worn out this evening from the tears. I really do a bang up job of making myself unhappy. I was so utterly and completely miserable. I can’t believe that earlier today I was considering walking out of MasterDoc’s place and going home for good. A better indication of how this was depression rather than what I truly wanted is that I couldn’t picture doing anything other than committing suicide if I walked out of there. I pictured going home and putting my head in the oven. (Goes back to the old affinity I had for Sylvia Plath as a depressed teenager.) I felt horrible. I felt horribly unhappy. I only focused on the imperfect things and forgot the wonderful (perfect even!) facets of my relationship with him. I got extremely morbid and started figuring out that I have enough money in my bank accounts to finish off any outstanding medical bills and cover a funeral for me. I saw no future other than a dark tunnel and death.

I need to spend more time thinking about this baby issue, but thinking about how my life would change if I did it, rather than the idealized fantasy. Life is not one big idealized fantasy. I espouse polyamory virtues right and left but then I find myself thinking that I need to have one relationship meet all my needs. I have more than one relationship of value in my life. I need to start focusing on that. I think I need to deprogram society’s monogamous ideal from my head even more. I can’t see myself not being with Davey or MasterDoc. Why on earth do I feel that I need to focus on one relationship? When I was monogamous, I was never quite happy that I couldn’t explore things with other people.

The sad part is that I may be making up things to be unhappy about. I may be dwelling on things I don’t even want in reality.

Mid-30′s Crisis originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on November 17, 2009.

I want to talk today about clinical depression. There’s still enough of a stigma against it that it can be terrifying to be openly depressed (or suffer from any other mental illness). While I did have a lot of nice people send tweets of support, I still felt afraid that I’d be perceived as “crazy” and therefore undesirable. (I also worry that people like the guy who assaulted me will use it against me to dismiss my claims of being assaulted.) Granted, being depressed adds to this feeling of being lesser – it’s part of the issue in the first place. When I’m depressed I feel overwhelmingly sad, overwhelmingly bad about myself (I kept thinking that I’m too much trouble and that MasterDoc and Davey would be better off without me), and I feel guilty asking for help. MasterDoc was spending the weekend at DeeDee’s for the first time, and last thing I wanted to do was ruin his or her weekend. When depressed, I don’t have energy to do much, and I don’t get pleasure out of much either. I felt so depressed yesterday afternoon that I actually told MasterDoc that I didn’t have any interest in sex right then. (Yes, I know, can you imagine??)

But I really needed to seek help. Part of the complexity of depression is that you withdraw, you think you’re not worth helping right at the time you need help the most. And I have to say that it is definitely an illness – I couldn’t  control my dark mood any more than I could control my gall stone attack a few weeks ago. When it comes to physical ailments, we shuffle people off to the doctor or emergency room right away for treatment, even if it’s just to reduce the pain via painkillers. But with mental illness people often look the other way – they don’t want to embarrass the person who’s depressed and since curing depression isn’t as easy as a shot of painkiller (wish it was) they feel helpless. So they give the person space. But if we treated other ailments that way it would seem crazy, wouldn’t it? To ignore a gall stone attack while it’s put someone in agonizing pain seems absurd, but ignoring a bout of depression which has similarly put the subject in pain is not unusual.

While I’m depressed and pushing people away, I’m also hoping that someone will ignore my pushes and come in and take care of me. I want nothing more than to be reassured that I’m not worthless. As the depression lifts, I can see that my thinking has been irrational and was caused by being mentally ill but in the midst of it it’s practically impossible to see. And it hurts. Being depressed hurts. Maybe not in the same morphine-fixable way that gall stone pain does, but it’s an agonizing emotional pain.

When dealing with someone who’s mentally ill, please don’t ever tell them to just “cheer up.” My friend and I were laughing about this yesterday. “Haha, yeah I hate when people think that’s gonna help. “OMG, I hadn’t thought of that! ‘Just feel better’ – You’re a genius!” she said. I agreed that it’s just as hard to will the pain of mental illness away as it is to will the pain of my gall stones away. (Or will away cancer, or a heart attack.) “Exactly! Its miraculous! I can feel better whenever I want, and I CHOOSE to be miserable like this! -facepalm- “ It really helps to talk with someone who understands. I do not choose to be depressed. I cannot just make it go away. I do take medication for it but medication is imperfect. It feels lousy to be mentally ill – the longer I live with it the more I see it as an illness just like any physical one. It has an onset, I feel really unwell for a while, and then gradually it improves and goes away.

But even though I’ve long been open about my depression (I think we need to be open to get rid of the stupid stigma) when I’m actually depressed I stigmatize myself. I’ve been understanding that since I sprained my wrist late last week that I have to coddle it and rely more on my other arm. But I’ve been much less understanding that I need to coddle my psyche and lean on MasterDoc’s mind for a while. As a submissive, I feel it’s my job to take care and to not be any work. It’s hard for me to truly let my defenses down and let someone in to the whack-a-doodle shit going on in my brain. I wrote a blog entry offline to work on expressing my feelings. I only just showed it to MasterDoc and I doubt I’ll post it here. He didn’t think it sounds as crazy as I thought it did. It’s scary to do so though, because even in the midst of it you know it’s disordered thinking and sharing it with someone is terrifying. You become a prisoner in your own mind. Reaching out to connect with someone else is often the biggest help, but the hardest thing to do.

I’m not 100% back to normal as of yet. But the fog has lifted somewhat, and I’ve managed to open up to help and support from people around me finally.

Depression originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on September 22, 2009.

After 24 hours or so of crying, agony, and talking with MasterDoc, the issue managed to subside. Somehow he phrased things differently when we spoke on Saturday night than he had when we spoke on Friday night. And I came to realize that he loves me. He really does. And that my not moving in with him might not be entirely personal – he has various reasons for it. Some of the reasons are personal, and I will get to them in a minute.

Through all this talking also came up the fact that while focusing on MasterDoc I’ve really given Davey short shrift. I haven’t focused on my relationship with him in a while and that’s not fair – and not terribly poly of me. I really hurt Davey recently when I mentioned wanting to go live with MasterDoc rather than him. It seemed like I was intent on pinning down MasterDoc for a monogamous relationship and abandoning Davey and that’s not really something I want. I need to stop treating Davey like shit and start realizing how lucky I am to have two wonderful men in my life. They’re very different from each other, but both love me a great deal. Somehow I had forgotten exactly what polyamory was about – loving, genuinely loving, more than one person. I need to find a balance, and maybe then I can start working on the issues in my relationships with MasterDoc and Davey.

I have issues with jealousy, possessiveness and insecurity. These are ugly things and it doesn’t feel good to admit to them. I’m better able to be happy for Davey when he’s spent time with someone new who he likes, much less so with MasterDoc. Clearly, I’m more secure in my relationship with Davey. (Um, I could really be accused of taking him for granted.) But of course if I want poly to work (and I want to date other people myself) then I need to learn how to deal with these issues. Long ago I decided I didn’t like one of the other women who MasterDoc dates. Now I had met her once or twice and we didn’t really click, but the dislike came from something totally else – I felt threatened that maybe she wanted MasterDoc all to herself. I felt threatened that she would take him away from me some day. I’ve nursed this dislike along, rather than dealing with the real issue and it’s something that’s done nothing but make me unhappy and make MasterDoc unhappy.

It’s time for me to learn to deal with my insecurity. Insecurity is at the root of all my jealousy and possessiveness issues. I feel like I’m not good enough and so the person I love will decide to leave me for someone “better.” I act all clingy and jealous as a result and no one’s happy in the end. MasterDoc is very much a polyamorous person. It’s his true nature. He enjoys spending time with many women, and loving more than one at a time. I have to deal with this. I have to find a way to not feel insecure and to genuinely feel happy for him that he’s seeing someone cool and different. Polyamorists generally call this feeling compersion. But as long as I’m wallowing in jealousy, possessiveness and insecurity I feel nothing but miserable when he spends time with someone new. I’ve come to terms with him sometimes spending weekends with the woman I decided I didn’t like (disliking her rather unfairly as you can see) but when someone new comes along I freak out. A few weeks back when I was dealing with all sorts of issues that put my pussy out of commission, MasterDoc had the chance to invite over a woman who he had met at a couple of parties. I was so bent out of shape over this. I was angry because I hadn’t been able to have sex in a week, we had to cancel Dark Odyssey, and dammit, I wanted to have fun. And also, I worried, what if she’s a better submissive than I am? What if he falls in love with her? Will he leave me?

These little freakouts wind up making me miserable and MasterDoc pretty unhappy as well. I need to learn to deal with these feelings and to be more confident in myself (i.e., he loves me and isn’t going to leave me just because he has a nice time with some other nice woman). I need to learn to identify my jealousy and insecurity so I can deal with these feelings rather than freaking out, or trying to put limits on what MasterDoc can do (not going to happen!). He pointed out that there’s no way I could live with him as long as I have these issues running rampant. What if I came home and he was fucking another woman on the living room floor? Would I deal with it well and just say, “Hey have fun!” and go amuse myself off in the bedroom for a while? (Heh, I think I’d be more likely to see if I could join in, but anyway…) Or will I have a hissy fit and feel terribly inadequate and insecure? MasterDoc is going to fuck other women. He is going to date other women. This is a fact of being with him. If I lived with him and he decided to invite over that woman I’ve decided to dislike, what would I do? Would I graciously leave them to enjoy time together while I found other things to occupy my time? At this point in my life that is highly doubtful. How on earth could I ever live with him while I react like this?

So I’m determined to do a few things. I’m determined to learn to identify my jealousy and deal with it appropriately. (It will certainly take some trial and error.) I want to try to learn how to feel compersion. After all, I want my partners to feel good when I’ve had a nice time with someone else. It will make both myself and my partners happy if I can feel ok with them spending loving time with others, and hell, I want to be happy, not miserable. I’m going to try to get over my irrationally intense dislike of this other woman. I may never become best buddies with her, but I aim to feel neutral about her and her spending time with MasterDoc. I’m going to try to pay more attention to issues I’m having with Davey rather than giving up (MasterDoc has decided to intervene and try to do what he can to help). All this is a mountain of hard work, but god, if I want these men in my life I need to learn to be a better person. If I want to be poly, and I do, I need to learn that my partners being happy is cause for me to be happy, even if I’m not the one making them happy at that point in time. This will take time. In the meanwhile I’m going to do what any good librarian does and research the topic of polyamory and jealousy. I’ve dug out The Ethical Slut: A Guide to Infinite Sexual Possibilities and re-read the chapter on jealousy. I’m going to look through Tristan Taormino’s Opening Up: A Guide to Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships for more advice. And I’m going to talk to other poly people I know to see how they deal with these things. I want my relationships to work. I need to get to working on them.

Struggling with Polyamory originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on March 23, 2009.

We made up that night, however, and both apologized for our part in the scenario. He also calmly explained the circumstances that came up that prevented him from calling me. While I can get emotional and irrational for periods of time, ultimately I’m a rational person (once I calm down). The main reasons for him not calling were that his phone died on him and his tub accidentally overflowed to the point where he had to worry the downstairs neighbors were going to come banging on his door. He had a crisis that had to be dealt with immediately, and he didn’t get my calls because his phone was out of power and had to recharge. As I said, extenuating circumstances.

I felt, and still feel to some extent, rotten for hurting him by going so far as to say I nearly didn’t want to see him again. It was a ridiculous thing to say as he means so much to me. I can’t picture my life without him. I was angry, insecure and not thinking clearly. I overreacted. I regret what I said.

Thankfully, as I mentioned before we talked and worked things out. I hope I never manage to go off the rails like that again, but I know I’m prone to such outbursts when feeling insecure. For some reason I’m really insecure where MasterDoc’s concerned. I don’t get that way with Davey or D.S. I’m all happy, poly, “go have fun sweetie” with them. This is definitely something to think about and try to figure out. I don’t like being an insecure nutcase – ever. It’s not a happy place to be.

We did have sex on Sunday, but MasterDoc decided to make it low key. I begged him to let me come while he was fucking me on top, and he said no. I accepted this as I knew I had upset him the night before. I didn’t think he was going to let me come at all that day. A little while later he had me get on top. Again I got all worked up and on the edge of coming and this time, without my asking, he suddenly told me, “You can come now.” And the fantastic thing is I did come right then, as soon as he gave me permission. It was amazing to have a hair trigger response like that. Maybe my working on riding the edge while masturbating is working. One can only hope.

I feel relieved that things are sorted out with MasterDoc. I wish I could take back what I said on Saturday night, but the best I can do is apologize and not do it again.

Off the Rails originally appeared on Diary of a Kinky Librarian on June 2, 2008.