Pain or pleasure?
Wednesday, September 1, 2010 at 11:13PM 
When pain and pleasure are combined, when the trigger for pleasure is forever connected with physical and emotional suffering, untangling the two can take years if not decades. Any sexual abuse victim can tell you that if they were sexually stimulated while being hurt at the same time, they choose their life in suffering in the future, being even somewhat disoriented if they have no pressure, no stress, no grief. As abuse survivors, we don’t know we can thrive. We don’t know we can love life, be happy, be content. We’re used to linking pain with pleasure, and sometimes making ourselves ache in order to get any satisfaction out of anything. Hard work, only hard work can win us relief. Prolonged angst and misery are life. If everything is good, something must be wrong. Something must break loose and ruin the quiet, so we better be prepared. We better suffer ahead of time, just so that when it hits us, we won’t hurt as much.
But we can be. We can break from this twist. We can recognize that our suffering no longer is a must, it never was a must, it always was imposed upon us, without out consent, and we can shake it off. Be free from it. We can start with very little, by looking around and noticing things. By spending time to kneel down to the grass, because today it is a special brilliant green, and it needs to be admired. We can stick out arms while driving in the car, to feel the air flowing through the fingers, because today is the first day of the fall. We can chat away with friends about nothing in particular, simply because it makes us smile or enjoy the conversation - even if the conversation stretches for hours. We can grant ourselves permission to do these little things, without having to go through pain to earn them, without feeling guilty after, without stopping mid-sentence, to think whether or not we are right.
We can have fun for no reason. And then, when we plunge back into darkness, as it inevitably stretches its fingers to tear us out of happiness, then, we can look back and see how having fun was just that - having fun. So that next time, when we manage to climb out of depression, we can try it again, little by little, each time getting better, each time allowing ourselves a little more. Each time celebrating life by living it now, fully, together with people that love us, and whom we love. The more we do it, the stronger we become. The harder it is for the pain to return, the easier it is for the pleasure to remain present. Until one day we return to how we were before we were abused - innocent, happy, laughing children - maybe 3 years old, or 4, or 5. Before we had any fear of anything, before we thought that making sand castles is a waste of time and kicking stones into the river is not a desirable past time for proper girls and boys. Before we lost trust in those close to us, before we experienced the shock of our abuse, before we dove into a little corner of our souls to protect the broken pieces. Remember that time? Remember how laughing was just that - laughing? How anything could be silly? How chasing birds was the most important task on the daily agenda? How getting wet in the puddles was a highly sophisticated art - and how we didn't feel wet even after completely soaked from the rain? How snails and butterflies were fascinating, and how picking apart a broken mechanical toy was the best past time ever? How we could forget in minutes when someone hit us with the book on the head? How all regret for anything vanished as soon as there was a new thing to do - which could be as simple as glancing at the sky and seeing a dinosaur instead of the cloud?
I returned to being 5 today. I blasted music in my car on the way home and danced at the wheel, despite cautious glances from other drivers. I slurped sauce from my fingers. I felt pangs of love, love for everyone - I wanted to hug every single human being, every tree, or simply drop on the ground and hug it - for being there. I walked on the street just to hear my boots clanking - one, two, one, two - making a silly rhythm. Today was the happiest day of my life. I think today I fully healed. I've separated pain from pleasure, for the first time since I can remember myself - which is probably around 5 years old. I did silly stuff and I have not felt guilty, or ashamed, or wrong. I didn't care. I lived. It was a glorious feeling. I'll never forget it. It felt like being born again, like falling in love. With life. For life.
Photo by Sam Howzit.
Reader Comments (2)
To start, I'm really happy that you were able to enjoy yourself like that :)
That state just seems so far away...
I lived a lot of my life dissociated so I thought I was happy, maybe even felt happy, but I know even back in my/our childhood I had problems and things were always lurking under the surface..
Sarah, I know it seems far away, but it really isn't. It is in you, always has been, and it will come out, in time, after you peel the layers of abuse off, one after another. The sad truth is, it takes time. But, the truth also is - it will happen one day if you want it to. Sounds like you do. And that means it will happen for you:)