Rogue Dominant's blog: "My Life In Black & White"

This week, Week 2 of the 2019 NFL Season, has been the week I have been waiting for ALL my life. It was MY PERFECT WEEK.

1. My Cowboys won, which is always a good thing.

2. The Eagles and Steelers BOTH lost, because FUCK those PA teams!

3. The Eagles, Redskins AND Giants lost, which gives my 'Boys a good lead in the NFC East.

4. The Ravens won, which I don't care too much about, except that my brother and his family are fans, so it's nice to share the victory with them.

5. My Fantasy team includes Dallas' Dak Prescott, Amari Cooper, and Jason Witten, the QB and two TD receivers this week, which blew UP my Fantasy points. On the whole, I have a pretty weak team, so this win may actually push me to a victory in the Fantasy League.

Never have all of these things come together at once for me. I may actually frame the scores from this week, just so I always have a reminder of this perfect day.

You were a good girl all the way down to the shore. You sat in the passenger seat, quietly, hands bound and only spoke when directed to. It was a long ride and I know you were getting antsy, but you handled it well and I was proud of you. I told you so, afterwards, remember? I told you often, because I believe in reinforcing positive behavior, as well as rewarding it. We stopped once so you could pee and stretch your legs, and even then you were very good about staying in your bindings and keeping them hidden from public view. Because that would have been hard to explain. Most people don't see what we were doing as "normal". There would have been accusations and our trip would have been ruined before it even got started. I didn't take advantage of you in the car, altho I did touch you a lot. I love touching. Caressing, fondling. Knowing that you're there, that you're with me, that you're mine, at least for now.

I did take your cuffs off when we got to the hotel, because I wanted you there with me when I checked in, pleasant but silent, and having your hands bound would not have looked good at all. I did get considerable pleasure when the clerk tried to talk to you, and you did exactly as told. You looked at me for silent permission to respond, and when it wasn't given, you simply smiled at the woman and looked away. Knowing the hotel business like I do, I know she found this suspicious, but the fact that I'm an employee, I knew, would alleviate any fears she may have had.

Getting to the room, the door closed behind us and you immediately knelt on the floor, as you had been instructed to do beforehand, and you recited your lines almost perfectly, with just one slip. A quick jerk of your hair got you back on track quickly and you finished with no more flaws. I pulled you up from the floor and I kissed you, one hand squeezing your breast firmly. You kissed me back and leaned into my body, Then, having freedom to speak at will again, you proclaimed that you had to pee and I let you go. While you used the restroom, I put the bags away and checked the room. Everything was in place and actually clean. I was impressed. I called down to the front desk and requested two more pillows, at their leisure, because I know how that irritates the staff, and because you were going to need them for some of the positions you would be assuming over the next two nights.

It was a long drive, so we laid down and relaxed for a bit, after opening the sliding glass door to the patio, so we could smell the salty air. We began to get to know one another a little bit, something I insisted on waiting to do until we got to the hotel. The idea of two mostly strangers going on a road trip for the weekend was just somehow more exciting than doing everything by the book, as I typically do things. We didn't exactly mesh perfectly, but that's ok. I didn't bring you along to fall in love. I brought you along to give me purpose and to be something to stick my cock into. You were excellent at both.

When we finally did walk down the boardwalk, you wore everything I picked out for you. The loose shirt and no bra that provided maximum comfort and a reason for the other tourists to turn their heads, shorts to show off those legs of yours, and sensible shoes. Because I REALLY can't stand it when someone goes walking and doesn't wear appropriate footwear. It irritates me immensely. And inside you, a pair of childrens' clicker clackers, the toys that consisted of two plastic balls on strings that you tried to bang together rhythmically. Except that these were gently shoved inside your vagina with the string hanging out for easy removal. It was also a bright, sunny day, so you were sporting sunglasses and a cap, which made you look more cute than sexy, but I was loving it.

We bought chocolate covered cherries on a skewer and I fed you as we walked. We bought french fries, but mostly to feed the seagulls. And I sat on a bench just off the boardwalk, facing the sea, and at my behest, you stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders. You pointed out a pod of dolphins making their way down the shoreline along the path the speedboats are known to take. I was proud that you knew to call them a pod. You wanted a stuffed animal you saw hanging in the arcade, so I tried winning it for you. The guy working nearby started haranguing me because I wasn't doing so well. I laughed it off for a while but then it started to get annoying, so I asked you to walk outside and let me try without you watching. As soon as you were gone, I made a deal with the employee and bought you the stuffy. I didn't tell you, of course, but you knew. We both pretended that it didn't happen, tho, and you really fed my ego, which I love. For dinner I decided we would stop at someplace on the boardwalk, and, knowing from our prep discussions what you did and didn't like to eat, I ordered for you. I don't think it was really what you wanted, but you ate it and said you really enjoyed it. It was a good first day. And the night...was amazing. Maybe I'll talk more about that later.

This is a scenario very similar to what I'm trying to make happen come September. So, if you can get away for a few days, and would like a free trip to the shore with most expenses paid, and really want to just give yourself up for a while, message me privately and I can give you more details or answer any questions you might have.

Looking for person or persons to share in any or all of the following activities:

Jogging/Running...I am beginner to intermediate. I have been training but have recently lost ground due to a medical issue.

Meditation...I am a beginner.. It was an interest of mine years ago but I am now rusty.

Body worship...Not sex. Just the appreciation of each others' bodies expressed through touch, caress and cuddling.

Photography/Modelling Projects...I do mostly editing so am interested in finding people who like being on either side of the camera or both. Collaboration projects are in the works and I am always willing to start new ones.

What is the word for when you run into two different ex-girlfriends within a week or so, both of whom kicked you while you were down, telling you, while under a doctor's care, that you had nothing to offer anyone and would never amount to anything, both of whom were so overwhemed by the fact that you are now healthy, trim, have a respectable, well-paying job, a hefty savings in the bank and are currently a home owner, to the point that they wouldn't, nay, couldn't even say hello to you, but chose to ignore you and give you the silent treatment instead?

Oh, yeah. AWESOME!

Go to bed alone. Wake up alone. Go to work. Train. Come home to an empty house. Repeat.

I've recently decided to start training myself for a 5k run at the end of September. I started running last year until winter hit and I stopped. I picked it up again this July, but took it indoors to the gym, on a treadmill. Only after deciding that I was going to run this 5k did I decide to start taking my workouts seriously, and took it to whole new levels. It took me only a short time to start doing the 3.1 miles I needed in the time I allotted myself. 'I got this,' I thought. 'I've really got this.' That was when I began telling people about my decision. To those who know me well, this came as a shock. Not because I'm lazy or unable to dedicate myself to a cause, but because just a few short years ago I was walking (barely) with a cane. I have a neuromuscular condition that was eating me up. I wasn't expected to recover. So when I started telling people I thought I could do a 5k, they expressed amazement and caution. Even knowing that I was much healthier now than 4 years ago, they found it appropriately surprising. For a moment. Once that conversation ended, they just stopped caring. Immediately.

It didn't bother me at first. I'm used to being and doing alone. I have one or two people who are there somewhat consistently if I need them, but typically only when it suits them. It only really began bothering me once I took my training off the treadmill and hit the open road. Road running is immensely harder than treadmill. You expend much more energy with each step. And since my weight is dropping faster than a pot smoker's IQ, I'm not getting the calories I really need to push myself. But the thought that has really begun to pick at my brain, tho, is that I really AM doing this for myself, and by myself. I don't have the proper equipment, nor a trainer. I have no emotional or motivational support. No cheerleader. No one to wait for me at the finish line when I cross it, near the back of the pack but just as happy as if I had been at the front.

And when you run 3.1 miles. Alone. In the middle of the night. It gives you (at least me right now) 38 minutes to ask yourself, "Why? Why bother? Why go on?" And the scariest part is, I don't have an answer for that anymore. I think I will probably end up quitting. Before I even try. And quitting scares me even more than failing. 

As a guy, dealing with your depression and women at the same time is enough to make you go off the deep end. Except for family, and even they can act the same way depending on the person, you will always go thru certain stages as you sink deeper into depression. Once you tell a female friend, you can expect to go thru these steps. Every time.

1) One-upsmanship. No matter how deep your depression, no matter how dark your world is, once you tell a woman that you're in trouble, she will immediately begin trying to outdo you. She will tell you how much worse she has had it, that she has had it so much longer, that she has been on more meds and seen more doctors. Sadly, most of the time, what this person has dealt with is not depression, but sadness, which is completely different.

Examples of dialogue you will hear:

"I've been depressed since I was x years old. I remember sitting in school thinking about slitting my wrists with child-proof scissors." (I've actually heard this from multiple people.)

"My doctor says my depression is the worst he has ever seen and had to put me on three different medications just to deal with it. I was hospitalized because I was taking so many meds." (First off, there are always multiple drugs involved, one to offset the side effects of the other, and if you were hospitalized because of medication intake, then your doctor is a quack.)

"I can't even get out of bed when my depression hits." (Remember this one. It's going to come up later.)

2) The Cure. Once you finally give in and let them believe that their case of the mopies is the black death compared to your clinical depression, they will declare that you are "fixable" and begin trying to do just that. This will involve joking, teasing, flirting depending upon the relationship and "tough love".

Examples of dialogue you will hear: "You don't need therapy. You just need a backrub from a cute girl. (wink wink)" (Because that apparently is where you store your feelings.)

"Mr. Grumpy is having a grumpy day, aren't you, Mr. Grumpy?" (This one WILL get you beaten or killed.)

"Do I need to come over there and pull you out of bed? Because I will." (Because they can stay in bed when they're depressed, but you cannot. I told you it would come back. Also, try it. End result: friendship terminated.)

"Come on. Cheer up. I'll blow you!" (Yeah. This one, I say go with it. Even if it doesn't help your mood, and it probably will, you'd still be getting some action and doesn't require you to do a thing. You're just lying there anyway.)

3) Denial. If you do not give in to their "cure", they will assume that you are not really depressed and instead, just being a jerk. They will try to convince you that you are just being difficult and stubborn, as opposed to actually ill.  

Examples of dialogue you will hear:

"I don't think you're depressed. I think you're just an asshole." (I can be both, fucker.)

"If you won't cheer up for tits, then you're not depressed, you're gay." (I can be both, fucker.)

"You're not even trying to feel better." (NEVER use this line on someone who is depressed. You will never come back from that level of ignorance or assholery.)

4) Victimization. You are now the aggressor. She is now the victim. Don't try to turn it around. You will only become the bigger asshole, she the bigger victim. This is a hole you can not crawl out of. The only way to end it is to push her away, which, of course, is what she wants, because it makes you an asshole and her the victim. Are you getting a sense of how this works yet? This is the point of no return. You can not get back after this point until your depression is over and you have totally and completely appeased her bruised ego.

Examples of dialogue you will hear:

"All I was trying to do is help. You don't have to be such a dick." (Obviously you did, or she would have stopped long ago.)

"You're always trying to hurt me."

"Keep pushing me away and I won't ever come back." (At this point, that would be welcome. You are NOT helping.)

5) Giving up. The best thing they could do, and should have done long ago, but now their egos are hurt and they cannot go quietly into the night, waiting for you to come back, without one (or two) last barb(s).

Examples of dialogue you will hear:

"I can't deal with this. Call me if you ever decide to stop being a dick."

"Fine. Wallow in self pity. Just don't say I didn't try to help."

"Push me away. There are plenty of guys I talk to who wouldn't do that to me."

"I fucked your brother." (Ok, that one is uncommon, but it would explain a lot. But mostly, I just wanted to see if you were still with me here.)

Things may not play out exactly how I've put them here, but all the elements will be there. Every time. And in the end, things will culminate with them blocking you on social media, severing communication, fucking your brother, or some other drastic action that will make it possible to reconnect only by getting on your goddamned knees once you're feeling better and grovelling like hell because you're such a horrible cunt for suffering from depression. Just know that you're not alone. All guys with depression go thru this, and afterwards, things will get better. But while you are under, you go ahead and surf that black cloud. Fuck those people who try to make a bad thing worse. And for the love of god, try to get your hands on some titties. THEY are the only true wonder drug. Peace.