My own sense of mortality is killing me


For the past few years I have had this crushing emotional feeling that life is slipping through my fingers.  It is provoking a crisis of sorts, but one which has me on a level of creative, personal, and professional output that I have never come close to matching.  It is like this output is the antidote to the malaise, it is how I keep the wolf at bay. But I feel like I am running out of time, or that the wolf is nipping at my heels, and my desperation to produce increases with every passing moment. And while the result is both positive and prodigious, it provides only temporary relief. It is my Domme who helps me cope with the rest.

What is provoking this feeling?

The death of a parent, or both, at least in my case, has left me emotionally more vulnerable than ever before. The loss of my parents, separated by a few years, has made me acutely aware of my own mortality.  I think, “it’s my turn next.”

In truth, every day is a blessing, but the weight of those days is significantly heavier now that my folks are gone.  I remember thinking it was like living in a house with the roof torn off.

Yes, the cliches are all true.  You want to make every moment count.  You want to spend precious time with your loved ones, and focus on shared experiences, things that will give memories not just to you, but to them, in case you go soon.  And in those moments, you can feel the ticking of time, and the weight of needing to remember, to be remembered, to feel the importance of connection, and to say and communicate the things that need to be said, first among which being, “I love you,” to those you are closest to.

There is an expression in Arabic that I’ve written about before, but I love it so much that I reproduce it again:

The measure of a person’s life if the great works that they left behind and the memories of those who loved them.

This feels like a road map for how to live.  Produce something meaningful, and be good to the people around you, so good, that you will be remembered for it.  I have a long way to go on both.  But I feel that if I can just do one or the other, or better still, do both, that I will cure this sense of malaise that is washing over me.

I’ve been crying a lot more over the past few years.  An evolution in self-expression that is 1. Possibly hormonal, 2. Possibly related to the loss of my parents and the related soul searching that has followed, 3. possibly my ADD finally coming to the surface, or me allowing it to, 4. possibly COVID-stress induced…or is all of the above.  Curiously, one of the potential side effects of “long-COVID” is crying…so although I have never had a positive test (and I have had many tests since the very start of this nightmare), I am wondering if all of these waterworks are something else.

In truth, what I know is that ADD affects people who are sensitive—indeed it is an affliction of sensitivity to the world around us…and I, as many ADD people do, buried my emotions because dealing with them was too difficult.  While losing any parent is tough, and I loved both of mine in very different ways, it is the loss of my mother that made me feel most alone.  There is something about not having a parent there to share something you did that you are proud of that is the loneliest feeling of all.  It was always my mother who played this role in my life.  I don’t know whether this is a mother thing, or just a reflection that my father was an absent parent, so he never had as much significance in my life.  But although I have daily conversations in my head with my mother, and I can imagine what she would say or think, she isn’t there to do it for real.  And that leaves a very big hole.

But I also find I get really emotional all the time with my close family and friends.  Sometimes even with colleagues.  It never used to be this way.  I have concluded that I am running out of time, and that I have not made my mark yet, that there is unfinished business.  And this sense of racing the clock, of having fewer and fewer moments ahead where I can make my mark, is triggering this intense feeling that is both the malaise described above, but also hunger, desire, hope, dreams, wishes…and above all, creative energy.

The personal relationship where this seems to be playing out most intensely right now is with the woman who is becoming my Dominatrix.  It feels a little odd to call her that, and in truth the things we do together are not at all what I imagined one would do in a D/s relationship, but they sure trigger very powerful emotions.  I have terrible feelings of loss towards my Domme, that she might abandon me at some point.  I have terrible anxiety that we might do something together that she might not like.  I have a deep-seated need to be the best possible me with her, and for her to respond favourably to that me.  I don’t really understand why this is playing out so intensely through my relationship to Her, but it is.  And while it is scary and emotional, it is also intensely therapeutic.  

What I realise is that my life only has the meaning that I give to it, or that others give to it for me.  And it is this latter stage that needs to be cultivated.  To be such a positive force in the lives of the people around you, that they invest back in you in ways that give you meaning.  We are at our best as humans when we are helping to improve the lives of the people around us.

Simple examples include being a provider for my family, being a shoulder to cry on, being a good friend, no matter what.  That’s how I try to be with family and friends.  But there are other ways too:

  • Giving money to those in need, like the homeless
  • Supporting charities that matter to you.  I certainly do this as much as I can afford, from trans charities to supporting the reproductive rights of women, to various nature and conservation efforts

Those things are all good, but they don’t amount to much more than a drop in a bucket…in other words, they don’t cure the existential malaise.

The only thing that I have found that cures the existential malaise is submission.  I say it generally, but also specifically.  Being able to submit to the intelligent, witty, interesting, spiritual and creative person who is my Domme gives an outlet to something that cannot be found anywhere else.  It is transcendent…and it isn’t the interaction itself that does that.  I am not even sure it is just her.  She is not a real Goddess though I might call her this from time to time, and really mean it when I say it.  She is fragile and human just like anyone.  But the spiritual and emotional threads that run through everything we do together, and what it means to feel like a sub to a Domme is so powerful, that being worthy of submission, vesting the act with potency, becomes a reflection of who I am, what I do, and how I live the rest of my life.  The more that I can do, the more that I can achieve, the more useful and beneficial I can be to the world around me, the more valuable my submission becomes.  The more that my Domme encourages me to grow, and the better I am able to accomplish things, the more reflected glory comes back to her.  

You may have heard the statement “submission is a gift” and I know that most people who say that mean that a submissive person is giving a gift to a Domme.  I don’t want to dwell on that expression other than to say it is wrong.  What is right is that it takes a gifted person to be able to submit…in other words the gift lies in whether you can submit.  And what I am discovering is that in order to submit heart and soul with someone, and to not just have it be some ritual or fetishized automatic response, but to really and truly submit, you need to be submitting outside of your time together.  What does that mean?  It means living up to the ideals that are embodied in the act of submission.  Not to some rules or interactions that we have established between each other.  It is with oneself.  It means truly letting go when you are with the Domme, but the rest of the time it means living the kind of life that is consistent with those ideals.  For me, the ideals are carried in that Arabic expression at the top of this post…make a difference to the world, make a difference in the lives of the people around you.  That is the standard that the Domme holds me to, that is our shared guide to positive progress in our dynamic.  And when I am with her, emotionally and spiritually naked, I ask myself if I have lived up to those ideals, am I making progress.  And in the end, I judge myself on these, as I know they are the only measures against which I know I can heal myself and feed the fires inside of me.  It is from this place that I find the strength to move on, and it is my time with my Domme that recharges my spiritual and emotional batteries.

What this means in relation to being before my Domme is that I am learning that the most important way to be with her, is to be so good, so considerate, so solicitous, and so giving, that she will keep me.  It is bizarre I know.  After all, in theory, I am a paying client.  But the payment is for her time, the time be in her presence.  Everything else, especially her emotional engagement, is priceless.  

Perhaps some of the submission takes place in my own mind, perhaps I would achieve the same goals with another Domme.  Perhaps.  But somehow I don’think so.  I believe way too much in people finding each other for a reason.  I was meant to submit to her.  That is why out of hundreds of people I found online over a period of looking that lasted nearly 6 months, she is the only one I ever engaged with.  The most important thing about our dynamic?  She is an antidote to the possibility of narcissism.  I often wonder whether D/s with a pro-Domme is an exercise in narcissism.   A sub who has a list of fetishes or things he wishes to have done to him is simply buying wish fulfilment.  How can that be submission?  It is surely fun, but it doesn’t feel like D/s.  It is play, and there is nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t for me.  I can do that with anyone, even by myself.  But what I cannot do by myself is to follow her lead, to go where she wishes to go, to go where in her wisdom she wishes to take us.  

I really don’t understand what happens with a Domme mentally, emotionally, or spiritually, or why.  And as much as I would like to know, to unpick the mystery, to understand why with her my reaction to her is so strong, why she has taken on this significance to me, a growing part of me just doesn’t care, just wants to feel, to be vulnerable, to submit.

And my compulsion to do this right now is driving my creative and professional output through the roof.  There is something that being with her is doing to my desire to succeed, my hunger to have an impact.  It all seems meaningless without her.  It all seems to matter more now.  And getting it done, producing, making a mark, just has to happen.  The antidote to my tears, the antidote to this gaping hole in my psyche that is layered with my dysphoria, love unrequited, all the dreams and hopes of a lifetime, and the sadness that has been laid bare by the loss of my parents seems to have its path to resolution through my submission to my Domme.  I can’t be near her and not cry.  Emotions are just so close to the surface when she is around.  But somehow that is the healing process I need.  And more than just healing it gives me an endorphine and dopamine rush that just seems to keep on giving.

And I just have this burning desire to be the greatest possible human I can possibly be, to achieve as much as I humanly can, to be the nicest, sweetest, most helpful and generous person I possibly can, so that she will approve of me, that she will tell me, “good boy” or “good girl” (don’t ask) and will smile, and in her smile I will find the thing I missed from my mother.  It’s affecting me profoundly.  But I also know that the only cure for my existential malaise, is to be the kind of person that my Domme approves of.  Why her?  Because she sees me totally naked (spiritually, emotionally, physically) without artifice, with nothing hidden, and sees me more explicitly without judgement than anyone I know.  Is it any wonder that I want the one person who sees me in this way to approve of me?  That I want her to help “raise me” again?  It certainly helps that her life and interests outside of kink are inspiring to me.  But I can’t help but look at her emotionally, spiritually, and physically as a towering force of nature, and one who I am so grateful has noticed me, scooped me up, and cradles my id protectively, and helps me explore and process these feelings I have.

Not a day goes by where I don’t realise how blessed I am to have such a budding and growing relationship with a Mistress, and to have it from the foundation of a solid personal and professional life.  Thank you Mistress.  Thank you especially for introducing me to your inner Goddess.

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