Discovering My Emotions in BDSM
At some point in my life, I subconsciously learned how to disassociate from pain.
Pain came in many forms in my early life, the main source being from my older brother.
My brother was never a loving older sibling. From as early as I can remember until the day he left for college, I have precious few positive memories that involve him.
His abuse was very rarely physical, though we did wrestle from time to time, and it usually ended with me in tears. But purposeful and intentional violence was not his preferred method. Rather, the underlying theme of my brother's abuse was betrayal.
He took his time, like a patient hunter. He would lure me from my defenses using just a shred of a hope of love before striking me down. An invitation to play would suddenly reveal a trap, with me as the butt of an elaborate prank or joke. He would laugh at my gullibility.
Silly girl. Of course he didn't really want to be your brother.
I didn’t realize it was happening, but as a result of those years spent at the hands of my brother, I was learning how to disassociate. I got so good at it that most of my young adulthood was a dull numbness. Feelings were diluted and oftentimes misaligned with the given event. I would laugh at unexpected tragic moments, cry at ones that made me angry. All of this was done just below my consciousness, and it was deeply self-damaging.
You see, when your body stops feeling the bad feelings, it becomes increasingly difficult to feel any of the good ones.
Then, just a few years after the condition was recognized in the DSM, my brother was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder II. He called me one night shortly after he had received proper medication for the first time in his life. He was in tears. I had never heard him cry before.
He spoke of his child, then about the age that I was when the worst of his abuse began. He tried to explain how angry he had been as a child, how the absence of one parent (a workaholic) and the chronic illnesses of the other had led him to lash out, with me as the object of his rage. He begged for my forgiveness.
How do people reconcile the life they were given with such a solid explanation as this? What does one do when presented with a sibling that was always desired, after literal decades of yearning, betrayal, and anger?
Therapy. Exercise. Medication. And BDSM.
Exercise helped me to get back in touch with my physical body. Medication helped me handle the surge of emotions that were released when I started to explore and discuss my trauma. And BDSM became an unexpected tool in teaching me how to feel in healthier, more grounded ways.
The wires in my brain that are supposed to connect healthy emotions with events in my life sometimes still get crossed. When someone I have strong feelings for becomes vulnerable in my presence, I get uncomfortable. Feelings of pure joy can make me feel anxious. Being praised for accomplishments is something that I equally relish and loathe. Pleasure and joy make me feel vulnerable and suspicious of another's intentions. I'm always aware that it could all be a fraud, that this is one big joke and I'm at the butt of it. . .the little girl.
Yes, even if I’m a good little girl. I am one...I try to be...and that affirmation within BDSM is so fucking empowering. I receive praise as a bottom, but only in the context of pain. In that familiar space, I receive and accept compliments and affection. Hit me hard as you tell me you admire my strength. Use me as you speak of my beauty. Impact play and power exchange mirror the degrading feelings so familiar to my childhood, but they do so within a paradoxically safe space.
Through its physical and psychological power, through the mutual consent of exploring violence and violation, degradation and objectification, BDSM allows me to feel all the feelings, and to feel them free of judgement of their worth.
I made a conscious decision to forgive my brother that day. He's a good father, and now, with medication and counseling, he's a damn good brother. He's working on our relationship, and I'm allowing that growth. BDSM may be seen as abusive to the outside world. To me, it’s been nothing short of a saviour.
About the Author: SubtleShadow is a queer, poly, sadomasochist and playful kinkster with an insatiable curiosity about the world and a desire to explore all of it.
