Ready. Set. Sail!
(Real Mania Trigger Warning!!!)
I’ve been really quiet lately and people are starting to wonder if I’m OK and what’s going on. So here is the deal. I’ve been going through a rollercoaster of emotions lately. I can’t even begin to tell you how frustrated, scared, angry, depressed, and confused I’ve been. Some days I can go for a walk and smell the flowers. Other days I just lay in bed and cover up in the blankets.
Blah, blah, blah…you kinda figured that right? Where is the juicy meat of the story?!?
OK calm down. Don’t get your panties in a bunch (unless you’re into that sort of thing then by all means BUNCH UP THEM PANTIES!!).
Can I be honest? Like brutally honest? Good. Cause I’m about to be (Fair warning: I’m in an emotionally vulnerable state and not all of this can or will be construed as 100% truthful or legally binding. Reader discretion is advised. Snarky or mean comments will be retaliated with harsh words.)
I hate my life. Like really don’t enjoy my existence. I’m in an unhappy marriage with a husband who has deliberately held off intimacy for years to pursue his own interests. Then when I try and find sexual satisfaction from another man, I get called out. I was starving people! And the fact that I was hypersexual and wanted to hump everything that moved really didn’t help!! It’s not fair that he can just claim ignorance while I get blamed full-force for my behaviour. That’s not fucking cool! I have needs too!
I begged him over and over to love me the way I feel I deserved. All the times he was like, “Oh I’m tired honey,” were the times he was off doing his own thing wasting valuable energy and time on other women. Fuck him! So I had to sit back and be the good little wife and wait until my husband was in the mood (aka not exhausted) and allow him to please himself over me.
This is all a load of horseshit! Steaming fucking pile! Why in God’s name did I put up with his lack of interest in me for SO LONG??!!?
You know what. I deserved my seven minutes in heaven. I did. And I enjoyed it. I felt alive for the first time in YEARS! I had a man who wanted me and my pleasure more than anything. He’d take his time on me, making sure every part of my body was taken care of. Letting me get off as many times as I wanted!! Yeah!! I’m allowed that.
But now I have nothing. A sexless marriage. And when I say sexless…I mean crappy. I mean my husband doesn’t get me off anymore. Not for the past year. I almost always have to picture Mark (The Snake) to orgasm. Yeah. I know. I know it wouldn’t have lasted much longer. That’s not the point. The point is I got what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted.
Some days he is all I think about. All day long. Reminiscing about how fun it was to be tossed around and grabbed and kissed. God I get lost in thought. The urge is so damn tempting. Imagine being touched and kissed and pleased by someone who craves you. Who can’t get you off his mind. Who’d do anything to rip your legs open and explore. I want that heart-pounding, leg-shaking, high. I want to feel my skin electrified. I want to get lost in lust and feel good again.
There have been about 20 times I’ve come this close to contacting him again. I’d tell myself I’d beg for forgiveness and try and work it out. Then I stop because I don’t want to run back into the arms of a man (I really should say boy) who treated me like shit.
So now what. Well I’ve been planning a trip to go clubbing. I won’t say when or where because my best friends read this blog and I don’t want to tip myself off. But it’s happening. I’m going to get my life back.
And fuck Sexaholics Anonymous! They don’t help. It’s madness. All of us sitting together in a circle boo-hooing our cravings and desires. We are encouraged to tame our desires and suppress who we really are like caged animals! Society tells us to feel ashamed of our actions. So we obey like cowards.
I’ll tell you something right now; I’m not sick. We use the word “disease” to talk about our sexaholic urges. I’m telling you right now, honestly, I feel like I’m betraying my nature.
I’m bisexual. I don’t have a problem with the way I feel about women. It’s not as intense as my feelings for men but it’s there. There have been times I had an uncontrollable urge to smother girls I’ve been around. I’m good at pleasing them. I’ve kissed, touched, and pleased over a dozen women. Heck. My first kiss was a girl back in 5th grade. But I tried suppressing that part of myself due to religious pressures for a long time. And it hurt because I didn’t know how to control it. This feels the same. Is that shocking?
I don’t feel ashamed or guilty other than the fact that I’m supposed to. Yup. You heard that right. I think it’s who I am. Suppressing it feels wrong! It doesn’t make sense. But I drudgingly work through the 12 Steps because that’s my only option if I don’t want a divorce and live alone the rest of my life because men won’t trust me.
So that’s where I’m at. I’m living this lie. I don’t want to leave because there have been SA that have found peace and “sobriety” to be comforting. There is something though…in their eyes…that feels… disingenuous. There was a guy a couple weeks ago that was 10 years sober and lost it by sexually acting out. I wonder what made him cave.
I’ll stay in my little cage and behave. That’s all I can do really.