I've been blue. In psychology, there is a thing called "learned helplessness." What the study entailed was the researchers strapped a live dog to a metal plate and shocked it. Of course the dog struggled to get away, but it could not as it was secured in place. They would shock the dog over and over until eventually the dog would just lay there and take it having come to the conclusion that resistance was futile. I think I have been shocked one too many times. I feel numb.

To be more precise, I wish it were just numb. There is a pit in my stomach and jabs of anxiety mixed in there. I can't seem to find anything positive to focus on. Even when my life is a total train wreck I have things I find pleasure and joy in. I have no energy and everything feels like a chore over the last couple of weeks. Daddy described my demeanor as "morose" when he saw me last night. He wants me to be happy. Me too.

Daddy says I am settling in, but I wonder at what cost? I feel like the spark that makes me who I am is being quashed. Last night he held me and told me that everything will be okay and we will have the life we have talked about. He will take care of me. Then we fucked, hot and intense as usual. Hair pulling, scratching, biting, spitting, slapping, hard pounding. That put me in a way better mood. I made dinner and then we watched some movies. I was thinking I should start calling my blog submission and eating as I seem to be always talking about food. I enjoy feeding him. Then, of course, he left.

Another shitty day today. I can't focus on my work which is piling up. I dread another night alone in this apartment. I crave stimulation. The carpet cleaners are coming so I really must run and go clean up all of my incriminating slut stuff. What I REALLY want to do is down a bottle of wine and smoke. Not allowed.