Ever wondered how to go from hypersexual to asexual in 3 easy steps? Well, wonder no more, my friends. Teh Bunneh has the answer, from bitter experience.
1.) Lose your mind.
2.) Lose everyone who's ever meant anything to you.
3.) Get medicated and watch your desire to get laid go down the toilet.
See? Now wasn't that easy?
All jokes--even lame ones like that one up there--aside, I have seriously lost pretty much all my inclination toward sex. I'm not sure when or why or how it happened, but it did.
Ok, well, here's the thing. In the abstract, I would totally say that I would like to have sex. In theory, it sounds like an excellent idea. But in practice? Ugh. No, thank you. Please keep your disgusting paws off of me.
Obligatory TMI warning: I don't know that the problem is my "sex drive," whatever that is, because I don't have an issue with masturbation. My vibrator gets its normal amount of use, you know? But the very thought of someone else touching me turns my stomach. I've become very standoffish--almost Asperger's-like. I've always been a little uncomfortable with being touched by most people, but I've gotten worse. I don't even want my friends to hug me. Just...please...no.
This has been going on for awhile, but what brought it to the forefront of my mind was a dream I had a few nights ago. My dreams are extremely vivid nowadays, and they torment me all night, every night. I can remember 5 separate ones from last night, for example. AND I TOOK A SLEEPING PILL! Needless to say, without the pills, my sleep quality is complete and total shit. Which is probably at least partly why I feel like hell lately.
Anyway, the other night, I dreamed that I had sex with this one dude I used to know. Actually, it was the guy my mother tried to marry me off to when I was, like, 16, but that's a whole 'nother can of worms I'm not going to open here. And, no, I never actually had sex with him in real life. Even though I was forced--ok, blackmailed--into dating him for nearly a year, I never even kissed him because...well, because I didn't fucking want to. And I hadn't yet reached the age where I fucked men because I didn't know what else to do. *Eyeroll*
Ok, I'm off track here. I'll leave the explanation of that situation for another day.
The point is, in my dream, I fucked this dude. Not only did dream me cry after it was over--and made him do it doggie style, so I didn't have to look at him--but also real me, when I woke up, literally felt nauseated. I expect that if I could've woken up enough, real me would've cried, too.
Not most normal people's reaction to a sex dream, hmm?
It wasn't just the fact that it was that guy, either. I mean, I'm sure that was part of it. But, like, back in April when my friend L., whom I fucked off and on from the time we graduated high school until about 3-4 years ago, came over, I rebuffed his advances, too. He came and sat next to me on the couch and threw an arm around me, and I kept scooting farther and farther away, until the arm of the couch impeded my progress. Then, I made some lame excuse about being tired and went to bed. Alone.
What. The. Fuck?
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I wish I *had* fucked him. I'm glad I didn't. This is just out-of-character behavior for me. I mean, I've got the numbers of at least 4 men in my phone whom I could call anytime I wanted, and they'd come over and fuck me if I just asked. A few minutes on the Internet would dredge up quite a few more who are willing. New ones, even. I just don't want to. Like I said, the thought of it makes me feel ill. I don't even get on any of the sex/kink/hookup websites anymore. Well, I still get on my message board, but that's not to hook up with people. It's just to chat with my old friends. I pretty much avoid the sex stuff there.
I'm not sure what happened. I haven't had sex in nearly 2 years. Haven't done anything, period, in over a year. Have I trained myself out of the desire? Or is it something else?
A part of me thinks that I've finally accepted how self-destructive that impulse is. I've realized that it's not healthy, and it damn sure doesn't make me happy. I don't like being a slave to an overwhelming, driving NEED that pushes me into doing shit I don't even want to do, things that I know are horrible ideas, things that are bound to cause more problems than they'll ever fix just to shut it up. Maybe I'm tired of that particular demon having that kind of control over me, so I've finally broken its hold on me? I don't know.
And, too, maybe I'm sick of the way that so many people have used that awful demon inside me to get what they wanted. Some of them didn't realize how exploitative it was, so I don't blame them...but some of them did. It wasn't the desire for them to fuck me that drove me to it. I was being driven by something bigger and stronger than me, and I turned to sex in DESPERATION to quiet it. Nothing about that is healthy. I don't fault the ones who didn't know. I do fault the ones who knew and didn't care.
I'm also sure that part of it is the fact that the sex demon inside ruined my relationships with the people I loved the most. My desperation to shut it up made me do horrible, stupid, destructive things that hurt other people even more than they hurt me. So every sexually-tinged thought is tainted with that knowledge, whether consciously or subconsciously, so I'm sure that's not helping matters, either.
It's just as well, I guess. At least I'm staying out of trouble.
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