Fluid Sense of Self

I want you to crush me in your hand
While I can still call myself "me"...

So, I'm resistant to change.  Of any sort.  Change in my environment, change in other people, change in my own habits, and (especially) changes inside myself.  I'm pretty.. content with where I'm at.  I like me.  I like who I am (on the inside... the outside still has a lot of self-esteem issues, but that's a different post).  In any event, I'm satisfied with myself as a person.  I don't think there is anything wrong with me.  I don't think I need to change...

And for some reason, I seem to think that obedience and surrender are going to drastically alter me beyond the point of no return.  If I were to become readily obedient, less questioning.. could I still call myself me?  The idea of Master making changes to me as a person scares me.  Of course, he's already done that a few times - typically without me realizing that it was even happening.  Sometimes, I never even noticed at all and he had to tell me about the change he had seen in me.  Given that it's already happened and given that every time it has happened, it's been for the better?  I don't know why the idea still scares the shit out of me.  I feel like it's holding me back, like there is some small part of myself I'm not giving to him because I'm too busy grasping hold of it like a fucking lifeline.

And that makes me feel really, truly awful.

I guess to some people that might seem weird. I mean, self preservation is programmed into us.  We're supposed to (used loosely), as humans, do things like that.  But it makes me feel guilty.  It makes me feel like I'm not doing everything I can.  It makes me feel like I'm not sacrificing enough.

...It makes me feel like a failure.

I've never striven for perfection with myself (as a human being, at least).  I believe flaws make us who we are.  That's probably why I think that altering myself, even in the case of improving "flaws" or "faults", will make me be... not me anymore.  I fucking love my faults.  But on the other hand, I'm not crying over the things that have already changed in me, am I?  It makes no sense.  And more importantly... why I am I so afraid of losing myself?  I'm not sure I have the right to a "self" anymore, other than what he gives me.

Part of the fear, I think, may stem from him as well.  Some years ago, he confessed to me that he was afraid I was "losing myself in him".  I think that scared him.  I'm not sure why.  If he reads this, I'm not sure he'll even remember this conversation because he's probably moved beyond those concerns by now.  But it's always 5 times as scary when Master is afraid of the same things I am.  And if I were to become something or someone else... would he still love me?  I wonder that a lot.

But someone said something to me the other day.  Actually, this wasn't really said "to me".  I was in class and so it was in an academic context, but the study of psychopathology is nearly always personal on some level or another.  I was listening to this girl (a lovely Bulgarian I've grown rather fond of) say something along these lines:

"I don't know why people are always so fixed on this one set 'thing' that they feel they have to conform to in order to be themselves.  I sometimes think people would be much happier if they could have a fluid sense of self and embrace change.  Perhaps then they could see they are as much themselves now as they were thirty years ago."


That was like being punched in the face.  I'm always going to be me, regardless of what happens.  And I think I want to be subsumed by him.

I've always loved this song.  It's in Japanese, but I'll give translated lyrics here.  Both the lyrics and the song are beautiful and relatable to me as a slave.

Chou (Butterfly) - Amano Tsukiko [YouTube Link]


"I crawled underground digging a tunnel
Not knowing how far the tunnel would go on for
With my soil-covered scoop in one hand
I was searching for your arm


As I gathered up my patchy happiness and sowed it
I was crushed by your strength


Burning
Burning
The scar on my palm that won’t go away
Ripping through the gaps in the red clouds with my tattered wings
Finding a me who can fly well


Where will the eternity I drew while I was in my cocoon
Put out its bud and open its flower?
The morning eventually brings back the night
Captivating me


Moonlight
I believed that as I groped around
My arm would get tangled with yours and I’d find where you are


Burning out
Burning out
You won’t come back to the place we promised
Running through the black earth in shattering pain
Finding a me who can fly well


If I can’t hear you scream
I want you to crush me in your hand
While I can still call myself “me”
Your arm holding me back becomes silent dust
I just quietly
Looked up at the sky


Burning
Burning
The scar on my palm that won’t go away
Ripping through the gaps in the red clouds with my tattered wings


Burning out
Burning out
You won’t come back to the place we promised
Finding a me who can fly well..."


*~zelda...