Monday, November 16, 2015

Sex? Ew.

Since moving to Colorado in March, my sex drive has been non-existent.  Like, I don’t even think “non-existent” does it justice.  Is it possible for a sex drive to be in the negative?  Because, if so,...yeah.  At first I chalked it up to how sick I was due to the change in altitude and my gallbladder-from-hell.  But, hi, I moved here in March and it’s now November.  And it seemed to be getting worse, definitely not better, even as I started improving otherwise.  I didn’t want to be touched.  At all.  I didn’t want to even think about being touched.  Nothing turned me on.  I couldn’t even fake it if I tried.  I masturbated maybe once a month.  It was just absolutely ridiculous and, though I’ve had a few bouts of low libido in the past, it was never anywhere near as bad as it was now.

When Matt and I first met, I was as insatiable as always.  I’d been whoring it up like crazy the five years prior and having constant access to someone who turned me on so much made sure my sex drive was even higher than usual.  Then I moved here.  And everything changed.  It got progressively worse and worse.  I didn’t even want to think about anything sexual, much less do it.  And, god, I felt so shitty about it.  On so many levels.  My relationship with Matt was getting more and more strained because I couldn’t explain what was wrong or what I needed in order to improve it.  I suddenly didn’t want to be kissed or touched or fucked.  I wanted zero sex and zero kink.  It was the sexual equivalent of a bait and switch!  I went from insatiable perv to frigid within a few months!

Matt told me over and over that he loved me no matter what.  That even if we never had sex again, he wouldn’t love me any less.  He’d marry me even if he knew we’d never touch again.  He just needed to know what was happening and what I needed from him.  We had so many conversations that ended in tears.  I kept telling him I was comfortable doing x, y, and z and then not do x, y, and z even when I, intellectually, wanted it to happen.  The problem was, I’d tell him what I wished I could do and not what I was actually capable of.  And that just made things worse because I was creating expectations and making promises that I could never meet...even when I desperately wished I could do so.  We reached a point where, in tears, I finally said he couldn’t expect anything from me sexually or kink-wise.  And, god, I felt gutted and was terrified to finally say the words out loud because 1) I didn’t want to believe it was true and 2) I was just so sure he’d leave me once I admitted I couldn’t currently offer him anything in that regard.

Sex and kink were such a big part of our lives and not having it was really painful for both of us.  He blamed himself and was sure he’d done something wrong, something to make me no longer want him.  I kept telling him, over and over, it’s no you, I don’t want to fuck anyone.  I hadn’t see a fuck buddy or been touched by anyone else in months.  Hell, I didn’t even touch myself.  But the change was so sudden and so drastic that he couldn't help but feel he was to blame.

Over the years, my sexuality gave me so much power and so much confidence that I felt shattered without it.  Even though I was the one saying no to everyone, I still felt ugly and undesirable because of it.  I felt as if I’d lost so much personal power and so much control over my life.  I was having hard bouts of depression and suicidal thoughts.  This fucking body that’s been a source of so much pain my entire life couldn’t even bring me sexual pleasure anymore.  It took me so many years to finally acknowledge and embrace that I was an explosively sexual being and it felt as if I were regressing back to that place of self loathing.  And, god, I didn’t want to go back.

In October I saw how unhappy both Matt and I were with the situation and I realized, okay, this is seriously not going to just get better on its own.  I honestly thought it would.  Initially I chalked it up to my severe elevation sickness, then my gallbladder attacks, then just my bodies general shittiness but it had been six months since I’d really felt any sexual desire and that’s just fucking ridiculous!  It went from just-give-me-some-time-and-it’ll-pass to okay-holy-shit-this-is-a-serious-issue-that-needs-to-be-dealt-with-NOW.

I thought about the last six months and what changed since moving here.  I started going through my medications and the only thing that fit timeline-wise was a change in my Neurontin.  Neurontin helps my nerve damage/pain and my dosage had been tripled since I moved here.  And research shows that a decreased libido is a hugely prevalent side effect.  Because, hi, when a medication treats nerve pain, it doesn’t always know exactly which nerves to deaden and which to keep active.  So to stop the crippling pain elsewhere, the medication just shut it alllll down.

The next week I saw my pain specialist and told him what happening and how it was negatively impacting my life.  I told him it wasn’t a side effect I could live with.  No problem, switched me over to Lyrica.  That was about a month ago and, as of last week, my sex drive is back with a vengeance!  Hell, that’s an understatement!  The weekend was a damn cavalcade of sex and kink!  I’d missed it so fucking much and it felt so incredibly good to have that part of myself and our relationship back.

Moral of the story?  Don’t be embarrassed to talk to  your doctors about medication impacting your sexy times!  A fucked up libido/inability to orgasm is the side effect of so many damn pills.  It isn’t your fault and your doctor exists to help you live the best life you can.  So, speak up, damn it!  It isn’t always easy but it’s definitely worth it.

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