Yay! Counselling! Who looks forward to their counselling session? I do!

It had been a busy day doing chores and shopping for bits – once again I’d done more than somebody in my condition should.

I am a bad patient!

Quite a bit had happened since my last session – puppy play at the Nuzzles event and meeting with Ambrosius. Both of which I mostly forgot that I was getting over a heart attack and should have been resting.

Richard was delighted that I was pushing on with my adventures and loves to see the joy I feel in them, but is a little concerned that I am always over-doing it.

He was also concerned what I was telling him about the difficulties Ambrosius has with the South Asian community and his sexuality – or simply being seen with a non-Asian person – because I have worked so hard to find myself and he is worried that Ambrosius might try to put me back in my box so that he feels safer.

I said that Ambrosius and I will need to work it out because I have more understanding of the risks for him, but I also recognise what becoming myself has cost me (and my husband): I’m not going back in the box for anybody! I feel that Richard really does look out for me and challenges when necessary – I might be paying for his support, but it does feel good to have somebody unequivocally on my side.

Richard noted that puppy play has been on my wish list for a long time now and loved hearing about Nuzzles – and that Ambrosius has an interest in playing with me.

I said that I was thinking of asking my husband over on Saturday night for takeaway and a film. “Why?” he asked. I miss him and I love him and I want him to know that I’m OK and I want to know that he’s OK. “But are you ready for any questions like What are we?” Nope. I am not ready for anything stressful. I didn’t say at the time, but I strongly suspect that stress has been a major factor in my illness.

Meeting up and making friends with Patricius and Ambrosius, I feel seen and accepted for who and what I am. They both know the score with my genital configuration. I don’t sense that there’s any morbid curiosity or desire to “have a go on the eunuch” – they just see me as me.

This is a very valuable development.

I am glad that I have had an opportunity to make friends first and then play. Perhaps that is the best way things could be happening for me.

Not that I believe that any all-powerful being controls my destiny, or rearranges the universe for my comfort and convenience. I am grateful for my life, my home, my family, and my friends – but I don’t deserve these things any more or less than anybody else. No more so than those being bombed out of their homes or being terrorised by war, famine, or disease deserve their burdens.

I kinda feel that there is but one soul, that is like a gossamer thread through every living thing – human, animal, plant, planet, star (just because we can’t recognise it as a lifeform doesn’t mean that it isn’t alive) – and that everything that happens happens to the infinite soul that links the universe together – when another human suffers, that’s my soul that is suffering.

These philosophical thoughts might be what keeps me from being afraid of having another heart attack. I don’t feel afraid of death per se. I mean, I don’t want to die yet – not when things have just gotten interesting – but neither am I afraid of it. I have seen it done. Twice. By people that I loved. Both of whom managed it some much grace and dignity.

I am more afraid of losing my erectile function!

Richard thought that my lack of fear could be because either it hasn’t hit me yet (he knows that it can take a while for emotions to register with me), or maybe because I have no control over things now – I just have to turn up to the various appointments and let the professionals do their thing.

He also thought that I have been through so much (husband’s illness, attempted suicides (his and mine), feeling unsafe in my own home, and so forth), that a heart attack is like “pfft”.

My talks with Richard do meander somewhat – we finished by talking about a book that I’ve just finished reading (“Forever Leather” by Pete Fitz), where the protagonist discovers his submissive side. I brought it up because I like being out of control – for somebody else to take the reins and make decisions while I am powerless. There is that aspect of being ill at the moment.

I mentioned the BDSM test at https://bdsmtest.org/, which not only flags me as a submissive rope-bunny, but also as a brat … I might be a sub, but I’m not going to be a push over and I like to misbehave and be naughty … so I haven’t followed the “care instructions” the surgeon and cardiac nurse gave me.

I’m a very naughty boy … but for now, I’m learning that I need care and boundaries – perhaps I really do need a nice Dom to take me in hand! 😈