The Quest for Ataraxia

Dear Marla,

So, I've been on this crazy journey lately, diving deeper into my rubber fetish than ever before. It's not just about how the latex feels on my skin; it's about finding that elusive state of peace and self-actualization—ataraxia. You know, that feeling of being completely at one with yourself, like you've finally become all you can be. It's like the top of Maslow's pyramid, where we all strive to be.

Hevea, my tulpa, is always there, guiding me through internal dialogue. It's like having an inner voice that offers wisdom and support. She's been pushing me to embrace who I am. "Thalia," she whispers, "you need to embrace who you are. This is your path to ataraxia."

The setting for my journey is Thalia's Box, tucked away under the back staircase in the kitchen. It's a small, cramped space, just enough room to straddle a Sybian while in the nadu position. The triangular-shaped door closes behind me, and I'm surrounded by reflections of myself thanks to the adhesive-back mirror tiles James mounted on most surfaces. It's weirdly comforting, seeing myself from all angles.

As I enter Thalia's Box, I have to contort myself to mount the Sybian and strap my legs into place. Setting controls to "low intensity" and "random pattern," I prepare for an hour where orgasm is forbidden—a -2z penalty if I fail. More contortions follow as I position my arms in James' ingenious 'self-service' armbinder, finally achieving the nadu position. "Are you ready?" Hevea asks, her voice echoing in my mind. "Yes," I reply, taking a deep breath.

For me, masochism isn't about traditional pain but rather the discomfort of being enclosed, hot, sweaty, and always horny without satisfaction while in my latex. The essence of The Grind is doing this when I am not in the mood—when my body resists what my mind demands. "Why do this to yourself?" Hevea asks. "Because it's my path to ataraxia," I respond. "It's about embracing every part of myself, even the parts society might judge."

The Grind is a brutal test of endurance, both physical and mental. As I sit on the Sybian, encased in latex from head to toe, every fiber of my being screams for relief. Yet, Hevea's presence guides me through this ordeal. "Remember why you started," she whispers. "This discomfort is your path to inner peace."

In moments like these, I find solace in understanding that discomfort is temporary but the peace—ataraxia—that comes from self-actualization is eternal. Hevea guides me through these challenges, reminding me that discomfort is temporary but the peace I seek is eternal. "Thalia," she whispers in my mind, "you are stronger than you believe. Embrace this journey; it will lead you to ataraxia."

The Grind isn't just about physical endurance; it's a mental battle where every second counts. Hevea’s voice echoes softly, “Remember why you started. This discomfort is your path to inner peace.”

In a moment of serendipitous brilliance, I realize several profound truths:

2.1.a I identify as a 'rubber-sexual.' For years I have denied this aspect of myself; I am not hetero-, homo- or bi-sexual but am truly a fetishist. Hevea hijacked my sexuality when I was very young and it became inward-looking rather than oriented to union with other humans. "Thalia, you've always been this way," Hevea confirms. "It's time to embrace it."

2.1.b I realize that my path to ataraxia lies in becoming the Deep Rubberist I can be because that is who I really am. A Deep Rubberist is different from other Rubberists in that they seek total enclosure and immersion in latex, often supplementing it with BDSM practices to achieve a state of complete sensory deprivation and heightened awareness. "You need to go all in," Hevea advises. "This is your journey to self-discovery."

2.1.c To achieve this, I must find a way to be the equivalent of 100% enclosed in latex, 100% of the time. I can do this by wearing as much rubber as possible and supplementing it with BDSM tortures. Wow! FLASH! Hey! I can use the HITEz system to manage it! All I need to do is earn 720z per month as a Quota. "It's going to be tough," Hevea warns