Ready. Set. Sail!
So…um…I need help. I’ve been hiding this from my blog for a while. I guess you could say I was shielding it from the deep dirty scum that could taint it. But that’s not the point of this blog is it? It’s not supposed to be a squeaky clean Las Vegas restroom complete with marble door stalls and a butler who holds hot towels for you. No. It’s a dirty highway gas station bathroom filled with glory holes. I may spruce it up with pleasant graphics but the truth is going to be laid out bare for all to see. I represent the people. That’s my sacrifice. My reputation for the truth. So here goes the toxic spillage. Try to wade carefully lest you get your socks melted off.
I’m not kidding around. This is a really personal post for me and I would really like some good feedback as to some things that people who have been through this before have done to fix it.
I’m at the end of my rope. All things aside, I really screwed the pooch when I cheated on my husband a year ago. No duh! He didn’t deserve it. No one does. And I’m eternally sorry for that. What I’m referencing is something I noticed back at the beginning. I noticed that right before I started cheating I was having problems in my marriage. I wasn’t getting the sexual attention I wanted. For some reason, my husband was too tired to do anything for me. What I found out not too long ago was that he WAS hiding something that was taking away his ability to get hard for me (I don’t want to go into detail). Finding this out crushed me and it lead me to believe that this whole shenanigan could’ve been stopped and prevented!!
But then I would’ve never started The Bipolar Compass and you guys would’ve never met me! Oh how good things can come out of bad choices!
So…in some alternate universe…my husband confessed early on about his issue and we reconciled with couple’s therapy and fixed our sex life and then lived happily ever after.
But wait! That’s not what happened…or what’s happening. Here’s the deal:
My husband wants sex with me (truly). He has forgiven me for all my mess ups. He is able to focus on me 100% now. But…he is too stressed to initiate. So we have been trying stress relief techniques that help calm him down. Meanwhile, I go without sex for up to a month or more, horny and impatient. I can’t say or do anything to speed things up because it’ll pressure him and he can’t get in the mood when he is pressured. So I try and distract myself. When I’m Depressed, things are easy. When I’m Manic, things get rough.
I start out by doing things that I know are wrong but make me feel good because I need that hit..like opening up the sex chat window and browsing around. I don’t talk to anybody but I get a feel for the conversations and what is going on. Slowly, I start filling my head with “Talk to someone. It’s innocent” or “Have a little fun. You deserve it.” So I do. I start chatting. I end up talking with a guy who lives near me. We go back and forth about meeting up. Decide on a time. And then my mania comes down enough for me to smack myself upside the head and cut him off. I feel like scum. My husband finds out via my blog. He has a harder time wanting to be intimate with me.
Round and round we go until we all pass out and die of cholera. Cholera, right? Isn’t that the song. You know,
Ring around the rosie,
A pocket full of posies
We all fall down.
That’s a metaphor for cholera or something. Idunno. Whatever! Geez Jess what the actual fuck are you blabbing about?! Shut up! OK…OK…fine. Lord!
Anyways, back to my story. So I feel bad for letting my sex cravings get the best of me. I really hate the chatting but I feel like once I’m manic I can’t stop myself. Compounded with the fact that I’m not getting fucked makes it more tempting. It’s like an itch I need to scratch. So I’ve been trying other ways to scratch the itch:
My husband left for a business trip last week and I decided to take my ring off and go out to a bar by myself. It was a quiet little Sunday night and I was feeling really good about myself. I walk in and was greeted with a huge smile by the bartender. He asked me what I wanted and handed me a menu. I thought I’d take my time and get something nice to treat myself. After all, I needed it. I ordered a nice dry glass of red wine and he poured it and handed it over to me.
The entire bar was dead. Aside from an older gentleman sitting across from me on his laptop focused intently on his writing, there wasn’t hardly anyone else there. It was something I was hoping for; somewhere quiet for me to relax that’s not my house.
“Anything you wanna eat?” asked the cute bartender.
“Yeah I think I’ll have this thank you.” I replied. He grabs my menus from me and hastily gets my order in. The wine is slowly dripping down my throat and giving me a warm, calm sensation.
“So you come here often?” the cute bartender asks.
“Yeah probably about once every couple months…or so” I answer.
“I thought I recognized you. You live around here?”
“Yeah actually. A few blocks up the road. I love this area.”
“Oh me too. It’s nice.”
“Yeah it’s nice and quiet. I love this area.”
A few minutes pass with me head first into my cell phone, catching up on all the WordPress blogs I missed when I notice the bartender standing right next to me. I look up and notice he’s placing my food down on the bar in front of me. He looks deeply into my eyes and says very softly, “Is there anything else you want that I can get for you?”
I immediately blush. I stare deep in his eyes and manage to gulp out a “Nope. I’m good.”
For a minute there, I felt like something was going on. I then proceeded to to keep reading on my phone while enjoying my food and drink. Every once in a while I’d look up to see him while his back was turned. The rest of the night played out like that. He would smile and chit chat with me and I’d turn all shades of pink. It was fun and harmless. The thing that did make it hard to leave was when I asked for the check.
“Oh…you sure you don’t want another glass of wine or anything? It’s Sunday. Gotta let loose and celebrate.”
Man that was tempting. But who knows how much farther it would’ve gone. I said no and asked for the check and left.
I guess the whole point of this is that I want to stay with my husband. I do! But I feel like whenever I get Manic I slowly tear it apart. I don’t know if that’s just me or my hypersexuality when I’m Manic. But I don’t like the way my life is. I’m so unhappy. I’m not sexually attracted to my husband anymore. I haven’t been in so long. It’s hard to think that it’ll come back.
So my questions are these:
Does sexual attraction (that passion/drive/lust) leave a marriage? Does it come back?
If I love someone to death and don’t want to leave, how can we reconcile our lack of chemistry?
Is it normal to crave other people while married? (I still haven’t stopped thinking about Mark – I had yet another dream about him last night and it’s been 5 months of no contact)
Can couples truly recover from an affair?
Please help me. We’ve tried everything from sexy self-help books to individual therapy to couples therapy to spa vacation in Las Vegas to toys AND NOTHING has worked.
I don’t want to give up on us.