Going through the motions…

Sex… I’ve had a lot of it. More than most people I know. Evidently I should be quite good at it right? 

Sadly I’m not.

For a major part of my life I’ve had things done to me while I’ve acted asleep. This means I felt things, had mind numbing experiences and climaxed all while pretending to be fast asleep and not reacting.

Ironically I grew up thinking I’ll have sex only after marriage. And despite living in with my boyfriend during college, i never had sex with him. But then life took an interesting turn and I crashed. Desperate to please and prove to my new boy friend that I love him… I had sex. Amazing carefree sex. For a while.He then hurt me, insulted me, videotaped me and embarrassed me. In a lonely desperate horrible night I hooked up with his friend who then became my husband. The one guy who actually cared for me. But by then I split.

She had sex. She was confident. She could flirt, toy, tease, seduce and make you scream with happiness. 

I slept.

Now with therapy and self therapy… I’m only me. There is no she. When someone touches me or talks to me, there is noone for me to turn to. To become.

I don’t know to have sex. I don’t know how or what to do. And I can’t watch videos! With what I’ve learnt from movies and what I can with following instinct… I do my best. I moan and react. Scream and clench. But I think I’m just acting.

I wish I had someone much older… much more mature… who would teach me, guide me, hold me when I cry knowing that it’s not about him, push me gently to explore… to make love. I wish I knew love.


15 thoughts on “Going through the motions…

  1. That was very powerful. I wonder if the she, or some part of she, is still you? That maybe somewhere in between there is some truth. Regardless, I gamble that if you haven’t already found the answers, I think you’ve found the right questions. Again, thanks for your thoughts.

    • Thank you. 🙂 Questions are all I seem to have off late.
      I sincerely hope she still is part of me and i just need to find her. Because my current boyfriend hooked up with a passionate, fun crazy girl after who after years of a platonic marriage had gone berserk. But now I’m just … me. And though he understands… I don’t know how long he’ll be ok. He is human.

      • I don’t know if it’s common to all of us with BP, but everyone loves the hypomanic episodes. For awhile, actually, I even thought that was me. When I used to see the psych, I always rated my mood and behavior against that super social, bridge jumping, scuba diving, drug addict. And you know what, to this day, it is so much easier being that guy than it is to be my very boring self. I guess there’s some comfort in being a crazy bastard. But being normal? Shit.

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