I had another flashback during taiji today. I tried to do the meditation to see what would happen, and yeah, won’t be doing that again any time soon.
Now, a little context. I had three hours of sleep this morning before taiji. My sleep, in general, has been even more fucked-up than usual since returning from Taiwan. I hadn’t planned on going to taiji today when I went to bed at eight in the morning, but when I woke up at eleven and couldn’t go back to sleep, I decided to go to taiji.
Now, I have been in a deep funk since returning for many reasons, so I probably would have been wise to sit out meditation. However, I was curious to see what would happen because it’d been two months or so since I meditated. The second I shut my eyes, I was in trouble.
This time, my father held his hand out to me and told me to suck his thumb. I did. I had a nightgown on–a different one–and we were standing up. After I suck my father’s thumb, he jams it into my pussy under my nightgown. Yes, I was seven in the flashback, or a tad bit younger. With his other hand, he pushed me against the wall–by my throat.
I had tears in my eyes as I meditated. I tried (per Julie’s instructions) to push the images outside my circle of concentration, but I couldn’t. They stubbornly refused to remain pushed. The second meditation was over, I bolted for my bottle of water in order to clear my head.
This was a new flashback, and while it wasn’t as horrific as some of the other, it shook me to the core in another way. One thing I like during sex is to be pushed up against the wall and ravished. I also like (or liked. I haven’t done it lately) to be choked during sex.
The flashbacks are taking away my sexuality. Many things I find arousing are based in the abuse I experienced. I knew that on some level before the flashbacks, but they are really driving the point home:
My sexuality has been shaped by the abuse. And, it fucking pisses me off.
I love sex. I always have. I consider myself fortunate in that respect, but I have the tendency to want to please in sex. Oh, I know that’s not a bad thing in and of itself, but as I have written about before, that usually equals me being a smiling sex doll who quashes her own needs, wants, and desires in order to please, please, please.
Now, I have had sexual experiences that weren’t based on the previous formula, but the bulk of my sexing has fallen into the same pattern.
For many years, I have gotten on of BSDM. Even as a kid, I would make my Barbies have rough sex. I didn’t play with dolls besides that (and chopping off their hair), and I always felt ashamed–but I couldn’t stop. I thought it was a sickness in my head, and I tried my best to tamp it down–to no avail.
Once I had the experience in Thailand, I went off the rails concerning sex. Anything was fine, anything was acceptable. I was the slut who would do anything and anybody–always with a smile on my face.
I’d like to be clear that I enjoyed most of my sexing. It’s just that I didn’t always enter into the situations for the healthiest of reasons, and I never felt like I could say no to anything. If someone wanted me for sex, then I had to give it to him/her. In addition, I was always amazed that someone would want to have sex with me because I was so damaged, disgusting, filthy, and vile. I should have sex with anyone at any time because who knew if it would ever come my way again?
I’m not saying my thoughts were rational, logical, or in anyway made sense. I’m just trying to explain my mindframe. In addition, I figured that since I was ruined anyway by my experience in Thailand, I might as well give it away on the cheap because that was all I was worth. And, I was really damn good at sex. Starving myself and sex. These were the two things I was really good at.
Starving: It was the one thing I could control in my life–how much food I ate. The flip side to this was the large amount of weight I gained after my experience in Thailand. That was another way of controlling what I ate, and it made me safe, so to speak. The fat was my shelter. I noticed that my recent gain was in correlation to the start of the flashbacks. That’s why it’s not so easy for me to lose weight–because of all the emotional baggage that is tied up into my weight.
Sexing: This is difficult for me because I don’t know how to separate what is mine from what is his. All the BDSM shit stems from the childhood abuse and my experience in Thailand. While I realize this on an intellectual level, it’s hard to distance myself from it on a physical level. The rough shit gets me off, to put it bluntly. What am I supposed to do with that? Granted, I haven’t done the truly rough stuff in a long time, but I know it still arouses me. And, after the flashbacks started, I had the impulse to find the biggest, baddest dom ever to figuratively if not literally obliterate me. I still have the impulse. I feel like shit right now, and there’s a part of me that thinks I deserve to remain the whore I was/still think I am.
I’ve talked about this new thing in BSDM called edge play. It’s rough sex with no safeword. Now, while I probably would not do that, does it really matter? I have a safeword, but I’ve never used it. In fact, I’ve prided myself on not using it. So, in the end, does it really matter that I have one if I won’t use it?
The flashbacks are messing with my head, and I don’t like it. As I said, I’ve had very positive sexual experiences as well, which help to mitigate some of the demons in my head, but as I continue to have flashbacks, I feel the conflict over my sexuality continue to grow.
On the one hand, I unapologetically love sex. I talk about it (as anyone who reads this blog knows); I joke about it; I make sexual innuendos. I am still in my sexual peak, which means I’m horny as hell, but I’m depressed, which means that I don’t really want to do anything about the horny part.
When sex is good, it’s a beautiful, wondrous thing. Good sex is very healing, but there has been little of it in my life. I don’t mean raw hot sex, which is good in its own way, but sex that doesn’t demand me to perform or to think about what I’m doing all the time. Many times when I’ve had sex, I’ve been painfully aware that I’m HAVING SEX, which means I have to be on my best behavior and give the ride of a lifetime.
In other words, the perfect sex doll.
I keep coming back to this, touching on it like a sore tooth. The flashbacks are showing me that so much of my sexual tastes and behaviors are based on my training. Therefore, it would seem prudent for me to stop engaging in said behaviors. However, said behaviors also truly arouse me–even if they sicken me afterwards. Being humiliated during sex is a huge turn-on (or was, I have to keep reminding myself that it’s been years since I’ve done that), but I know it comes from a very bad place.
I don’t want to deal with any more flashbacks. They are breaking me, even though the images occurred over thirty years ago. I hope there aren’t many new flashbacks, but I have a hunch I am not at the end yet. That knowledge makes me want to freeze up again. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
OK, I realize this is going to sound really odd, but bear with me, please.
I think you DO need to go get yourself laid. Keep it safe, please, you and I have already had the discussion about “edge play” or whatever bullshit term they call it. But find someone who attracts you, and go for it.
And then…somewhere in the session? Use your safeword.
NOT because you’re overwhelmed, or you need to stop, or you want to quit. Because the bottom line of a safeword, Minna, is that it is POWER. You have felt like you could use it because you have never ever felt safe exhibiting your own power within the confines of a sexual arena. So my recommendation is to use it. Get into the groove, and then STOP the groove. Say you have to pee. Or your hair got caught under you and it hurt. Doesn’t matter. A safeword is a power symbol, and it is high time that you DID decide to use it.
[Sorry…decided I needed to clarify my remark about “edge play” being bullshit.]
In my blunt, unprofessional opinion, edge play isn’t about mutual gratification, it’s not about pleasure, or anything else that should be associated with sex. It’s a power trip for the dom and pure abuse for the sub, since the normal line of power (safeword) is removed.
If you seek that out, you might just as well be back in the hands of your father. It was all about what he wanted, what he got off on doing, HIS power, and your lack of it. Your 7 year old self didn’t have the benefit of a safeword. Your adult self does.
First of all, I agree – no more meditation for you at this time. I saw the tears this time (so sorry), but I didn’t want to embarrass you in class. We’ll try it again someday when you are in a better place.
Your abuser may have taught you to acquiesce, to be silent, to expect that you should submit no matter what. But the things that arouse you aren’t necessarily because of what he did. Some of those things are simply things that arouse you. And, unfortunately, your abuser was the first person to make you aware of them. Dammit!
The following is pretty delicate and scary. I hope(d?) your doctor would talk about this, but I have to bring it up. I’ve read that many victims of sexual abuse are the most ashamed of any feelings of pleasure they experienced during their episodes of abuse. It’s surprisingly common, but rarely discussed, for obvious reasons. These feelings don’t mean that they liked the abuse; they are indicative of normal pleasure in an extremely abnormal context.
I like Kel’s suggestion that you use your safeword just to see how it feels. But I think that you need to also consider which activities in your past ADULT sexual experiences have been pleasurable, and which ones were you just performing/pleasing. The pleasurable ones actually ARE the things that give you pleasure, period.
You can own the pleasurable activities as things you like, and no one can take that away from you. The others should be kicked to the curb ASAP. I think that a good litmus test would be for you answer two questions: ‘Do I want this to punish/hurt myself?’ and ‘How did it make me feel after?’
If you want some specific sexual activity for the same emotional reasons that you want to starve/over-exercise, then you should say NO. But if you want something because it feels GOOD (no matter how much it freaks ‘vanilla’ people out), then fucking DO it. Because every time you do something that makes you wet in a non-abusive context, you are taking back your own sexuality.
Lastly, {{{HUGS}}}
Kel, first, I would agree with you that edge play is bullshit. It’s either a power thing, or it’s based on the same fantasy as fairy tales (you can find ‘the one’ who knows exactly what you want all the time).
Second, your suggestion is not odd at all. In fact, some of the BSDM literature I read says the same thing. Or rather, it says that some tops will push a sub to that point in the first session just so the sub will actually feel comfortable using the safeword.
That said, you are correct about me recreating my abuse in my refusal to use my safeword. It’s sick, but it’s my way of being ‘tough’ (as I had to be when I was younger). In addition, I haven’t had a session in…ten years? Something like that. I don’t know how I would feel about the whole scene if I were in one again.
Choolie, I know that physical arousal, even during abuse, is common. I had the same response when having sex in Thailand. Even though I know intellectually that it’s a biological and natural reaction, it still shames me.
As for what is mine and what isn’t…it’s easy on the extremes. Bondage is mine. I like being tied up. I’m comfortable with that. Same with spanking and nipple clamps. On the other end, all the degradation (crawling, for example)/rape-simulated stuff is not mine. They make me feel disgusted afterwards.
It’s the stuff in the middle that I’m not sure about. Choking, whipping, humiliation…gray area. Not sure how to find out except through experimentation, which could push me back again.
I don’t know. It’s pretty dispiriting, though, to think that much of my sexuality was molded by him.
Yes, it is dispiriting. Your shame is understandable, even if it’s not your fault. And it’s not. I sure as hell don’t judge you for anything you felt when you had to go through those horrors.
I’ll say two more things. Choking/whipping are probably more you than the abuse; humiliation, however, is definitely playing to the abuse in your case. But here’s the big thing: You should stay away from anything you consider a gray area until you have a partner that you know will indulge your wishes in a loving and healthy manner.
Choolie, it’s sometimes hard to reconcile my feminist sensibilities with my more violent sexual desires. I agree with you that anything that has even a hint of the gray area should be avoided for now. Not that it’s that difficult considering my lack of sexing that I am doing (or not) at the moment.
Haha – that’s a shortcoming of feminist philosophy, not of you. If you knew how many women share your dilemma! You’re in good company.
You never know when an opportunity to get laid will happen, so it’s just as good to discuss now as it will be tomorrow.
Choolie, yes and no. It’s my own feminist sensibility that is disgusted by some of the things that turn me on. I don’t like it, so I try to stay away from it.
Getting laid: Yeah, I guess. I highly doubt it will be tomorrow, but who knows? And, you are right in that, like a Girl Scout, I should be prepared.
This is a lot to think about as I relate to large amounts of what you are saying concerning my past abuse and current sexual situations.
It is hard to reconcile the fact that some of the things The Boy does turn me right the hell on.
It freaks me out twice as bad because a few times…his actions have caused “another person” to be very present. Separating the two at the moment is very hard to do.
Of course, he knows none of this…
Hugs Minna
whabs, I have not had sex since the flashbacks started, so I don’t know what would happen if both occurred at the same time.
As for The Boy, my sympathies. I have no words of advice; I can only offer hugs in return.