When is it really pleasure?

This quote was on a post card and I can't stop thinking about it. I've thought of all the times I believed I was sacrificing for pleasure but in reality, I was sacrificing myself for momentary satisfaction, faux fulfillment, a whisper of validation, even attention misinterpreted as love. Is it really pleasure if you can't surrender wholly and completely without using this "pleasure" as a means to some sort of end? Or worse yet, to avoid feeling something else?