Maintenance

I hauled my ass up a ladder and cleaned the gutters out today and while I was fighting my panic of being higher up than the second step of said ladder I was thinking about maintenance. Maintenance is one of those things that is a complete pain in the ass, but it has to be done sooner or later. And generally speaking, the later you leave it, the harder it gets.

I find this to be the case with absolutely anything that needs maintaining – houses, cars, weight-loss and of course, slaves. Slaves need their maintenance too, you know.

The thing with maintenance is that it is a stage that is mentally harder than any other stage. Let’s take losing weight as an example. While you’re actively dieting you have a plan, a programme and a goal. It’s relatively easy (once you get started, of course) to stick with it. Once you reach your goal weight, however, that idea of maintaining the weight loss…for ever…is daunting. It makes me feel like I’m in limbo and personally I fail big time at it. I end up not being ever able to maintain a particular weight so I’m either losing or gaining, I never just ‘am’. I swing wildly from side to side trying to keep my body in a reasonably healthy weight range and that’s probably not the best thing to do, but I just can’t handle the ‘nothingness’ of maintenance.

As far as slaves go, how do you manage maintaining a slave? I hear the phrase ‘maintenance beating’ being thrown around a lot and sometimes I wonder if ‘playing’ actually becomes maintenance in a long-term relationship. I mean, what are you playing for other than to maintain your roles?

When you’ve already pushed boundaries and things are as ‘deep’ as they’re going to go, there isn’t anything else to do but go through the motions, is there? If you’ve already reached that place of acceptance of your role and you’ve ticked all the boxes in your experiences-I want-to-have-list, what else do you have to do but maintain what you already have?

I’d probably understand if you enjoyed the playing side of things. If that’s your thing and it does something to you like the feeling I have when I see a chocolate fountain across a crowded room, that’s great. Kudos to you. I don’t. Playing is tough and it hurts. Sometimes I feel the same way about exercise as I do about playing – it’s tough, it hurts, it’s a challenge but something good will come of it in the end.

I often find it very hard to see the forest for the trees or the beating for the pain as the case may be. I almost have to be made to realise what it is that I’m doing when we are playing to get that slave buzz. I begin not to be able to see or feel things for myself. M and his words help. Sometimes I also have to get into my head and stick toothpicks under my eyelids and say to myself, “See? Do you see what is happening and what it means? What are you? What are you doing?” It gets all very second nature and without realising that I’m a slave and I’m actually being treating as one, I take it for granted.

What I’m not sure of is whether it is maintenance that actually lulls me into that place of ‘for grantedness’ or whether it’s something that would happen regardless. Are long-term relationships doomed to head into the areas of complacency and contentment?

Just between you and me, those two words that begin with ‘c’ are supposed to be good things, but they actually freak me out like nothing else.

duct tape

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