Once upon a time, Sam and Ella had a nice little vacation planned. Nothing fancy - just a road trip to a neighboring state. Plenty of time to talk and laugh and enjoy each other. Not even think about work for 5 days! Eating out, no housework, sight-seeing, fooling around, shooting - rifle and pistol, taking photos, maybe several quiet spankings, no phones, a good book, lying by the pool drinking beer. Life was gonna be sweet!
Alas, it was not to be. Just a few days before our trip, I got the worst case of food poisoning I have ever had. It would be really easy to roll into Too Much Information at this point, but I promise not to go there. Suffice to say I had to call to Sam in the middle of the night because I started to feel very light-headed and thought I was going to faint. It was a long, long night. By morning it was evident there were complications, and by afternoon, I ended up in
the hospital Emergency Room until they could get me stabilized. Before I was released, the doctor said he was scheduling a colonoscopy ASAP and that he didn't want me leaving town for several weeks.
Got a list of what I could eat and what was forbidden. Got a lot of extra sleep. Soon I was feeling totally myself again. Sam cancelled our trip and took care of all the details online. I thought I was OK with this, but by Saturday I slipped into a deep dark funk, and I just couldn't seem to shake it. In fact to be totally honest, I didn't want to. It was a great big pity party, and by evening the tears started, and I just pulled away completely. First, Sam tried to cheer me up, then he talked more sternly about not slipping into this melancholy. Finally, he gave up.
There were several times before ttwd where I would slip into depression and not be able to climb back out. It could go on for weeks or even months. Sam would do anything and everything to make me feel loved and cared for, but it didn't usually help. Since we began ttwd more than 2 years ago, I have noticed that depression doesn't gain an upper hand anymore. A spanking will usually bring my mood back to center. Sam has noticed this, too, and has commented that he will never let me slip away from him again. That always makes me feel safe.
It's still not easy for him. So by Saturday night, I was physically feeling fine, and Sam did not need to be concerned that I was still sick. But he still has trouble stepping up as HOH when I am sad. Can wallop the hell out of me when I am bitchy or lose my temper! He doesn't blink an eye. But sadness and tears just confuse him.
It was bad and I soon realized that what I needed was Sam to say, "No, you will not do this," and back it up with a good long spanking. But he did not and did not and did not. By then I thought, "He does not care." Could not even think of asking him. Felt all wrong. So that night I never read. I never talked. I never watched a movie. I just curled up in a big sad ball on the bed.
It wasn't until Sunday morning that Sam took my hand and we went back to the bedroom. He already had 2 implements setting on the bed. It was a godawful spanking. I even cried, which hardly ever happens. It all came pouring out. And finally the "Click" came and I was back. Sam held me for so long, and it felt so good. I felt safe again.
A day later we talked about what had happened. Sam said he knew he had waited too long, and I explained what he could do to help me when I get that way again. The connection between us was back, and we both knew it.
It is difficult to be frank with all of you in this post. I feel slightly embarrassed to talk about depression, but it is very real for me sometimes. Is there anyone else who goes through times like this? Does spanking ever help you, too?