Yesterday, I was ready to lay down and die. I had nothing left in my spirit that wanted to keep on living. With all of my animals piled up around me, I begged them to please let me go so I could be at peace. I cried all day. I think I ate something once because Ted asked me to. I was ready to stop going through the motions and be finished. When Ted went to work, I did the last thing I could think of: I prayed.
Now, you have to understand that I have a unique and very personal relationship with my Higher Power. She is sassy and mean; and when She wants it Her way, it is so. This was my prayer:
I know that I don't pray very often; I don't have the tongue for it.
But I could use a little help here because I'm not going to make it alone.
And if You won't help me then fuck You.
(Kudos to those of you who got the Conan reference)
I asked Ted to come home and check on me on his lunch break (he works third shift). He couldn't come home, but he called. I was still breathing, and I could feel the familiar crackle of otherworldness running up my spine. But it wasn't until today that She responded. There is a local group, a small community here of kinksters, that gets together once a month. I had all but talked myself out of going, but Ted encouraged me to go. He thought it would be good for me to socialize with someone other than him. So, I went.
And She sent me Thunderbolt.
As it turned out, Thunder was flying solo for the evening because His Lady was home with strep throat. He made a comment about how He was bummed that He didn't get to play. Without thinking, I chimed in "I'll play with You!" And so began the unshaking of everything inside of me.
I'm not used to spankings. It was never something Ted and I did when we functioned as a D/s couple. It was all floggers and knives, hit parade and splash. This was something entirely foreign to me. I could hear the low feminine chuckle in my head as the first strikes fell. Ask and ye shall receive.
Every time He hit me, I would cry out. I yelled, I cursed, and I cried for what seemed like forever. Whether She was guiding His hand or not, He beat all of the shards of glass out of me, and I was left with something of a clean slate. When it was all said and done, I cried a river of anguish onto His shoulder, and He held me and just let me get it loose. He listened as I rattled off all of my problems over the last I don't know how long, and He spoke to me the way T would speak to me (except without all of the sarcasm. *kiss*). By the time I was finished crying, I had no more story to tell, and I felt that I could maybe start making it through the days without asking that they be over and done.
The message of the holy woman came through our conversation so strong...I knew She was there. I know that She laughs at the fact that I must be beaten in order to understand that I am worthy, that I am holy, and that I deserve to live. The beating I took tonight was personal. It was heaven sent. It was exactly what I needed to get down into the mire and sweep all the bullshit away. And I know that She doesn't want a weak-willed groveler. I know that she doesn't want someone who doesn't understand their own worth. But maybe now with all of those shards of the past life gone, maybe now I can see myself. Maybe now with all of what you did, and what he did, and what she said gone, I can look at that slate and see an image of myself shining back out at me.
I know that I don't pray very often, but I feel You in my life.
I know that I can be difficult to direct often times, but I am ready to be guided.
And I know that I can do it alone because I am strong, special, and ready to go to war for myself.
And if anyone tries anything tricky, fuck them.