Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Its funny how changes in your life can go unnoticed for a very long time. A series of small changes to your daily routine all add up and then one day you realise the way you live your life is nothing like what it once was. Some bad habits can creep in or maybe some small improvements are made.

The tricky bit for me is to decide on which changes are good and to spot any bad habits.

The changes I am talking about are, of course, related to my fetish which by its very nature is all-encompassing – a dominant factor in my life. Some may say this fact alone is a bad habit, but to me a habit is a bad habit only if it affects your ability to do the things you wanted or needed to do (or severely affect your own health other people in any way).

For certain, my fetish has rarely affected what I wanted or needed to do, at least in the past. The thing is, things have progressed bit by bit to what even I find a more extreme way of living and so I think it is about time to re-appraise. But that is easier said than done. Unpicking guilt associated with my social/cultural deviation from the very real possibility I may be letting things go too far in my quest to take me to my life to new highs of experience.

It impossible to do everything, so I have willingly chosen to pair down my life to a considerable degree in order to dedicate it to support my fetish aims. Certainly I am still discovering new levels sensual existence, along with just how sealed in you can be when eliminate as many time consuming commitments as possible, which previously prevented me from being in rubber.

Also I don’t have anything in my mind that I think I may be missing out on, but it’s easy to be paranoid when you are living hermetically sealed from the majority of society. Essentially I can do all the things I decided I needed to be able to do going into this, but know I can hardly be impartial deciding on what new things to do if they turn out to compromise my rubber lifestyle. It would impossible to be impartial when everything that goes with living in my rubber skin just feels so right for me…

I do feel like rubber is my true skin and I love being in my rubber support system. I feel so pure in here. I now find it is more comfortable to be in rubber and creepy to be in other clothes. I feel so clean, I feel alive in my rubber and dull (un-dead) when I am not. For some reason, which I cannot fathom, I feel so masculine to be in my rubber skin. Its certainly part of my personal self image.

I dread being out of my rubber skin. Being in rubber is so calming and the time out of rubber feels almost hysterical. When putting on my rubber, I crave that last item completing the seal and then I know I feel normal again.

What frequency and degree of rubber hermetic seal feels normal now is what is interesting. Certainly it has to be more complete and total than it did. If trend continues, I have to wonder what it might restrict what I am able to do in the future…

Sealed

Thursday, February 12, 2009

“Am I Addicted? Is That A Problem?”

or “A funny thing that happened to me on the M4”…

As you probably all know, I am lucky enough to spend most days in rubber as I work from my home office and have no limitation on what I can wear as long as I can work and live in it. For me, that means I can usually be found totally encased in rubber from head to foot, often several layers and with mask, tubes etc. I know I am is an amazingly lucky to have to opportunity and I do not squander the chance to be totally enclosed. I am told it is not to everyone’s takes, but I have no idea why. To me it is a totally amazing feeling and the more time I can dedicate to spending totally sealed in rubber, the better the feeling gets.

But am I addicted or dependent on rubber? Well here is an episode that got me thinking.

I had to attend a work meeting a 5 hours + trip from home in order to stimulate some work to allow me to work from home for another couple of months and so live in rubber. I packed my stuff, just in case I needed to be there for more than a day and set off. This sort of thing is an essential part of my life and I thought very little about it.

It’s hard to explain what happened that day but as soon as had finished my work I found I could not make it home. It was a little like a feeling of hysteria or panic or maybe it would be better to say it felt something like disgust was building up in me, This was after less than 24 hours since I had been encased in latex and this is the quickest time the craving for my rubber skin had returned to an such an unbearable level. It usually takes days for the feeling to even start building.

I reasoned it was probably because I had previously been lucky enough to have been in rubber every single day for weeks – and this is rare, even for me. It seems that this sudden transition was too much of a mental shock for me. I ended up checking myself into a hotel and knew I must immediately seal myself totally in my rubber to calm down, and then stay in there for as long as it took to build up the resources to make it home.

I know how this sounds (mad!) and I am positively not the hysterical type. OK, if it was vital, I am sure I could have got home, but I really had the feeling that I did not want to put myself through that. It was all very strange.

The hours that rolled into days of my extended session in the hotel was incredibly satisfying on a sensual level, but it was also a slightly scary experience. I tried to blank it from my mind, but kept asking myself, what happens if I get to a stage where I cannot spend more than a few hours without being encased in rubber?

I did get back after a couple of nights in the hotel and I have been in rubber most days since that episode, but I know now there is a time coming in a week or so when I may have to spend whole days working on the customer’s site without my rubber skin. This fills me with loathing and dread. What if I actually become hysterical and cannot make it through the working day? I don’t think I have ever felt this way before, and it may not happen if I keep myself busy, but this fear has been building very slowly for the last few years.

I feel the only way that would work is to plan to spend progressively more time out of rubber in the days before I need to work the whole day at the customer site. But it is important to understand why I cannot not do this. I made a solemn promise to spend all my time in rubber unless there was a specific reason that prevented me and I cannot break this promise. It’s a vital rule that has made it possible for me to be able to dedicate myself to this wonderful, yet often challenging and sometimes uncomfortable life. I must remain in rubber until I am required to be in public where I must suddenly be without my protective rubber layer.

This is the basis of the challenge I live with. It is actually very testing to be totally enclosed in rubber for long periods most days of your life. I found a long time ago that during periods when I am able to be in rubber every single day without a more than 24 hour gap, it actually gets a lot easier to live in rubber that when there is a gap between rubber episodes. So I decided I must mentally commit to daily total rubber enclosure, whenever possible in order to make my life comfortable enough to be tolerable and so meet my lifestyle goal.

Now after years of this life, I seem to have found that if you do spend weeks in rubber every day, it seems that the mental adjustment means you find it much more mentally challenging to suddenly spend time out of rubber than the physical and mental challenge of being in rubber.

Originally I thought I had been given only 3 months to experiment with this lifestyle, so decided it was a golden opportunity. I thought it must be worth experimenting with the idea of a total rubber existence while I could. I imagined it as an extended kinky rubber vacation. As it turned out the opportunity lasted much longer and then I started to take difficult and risky career decisions to see if I could make it last longer. The opportunity to work in rubber has lasted for many years now, with only a few gaps and so I must honor my promise while I can because I never know when it must end.

So I guess this is the basis of my how I became dependant on rubber. Being so mentally dependant of rubber is perversely comforting – its as if I have reached a new level of perversion. So the question is: is the rubber dependency developing to have a pathological aspect? Should I be worried or excited? Is this a mental addiction or am I deluding myself like a rubber hypochondriac?

Sealed