I’m not having any. Sex. In fact, this is probably the longest I’ve gone in… well, I don’t know. Over a decade at least. I think. Maybe more. It hurts my brain (and other parts of me) to thing about it.
Especially when I ponder the why.
It’s complicated. Not that complicated. Just layers of crappy.
Yeah, I’m having one of my articulate days.
For my regular readers, you know my docs have been fiddling with my meds over the past year-ish. More so in the past 3-6 months. At some point, a while ago (I don’t know exactly when, it’s not like I charted it on a calendar) I realized that my sex drive was gone.
Now, here’s a tangent. Years ago, a dear friend of mine (who happens to be a gay man) described me as a gay man with a vagina. In relation to the way I think about sex, men and relationships. And also my sex drive, I suppose. I have always had a super-charged sex-drive. Which I like to think of as a value neutral thing. It is what it is. Or what it was.
All of a sudden, at some point in the last few months, it was gone. For the most part. Squashed by one of the new meds. Which happens. It’s the side effect of lots of drugs, I guess. But I was pissed.
I mentioned it to a doctor. Who was very unsympathetic. Her exact words, “Well, you’re single, right?”
Yes. She said that. I was calm. Kind of in shock, actually. I told her I was single, but not ready to “close up shop.”
Anyway… there is more to the NO MORE SEX thing. While my sex drive is virtually dead. It’s not completely gone. There is one more, even more embarrassing issue. I can’t stand the sight of myself naked.
That’s right. I said it.
I was at the doctor yesterday (yes, I have a lot of doctors appointments, not my choice) and I’d gained another 4 lbs since my last visit. Three weeks prior. I am now 4 pants sizes bigger than I was this time last year. Most people around me are fairly oblivious (as to the extend of the wreckage) because I’m still, by American standards, quite small. But I disgust myself.
And because I disgust myself, I can’t currently see myself as a sexual being. It just won’t work. That tiny bit of sex drive that isn’t being chemically destroyed is being straggled by my self-loathing.
So here’s how this played out. I made plans a few weeks ago to get together with the fuckbuddy for the first time in SO LONG. And then I cancelled. Because I looked at myself in the mirror. And my desire died.
I’m really trying to fix this. First by working to stop the weight gain. Which is fighting an uphill battle, but whatever. And more importantly, to learn to accept this new me. Because the self-loathing isn’t helping.
Tags: fuckbuddy, self-loathing, sex, sex drive, single