Shifts in Fantasy

When my depression sets in I usually find myself blocked from accessing and maintaining the submissive mental space that I hold so dear.  I can catch glimpses of it but the moments are fleeting and I cannot grab on and ride the feelings for any amount of time.  Something else I notice is that to "get there," I have a natural shift in the types of fantasies my brain chases.

In normal times I can linger in a fantasy of a loving and warm, albeit strict form of lifestyle D/s.  I crave the intimacy and personal connection.  I long for the embrace of my soulmate and my heart flutters as I find my life's meaning through submission and service.  This is my ultimate vulnerability and the words of my heart resonate deeply to my core.

As depression slowly erodes my feelings over time, I find the demons screaming at me, attacking my fears and weaknesses.  The defenses around my heart activate and I feel things close off within.  I know this is my coping mechanism.  I know it is effective.  My submissive self is still here and it suffers, unable to feel the way it should.  When an idealized sense of love falls from its view, it continues searching.

It begins to pursue fantasies that exist within the darkness.  Cruel.  Harsh.  Impersonal.  These flash the glimpses that allow for submission under any circumstances.  I cease thinking about myself as a life partner.  I become something lesser.  A slave.  A prisoner.  A servant.  It does not matter who I am, it only matters what I do.  I am an action.  I am a service.  I merely exist at someone else's beck and call.  I have no choices.  No freedom.  No future.  I am there, trapped by the moment, living moment to moment, day by day.  There is no warmth or love waiting at the end of the trials.  The best I can hope for is the absence of pain.  I still want to love... I just do not expect to be loved.

Why do things turn so dark?  Why is this the only way that I feel anything decent?  Is this the manifestation of how I see myself?  Or is this my inner submissive simply scrounging to be fed and it takes whatever crumbs it can get?

This is part of the cycle.  In these times, it is the only way I can get off.  I don't know how I should feel about that, or if I should just ride it, knowing that this is temporary.

Failing

When I felt the depression creeping in I told myself that I would stay active.  I would stay in touch.  I would keep writing.  I would keep chatting.  I would keep reading.  I would keep leaving comments.

Unfortunately I am not doing well with any of these original goals.  I feel like I am falling off the planet, retreating into watching shows and reading so that I don't think about anything and don't feel anything.  I am numb.

I do not have access to the feelings that sustain me and this is bothering me.