Sometimes I'm just not that good at kink
Or I'm just not up to it. That may be a more accurate take.
I was at a party on Saturday with a bunch of people I generally get along with well. Things started off fine. Then took a turn for the worse in short order.
Part of it was probably related to coming down from a recent high. On Friday I did 2,442 pushups as part of a running campaign to raise money to fight depression. I felt accomplished and useful, and people were telling me I was inspiring. The next day there was a story about me in the local paper. All in all it was a positive experience in fighting off the gloom, but inevitably there is a come down from the high. The endorphins run out, fatigue sets in, I'm no longer doing pushups at lunchtime in a crowded town square, and the problems I had before are still there. (I'm starting to think they may always be there, and it may be a matter of managing them.)
The crash came at the party. A friend asked me if I would make tea, which I have done in the past and am generally happy to do. I found the tea, but it wasn't like any tea I had ever seen before. It looked like partially caramelised sugar. Not knowing anything about it, how much to use, or how to prepare it, and having nobody around and available who did know, I froze in a moment of fatigue/tea related mental paralysis.
A little while with no tea forthcoming, the comment was made that I had a lot to learn if I wanted to be a "tea bitch". And that set me off for a further crash. I'm fine at making tea in general, but if I was going to be asked to make some bizarre kind of tea I had never seen or heard of before, I would have thought that special advice would have been given. Besides, I never claimed to want that title. I was just trying to help and felt as though my willingness to do so was being mocked.
Then, as Sekoma was talking to me having noticed my declining mood and harried mental state, came the final straw. It was Madam's birthday, and a guy who was the semi-official photographer came by and said I was expected in another room immediately. Except he didn't say it like that. He said "Insert my name here. The next room. Now."
I didn't take kindly to that.
My reply was a seething "what?"
He repeated himself, and pointed out that it wouldn't be a good idea to disappoint the birthday girl.
If I was the kind of guy who punched guys, I would have punched the guy. With a snarl on my face I said I wasn't going anywhere regardless of who was disappointed. His rejoinder of "oh come on" was met with a "do I look like I'm f*cking kidding?" on my part.
It pissed me off to be spoken to like that. I had very little mental bandwidth left at that point and soon found myself outside feeling detached with a thousand yard stare on my face.
The thing is, my tea related friend was understanding about what had happened and we had a nice long chat later on about my mental state. Madam also understood that I wasn't up for the kind of play we had enjoyed the previous weekend. I went to the party intending to give her a birthday gift of a body to smack things with, and it turned out I wasn't able to follow through. I did feel bad about that. The realisation crossed my mind that sometimes I'm just not up to getting into kinky shenanigans. Sometimes I can't make the tea. Sometimes I can't take a beating. And sometimes, maybe I'm just not up to being as dignified a subbie as I would like.
I was at a party on Saturday with a bunch of people I generally get along with well. Things started off fine. Then took a turn for the worse in short order.
Part of it was probably related to coming down from a recent high. On Friday I did 2,442 pushups as part of a running campaign to raise money to fight depression. I felt accomplished and useful, and people were telling me I was inspiring. The next day there was a story about me in the local paper. All in all it was a positive experience in fighting off the gloom, but inevitably there is a come down from the high. The endorphins run out, fatigue sets in, I'm no longer doing pushups at lunchtime in a crowded town square, and the problems I had before are still there. (I'm starting to think they may always be there, and it may be a matter of managing them.)
The crash came at the party. A friend asked me if I would make tea, which I have done in the past and am generally happy to do. I found the tea, but it wasn't like any tea I had ever seen before. It looked like partially caramelised sugar. Not knowing anything about it, how much to use, or how to prepare it, and having nobody around and available who did know, I froze in a moment of fatigue/tea related mental paralysis.
A little while with no tea forthcoming, the comment was made that I had a lot to learn if I wanted to be a "tea bitch". And that set me off for a further crash. I'm fine at making tea in general, but if I was going to be asked to make some bizarre kind of tea I had never seen or heard of before, I would have thought that special advice would have been given. Besides, I never claimed to want that title. I was just trying to help and felt as though my willingness to do so was being mocked.
Then, as Sekoma was talking to me having noticed my declining mood and harried mental state, came the final straw. It was Madam's birthday, and a guy who was the semi-official photographer came by and said I was expected in another room immediately. Except he didn't say it like that. He said "Insert my name here. The next room. Now."
I didn't take kindly to that.
My reply was a seething "what?"
He repeated himself, and pointed out that it wouldn't be a good idea to disappoint the birthday girl.
If I was the kind of guy who punched guys, I would have punched the guy. With a snarl on my face I said I wasn't going anywhere regardless of who was disappointed. His rejoinder of "oh come on" was met with a "do I look like I'm f*cking kidding?" on my part.
It pissed me off to be spoken to like that. I had very little mental bandwidth left at that point and soon found myself outside feeling detached with a thousand yard stare on my face.
The thing is, my tea related friend was understanding about what had happened and we had a nice long chat later on about my mental state. Madam also understood that I wasn't up for the kind of play we had enjoyed the previous weekend. I went to the party intending to give her a birthday gift of a body to smack things with, and it turned out I wasn't able to follow through. I did feel bad about that. The realisation crossed my mind that sometimes I'm just not up to getting into kinky shenanigans. Sometimes I can't make the tea. Sometimes I can't take a beating. And sometimes, maybe I'm just not up to being as dignified a subbie as I would like.