2011/01/28

A Cane for my Tears

It started on the flight back from Heathrow to Johannesburg at the end of November, and kept building until it reached a crescendo yesterday. I realised after three hours that I was unable to stop crying, and out sheer desperation took a sleeping tablet. Waking up about six hours later, the hurt and longing were still so overwhelming, that it felt the pain came from the deepest core within me, but at least I did stop crying.

Back in South Africa, it did not even take a day for my reasonably bad cold that started in England to turn into full-blown bronchitis. This resulted in being booked off sick, with my doctor that knows me far too well, threatening hospitalisation if I do go to work. It was a long, lonely seven days, leaving me brooding and missing Uncle Nick even more. December is not my favourite month in general but I also had the added stress of having to perform some very unpleasant tasks at work. The New Year arrived, and with that the frustrating, difficult and extremely stressful commencement of trying to obtain work with a visa sponsorship in the UK.   


I hated crying ever since I was a small girl when I realised that a show of tears often would indicate a victory to my tormentors, which meant that they would come back with a vengeance. Instead, I replaced my tears with anger and aggression, as I was determined not to remain the victim. Sadly, a small defence mechanism that started when I was a mere six or seven years old, over the years became such a habit, that the first person that was able to break through that hard wall, was Uncle Nick and his cane.

However, being back in South Africa, alone with the missing and the terrible hurt, the frustration and stress, my behaviour underwent a change. I became more and more impatient, snapping at people, my voice hard and aggressive with my temper ready to flare at the slightest sign of criticism, regardless whether it was done with only the best of intentions. I was so desperate to cry, but once again, managed to suppress and ignore it, stubborn and not willing to feel the hurt to the point where I cannot breathe.


It was decided during this past week, that the wall had to broken down again, for me to obtain release from this hardness inside me and find some form of balance and calmness again. As such, I reported to HH yesterday afternoon, and although every fibre of my body was telling me to run into the opposite direction, I knew that it was needed. As is his normal habit, he engaged in small talk first, but I was so aware of the cane hooked over the chair, my mouth so dry with my stomach doing slow churns of pure panic, that I could barely concentrate on the conversation. One part of me wanted the conversation to carry on indefinitely, the other part wanted the caning over and done with.

It was to be eighteen strokes, and as I was bending over the chair, my bottom exposed, feeling the cane lightly tapping me, I tried desperately to relax, but my fingers were clutching and curling into the pillow so badly, that my fingertips were hurting. As the first stroke burned across my bottom, I thought myself insane, for wanting this, to need it! With every stroke, it seemed that my bottom was numb for the first couple of seconds, and then a streak of fire will race across and deep into my flesh.


I could not help myself, whimpering every time the fire started, but by stroke seven, the initial numbness no longer was present. He was laying on the strokes with exact care, taking his time to make sure that every stroke counts, trying to place all of them neatly over the whole expanse of my bottom, and my whole bottom was on fire. As the strokes continued towards twelve, I could feel myself trembling, with small shudders running through me. My whispered words of pain was now replaced by only small moans, and when he stopped at twelve to ask whether I am still okay, I could barely answer him. I was feeling the pain and burn on my bottom, but the pain inside me had me shuddering from head to toe. I was so desperately trying not to give in to the hurt, but when the thirteenth stroke seared across my bottom, the wall broke.

Although the last five strokes burned, with my bottom on fire and in agony, I was watching in amazement as my tears were silently dropping onto the chair, even having the realisation that I am no longer whimpering or moaning as the cane was finding it’s mark, because I was finally crying. It is a now a day later, and I do have problems in the sitting down department, with last night spent quite uncomfortably sleeping on my tummy, not wanting any linen to be in contact with my bottom. However, me, as a person? I am softer and gentle again, I feel lighter inside, and I know that although I most probably will start building the wall again, for now, I am okay.


  

21 comments:

Damien Tann said...

Your release/relief sounds well needed Raven, well done to you for your bravery in asking for it and then going through to receive it. Stories such as yours are not unknown to me, although I have never been in the position you were.

Stay strong my friend, tough skinned but tender hearted.

x

dd said...

Raven, I hurt and feel for you. I store up tears and when they come out they are an avalanche. The cane is an instrument we equally love and hate but can serve its purpose.

Sending you loads of hugs and hankies xx

ps The contacts out on the MN

Uncle Nick said...

Hey, sweetums, do me a favour? Sorry to go off-topic, but if you or a commentator hear from Kirsten Ellison will you tell her that I spoke to J and am very pissed off? That said I doubt if she will be seen or heard from again, ever, but you never know.

Lorraine said...

Heartfelt, stark and compelling. I could feel the release as the tears began to flow.

Peace and best wishes to you.

Raven Red said...

Damien, thank you.

Hugs

Raven

Raven Red said...

dd, thanks for the hankies, I think I have exhausted the local supply!
And the contract hit that you have put out?
Love it - but please let whoever is doing know, they have to make sure that there is nothing but ashes left...
Oh, if they need extra firewood - they can look for the cane. I am sure that fuel the fire quite sufficiently...(GRIN)

Raven Red said...

Uncle Nick, will do so..

Raven Red said...

Lorraine, thank you for the warm wishes..

Hugs

Raven

Brett B said...

Raven, I'm glad you got what you needed. I hope the good feelings last a long, long time. XO

Raven Red said...

Brett, the way my bottom is feeling currently - I hope so too!

Hugs

Raven

Michael said...

Raven, you are so much better than okay. You are brilliant. This was heartfelt, honest and deep, and I am over joyed you feel healed and whole. May it last forever.

Raven Red said...

Thank you Michael, so, so much for your very kind words.

Hugs

Raven

ronnie said...

I think you really needed that release Raven. Wonderful and so lovely to read.

Love and hugs,
Ronnie
xx

Raven Red said...

Ronnie,

I did need it, very badly at that. I am still not sitting very comfortably, but being calm and focused again, feels absolutely wonderful.

Hugs

Raven

dd said...

Raven, shall we add the paddles to the bonfire as well?

At least you don't have to e-mail transgressions to him!

Am slightly sore myself as had a "bedtime" discussion earlier...heh hoh...

dd said...

How did I get twomp as my verification, I swear you are doctoring the words, Raven :)

Raven Red said...

dd,
If you can get that fire hot enough, there are a couple of leather items that can go in as well.

Honestly, I would rather email my transgressions than hearing that icy voice telling me that I must give a full report - verbally.

Happy erm...sad to hear that at least I have now one supporter with her own tenderness in the rear region...(GRIN)

LOL!! I did a comment on another blog the other day, and also got quite a relevant word..

Hugs

Raven

dd said...

But Raven, I have to e-mail and then "discuss" it in full, in person.

I like today's verification, ilishas...almost delicious..reminds me I have an ice-cream waiting somewhere, I must have been good :)

xx

Raven Red said...

dd,
It is terrible, but at least it is an email, a report in person, with most likely the consequences following shortly thereafter..all over and done with.

Picture this:
Icy voice, wanting full report, I am lulled in the false security of being in SA, far, far away...

Then hearing rustling of paper - and if Skype video is on - one awful moleskin notebook coming to the fore.

Grinning/upset Uncle Nick triumphantly showing me how he is recording my little transgression....

Em said...

Raven, I love that feeling afterward that you've described - the lightness when you've let go of everything weighing you down. I'm so glad you got what you needed, even if the getting it isn't fun!

Raven Red said...

Em

Thank you for visiting. And yes, there is nothing in the world that can fully describe that feeling of release and relief.

Hugs

Raven

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