Punishment therapy

I don't ever want to be the type of person who uses BDSM as therapy, although I know there are inherently therapeutic aspects in this pain-for-pleasure mentality.

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.

Girlfriend/boyfriend

I'm not sure that I will ever be a normal lover.
I know that I am submissive, I enjoy spankings, and someday I would like to do some pretty dirty things in the bedroom. But none of these things is all encompassing of a real and full relationship.

I can't stand intimacy like that with a male. I can be best friends with girls... all my best friends have always been girls. But I don't get along with guys. I don't fight with them. I just don't speak to them. I don't want to say that I'm afraid of them... it's more like I don't know what to say to them. Everyone tells me to just act like I act with girls, just talk about random stuff.

But I can't.

I don't like when guys flirt with me because it makes me feel disgusting. Not because they are acting disgusting or disrespectful... but I get a feeling in my stomach that just feels terrible.

This is why I like going clubbing. Because I can let loose and be a complete slut, and there are no repercussions or judgments for it, and no one has to fucking talk. Let's be honest, club dancing is just dry sex, dry humping, and you are just a faceless, sweaty body in the crowd.

But that has gotten me into trouble before. One of the last times I went to a club in college, I was totally drunk, totally wild. I started dancing with this guy because he offered me a drink. Why the hell not, I thought. It's Thursday night, no one gives a shit, let's just play and call it a night. I danced with him, grinded on him, I think I even gave him a lap dance, I unbuckled his belt, I did everything to make him believe that he had "scored." Then when the night was over, he started whispering in my ear about something. He wanted to go home with me. I just laughed and said, no, sorry, I gotta go home with my friends. I'm the driver tonight. I have to go home. I have class tomorrow. He was getting pissed, and that was making me anxious. He said he had to go pay his bar tab, will I wait for him? I said, umm yeah sure. But I didn't. I just wanted to leave, so I grabbed my girl friend's hand and we ran across the street to sober up. I really was the driver and I had drunk too much. The cold air would help, I thought. We hung out for about 30 minutes and then started walking to my car. And that guy was there. So fucking pissed. He started yelling at me through the passenger's side, across my poor sophomore friend who was terrified and had no idea what to do. I told him, I'm sorry you got that impression from me, but I need to go home. He was so incredibly mad, I was scared he'd hurt my friend or damage my car.

"Don't FUCKING do that that people. Don't dance for drinks like that and LEAVE. Let me just tell you that I know girls who have gotten HURT for that kind of shit. I know people who would FUCK you up for something like what you just did. Don't ever fucking pull that kind of shit again."

He kept repeating this. And all I could say was, We have to go, we have to go.

Eventually, I drove away, my friend and I both sitting in silence, the night completely ruined.

I slut-shamed my own self. Was that my fault? Was I not to supposed to accept his drink and dancing if I wasn't going to go home with him? Did I push too far? And then this boiled over to rage. Am I a fucking PROSTITUTE? Because we had a good time at the bar, I am OBLIGATED to suck your cock? Just because you have blue balls, I'm supposed to feel SORRY for you?

Maybe it was unclassy of me. Maybe that's not how it works downtown. But I felt such an extreme mixture of guilt, anger, and disgust that I just wondered how I was ever going to be a normal person.
How can I have all these highly "slutty" desires, and yet be such a prude? I'm a complete cocktease, and I lead people on. I can see why that guy would think I was going to fuck him. Because I basically fucked him on the dance floor. That was an extreme case, but this is not the first time that sort of thing has happened.

And even if I met a nice guy who didn't expect all those things of me, I don't want to do anything "romantic" either. I can't stand the thought of someone kissing my mouth, or hugging me, or caressing me. It literally makes my stomach turn over. They aren't disgusting acts, I know this. But it disgusts me anyway.

Spanking is different... it's harsher. It's not a light touch (or at least it shouldn't be). And the idea of a spanking does turn me on... but I still can't... put it together in the context of romance or sex. Will there ever be a guy who could deal with that? You can spank me, but don't put your hands on me anywhere else. Don't touch me in public. Don't kiss me. Don't hug me. Don't cuddle with me. Just. Don't. Touch. Me.

This post doesn't have any chronology or order to it... Even I don't understand how all these things fit together. But the (bare) bottom line is that I either need to seek more therapy, or prepare for a life surrounded by the warmth of cats.