The Value of a Spanking, His Awareness

Yesterday I posted that my emotions were a little out of check. Sara of http:/findingsara.wordpress.com commented “Send him this post.” I did not have to do that. I had a panic attack. In my DH defense it was not because I needed or wanted a spanking. My panic attack was caused by me stuffing my emotions again.

I carry guilt for loosing my mind and not being able to make a suitable living to support my children. I carry guilt for having to place them with their father because I became to ill to be an effective parent. I have dealt with that guilt and put it away for the most part knowing that guilt is a useless emotion. Life and its struggles are just life and its struggles nothing more nothing less. I know this common sense tells me it is fact and I should just continue moving forward.

My daughter called yesterday afternoon. We had a good conversation and it was happy. I asked a question about her going back to the rental house last week to pick up the refrigerator. She told me the house had already been rented. The new tenant had let her and her father in to collect the refrigerator. My daughter told me she was embarrassed.

That phrase from her sent me into immediate crisis mode. There are things a mother never wants to cause her child pain, shame, embarrassment or emotional trauma. I seem to be good at causing all of these emotions in my children. I told her I loved her and removed myself from the phone.

I continued into crisis mode, I stuffed all that inside and sat on it. Within an hour DH and I stopped for lunch at a truck stop. I would have been okay but DH had to stretch his legs a little and dawdled inside the store. Sunday afternoon in a truck stop/travel center, children and families abound. I kept it together until all the guilt sent me into a shaking rattling mess. I did not make a scene but it was noticeable to DH and he knew I was in pain and he knew what I needed.

Back to the truck he took me. “Change your clothes.” DH said.
This means put on a particular outfit with no underwear that he can see through but others at a distance can not. Sitting in the passenger seat of a truck with other truckers passed or passing makes me very submissive to him.
“Raise the dress, on your knees ass exposed.” He told me.
I did and I received 10 alternating swats. This stopped me from shaking. My face and my butt burned. I sat in the passenger seat and he told me he loved me. “We will take care of this fully after we park for the night. I know what you need and you need to quit bottling and holding guilt. It isn’t good for you.”

We continued down the road I settled down and relaxed. He continued his will as we traveled down the highway and made certain I became completely submissive to him. When we stopped I knew what was coming. I knew I was getting a spanking and I knew why.

“You know why we are doing this?” He asked

“Yes” I said.

He looked at me. I added,

“Because I stuffed my emotions and caused my self pain, which caused a panic attack. We have talked about it and I knew what to do to stop the events and I did not use my tools.”

“Yes now prepare.” He responded

I kneeled on our bunk. The dog was given a special treat to keep her occupied and he sat before me on the bunk.

“Come here.” He said

I laid down across his lap. Staring into the comforter, my hands up by my face clutching a pillow, my feet touching the opposite side of the sleeper he began bare handed. I know he spanked my bare bottom with his bare hand about 20 times. He rubbed me caressed me talked to me about why we do this. Reminding me I need to let go, it is okay to cry, I need to release my emotion. “Yes sir, I know sir.” I responded my voice shaky but know tears.

He then began again this time using the wooden spoon. The burn of the first strikes I could take. I laid still and held on to my resolve to submit to my head of households will, but something inside me snapped. The pain became intense I began to squirm, each strike hurt so much worse than the one before it. There was no subspace or I am pleasing him, he held me in place. The warmth of his arm across my lower back holding me there the strikes of the spoon and suddenly I was crying. I was not crying because of the physical pain. All the images came up my yelling and screaming at my family and then making up for it by being permissive and not follow through with parenting. My parents, my genetics, my mother, the cycle of my childhood I did not want to repeat and ultimately I did. It all came forward. I confessed it all, I told him all of it and he held me. My face buried deep in his chest.

“Let it go. Baby.” He said

“It will be okay. You have good kids. They know and love you no matter what.” He confirmed.

I think I cried for an hour. I know it was more like 15 minutes, but I was exhausted. This spanking wasn’t about punishment, maintenance or submitting. This spanking was about letting go, forgiving myself and trusting him with all of my secrets and guilt. Every step of it was a process to self forgiveness. I know that my genetics are not my fault. I know that part of what happened I had no control over. I know that putting my kids with their father and not worrying what society thinks of me is in their best interest.

When I was a young woman I wasn’t going to have kids. I wasn’t going to propagate the mental illness that plagued my genes. Then I looked at the rest of the world and decided I was in love and there were other mothers with worse genes than mine having children and I took a chance. I was already in counseling taking medication and proactive in the care of my disease. Life is what it is and all my proactive care couldn’t stop the progression. I regret my actions but I was to close to the forest to see the trees. I now know that during my frenzied, self-destructive battle with chronic depression I was unable to change the course.

My children having had counseling to deal with their mothers suicide attempt the melt down and everything that preceded it do not harbor the anger and hatred I harbored to my parents. They love me. I have an unconditional love from them that I do not understand fully. I am relieved they do not hate me. That they want a relationship with me, maybe the difference is I knew at the very end before my suicide attempt they did not need to be harmed by this or at least I tried to minimize their harm by moving them to safety first. My actions may have showed how much I love them.

All of this I let go of last night. I know my path is in the best interest of my children. I know I am on the road to a recovery. I know my husband loves me and supports me. I know I can be a better parent from the sidelines than I can in the thick of their battles. I know I have put them first. I know my condition and history has them fully aware and sympathetic to other human beings. They have a special room in their hearts for the mentally ill.

I forgave myself last night in my tears. I have two remarkable children and no matter what I did or put them through they have compassion for others and I have forgiven myself.