Warning: This post contains some explicit material. If you don’t want to know, please read something else. However, as it is part of my journey, I need to tell it.
God threw me another curve ball. Normally, at least at this point in my life, I am used to it. Having a disease like bipolar which by definition goes all sorts of directions means that I learned early on how to be elastic. And while I imagine there are those of you reading this post who think that might be cool, I would give anything to find a normalcy and stick to it.
My medicines have been changed recently. This means going though a period of a great high, then falling down that rabbit hole to see what life on the other side is like, followed by a period of depression that disturbed all those around me, to now this.
And this consists of not sleeping and having a sex drive for the first time in my life. I know that you want to get into the sex drive part, but first I think I need to talk about the no sleeping.
We all have periods when sleeping seems to, for whatever reason, be a little out of reach. Maybe we doze through the night, maybe we have periods of deep sleep punctured by periods of staring at the ceiling listening to others breathe. Maybe you took to long of a nap in the afternoon or maybe you slept in to long that morning. Maybe the temperature in your house was too warm or too cold and you are simply too uncomfortable to sleep. There could be a thousand reasons.
For those of us who live on medications not sleeping is a problem. For those of us who are mentally ill, not sleeping can lead to the bad stuff, the really bad stuff. For those of us who live on sleeping pills designed specifically to help us sleep and work against our disease, not sleeping can be terrifying.
I am not at the point of being terrified although if this continues I will be. Instead I simply shake that bottle of prescription pills and wonder why in the world it isn’t working like it should. And the dangerous thoughts about taking more than one start invading or taking an over the counter with that prescription begins. And these are the thoughts that combined with depression can kill. Its that easy.
Currently I am not sleeping and I have no reason why. I alternately stare at the ceiling, spend time in the bathroom, and then eat junk food throughout the night. I listen to my children breathe, I listen to my husband snore and simply wait. This is the time that the daydreams began to take over; dreams about the next book I will write, the research I need to do for that book, or even what I will do with a million dollars. And these thoughts in and of themselves will keep me awake.
I get out of bed to people in my life telling me I look hungover or exhausted. I get up to people pointing out the bags and dark circles under my eyes, and the continual loss of temper I display to my children. All things that I know but am helpless to do anything about. I can’t take a nap and I can’t go to bed and sleep at night. And as this builds, if it builds, the danger will build along with it.
On top of being awake all night, I am also experiencing sexual desire for the first time in my life. Because I have been on medication from my teen years to today, I have never known grand passion or exceptional sexual release; I would even say I was one of those who could never figure out what the fuss was all about. Sex has always seemed like a pointless endeavor that is overall pretty boring. I could get close to a climax by myself with marijuana but even that I have learned was an illusion. It is no where near as strong as this complex and heavy compulsion to find a satisfaction that seems to be just out of my reach.
I hurt in regions of my body I never knew existed. I find excitement in the smells, the touches, and the feelings that for my adult life have only been something I read about in a book. For the first time in my life I know what desire is, what happens when a woman gets aroused, and what it is like to fly deep into the face of a incredible, if short lived, climax.
These feelings are uncontrollable, and unfortunately for me so unrelenting as to be painful. There is no release high enough, nothing that can get deep enough that gives surcease, and nothing and no one that can finally, finally give my body what it seems to be begging for. And no matter how many times I chase that happy ending, the next path is already laid for me.
I don’t know if the fact that I am feeling sexual desire for the first time is the cause of it being so strong. I have spent the last twenty years of my life wishing, praying, and chasing that understanding so that I too could feel complete and finally lay sweaty, out of breath, and satisfied. And now that I have the first feeling of desire, I can’t find the one component that I think is the most important – I simply can’t find satisfaction, even in the fourth climax today.
And like not sleeping, the pain of not being able to find satisfaction is a catch twenty-two. If I find pills, medications, the normal things my doctors prescribe to fix any problem that I have, will it actually cure the problem? And by whose definition of the problem are we trying to fix. Because I want to know this feeling, and I want to search and finally find that thing that gives me the understanding of the poets, the writers, the singers, and the damn beautiful, spectacular moments of nature that I have never been able to fully appreciate.
Part of me wants to stay up all night and try all the adult toys and adult scenarios that I have been reading about for so long. I want to try each position and each handy little device just to finally be able to feel what even my husband takes for granted. I don’t want missionary, face to face sex that starts with one or two kisses and quickly ends in nothing. I want to get sweaty. I want to find out what those authors know. I want to find out what makes people smile with a blush, and secretly stare at one each other from across the room. (By the way, I am not interested in feeling what I imagine porn stars might feel.)
Because if you think sex isn’t intricate to the game of any love relationship, I suggest you spend the next twenty years without any desire to have sex. And I mean none. No beating heart, no erections or wetness, no need for touch and no need for anything but a fast completion so that you can do something else. Feel that for one year, feel that for one day and you will know what it is like. Before this happened I couldn’t even look at a magazine article containing the most desired man on earth and feel anything but a general happiness for the man.
Sex is not only instrumental, it gives a sense of importance to the person enjoying it that you won’t find anywhere else. It gives a person confidence and it can give a person a feeling of self-esteem that isn’t easily replicated. The feeling that you are desirable can not be talked about; it has to be felt. And it has to be felt by both sides of the equation.
Sex is a part of a relationship, sex is a relationship. And I have had no relationship with my body for twenty years, it was just a fat thing that walked around in shoes with holes in it. My body has never worked like everyone else’s. I never felt a man’s happiness in getting to have sex with me for any other reason than they will simply get off; I have known the high of not only bringing someone else to a powerful completion but myself as well. There have never been games or trying new. It has been routine because I have never needed anything else.
But now that I have this new feeling, this new drive, I want so much more. Will it be easy to walk into an adult sex shop and finally shop for a desert to try…probably not. Will it be easy to experience all that my body craves…probably not. Will it be easy to get my husband away from hurt feelings that are twined with sex and need, now so new to me…nope. Will this feeling go away…probably.
But for now, I will continue this somewhat vain quest to not only sleep in my bed but to finally have satisfaction in that bed.