But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be beaten as punishment and as therapy.
I have a lot of self-loathing and guilt issues... will they ever go away?
When I went to T to be spanked for snapping at my mom, I felt dread because I knew it would hurt a lot, and yet I resolved to endure it because I knew it was deserved. And yet in the moment, I wanted desperately for the spanking to stop, for him to slow down, ease up. I almost couldn't take it, even though I wanted to.
The issues I feel most guilty about?
Not treating my mother well. Not helping her enough. Losing my temper with her. Feeling resentment towards my father. Not appreciating everything I have. Feeling irritable with my family.
I feel like a horrible daughter sometimes. Not just that. For everything. And I want someone to beat the shit out of me for it.
I can't even really tell what the real underlying reason is. I don't feel worthless like I'm suicidal. I feel worthless sometimes like I need to be punished and made to repent. And knowing what I know about myself, I know that spanking is just one way to deal with those feelings.
But at the same time, I know that spankings give me pleasure, so the purpose is defeated.
Times like these, I kneel and ask myself, or ask God, or ask the universe, how can I punish myself enough to feel good enough? To feel like I can be redeemed again?
Asking for punishment is a practice in indulgence. Punishment is something I crave so that I can feel better about myself. It doesn't change my previous behaviors or actions. In fact, it really doesn't change a thing.
Another intense punishment session? One where the spanker doesn't let up, and he doesn't give in, and I am spanked so hard I pass out? Will that do it? One where I am pushed so way beyond my boundaries in terms of pain that it doesn't bring me an ounce of sexual pleasure?
I've sexualized pain too much. And I've intellectualized it.
I used to cut myself for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of these self-loathing problems. When I was younger, I did it without thinking. As I got older and understood it more, I knew I was doing it because of the release of endorphins. I knew it. I knew it and I would do it in a highly methodical and premeditated way. Because I knew what the outcome would be. So even with the cutting, it was like a pleasurable punishment... and I hate that I know that.
So sometimes I think that the true way for me to feel punished is to be beaten into submission. Not just spanked. I mean, slapped and kicked and punched and yanked and thrown around. Bruised. Scratched. But even that... even THAT exhilarates me. Jesus Christ.