[CONTENT WARNING : Tonight’s entry is about various aspects of my sexuality. If you do not want to read very intimate (but not too explicit) details of myself as a sexual being, I recommend following this link to a silly video I made. ]

[TRIGGER WARNING : Child sexual abuse. ]

In pop culture terms, I don’t have a sex life. Those require at least two participants. But this doesn’t bother me, mainly because I have never known anything else.

Oh, I am no virgin. I have messed around with other dudes a bunch of times, and golly it’s fun. But I have never had sex on a regular basis and the times I did, it just… doesn’t go well.

For some reason, when I get into a genuine sexual situation, I just freeze up inside and go completely passive. It’s almost pathological. It is like suddenly I am encased in a block of ice. Horny ice, but still… ice.

And it’s not that I suddenly don’t want sex (although that did happen once). I am as eager as any aroused male. But this other process sets in and I am suddenly not real fun in bed.

I am pretty sure I know why. It’s because I was molested as a kid. (Who knows, maybe that’s why I am gay, too.) And when I say kid, I mean I was three or four years old. Stuff that happens that young sinks in very, very deep.

And what did I do to cope with being molested while it was happening? I did what billions of abuse victims have done and just went into total existential denial mode. This isn’t real, this isn’t happening, I can take my mind away.

And so I unfocused my mind all the way. Imagine turning the focus on a camera lens all the way in one direction, so that all you see is the vaguest of blurs. That is what I did to escape what was happening to me.

I sometimes wonder how much of my current mind fog was born that day.

So I have had sex with others, but it’s never been any good, really. Not for me anyhow… I have made some dudes pretty happy and I really enjoy that, both sexually and just as a thrill, but for me, not so much.

I just freeze up, just like I did when I was molested. I can feel my mind wanting to just fog out and it takes a lot of willpower to stay in the moment. And obviously, that does not lead to being an electrifying lover. I’m barely even there.

This is a big problem. I am hoping that if I ever get into a committed relationship with a wonderful man, I will be able to open up and trust him enough to be completely relaxed with him and my sexuality can blossom that way.

I missed a lot of opportunities when I was a teenager. Opportunities I was just too clueless to recognize as someone coming on to me. I was a right idiot.

That means that I never had the chance to fumble around, experiment, learn the ropes, and all that jazz when it was age-appropriate. When I was that age, I considered myself to be impossible for anyone to even like, let alone want to bone, and therefore my sexuality was practically an abstract concept.

Certainly, my homosexuality did not matter much in the scheme of things. All it did was make the sort of pornography I wanted somewhat harder to find. I honestly thought that pornography and masturbation were all I could expect out of life.

So in a way, it was quite cruel of the universe to make it so that when I finally did get access to other horny dudes, I found I could not really function.

I have never really connected with my sexuality as a result of all this. It and I have always had an arm’s length relationship, pun belatedly intended. It’s not something I even think about much. I have never had a really strong libido, possibly because I suppressed it so much when I was younger.

Add antidepressants to the mix, and the outlook becomes even more dire. SSRIs like Paxil have the side of effect of lessening libido, and that is unfortunate but it’s not hard to deal with, because no longer wanting something doesn’t hurt.

It’s like not being hungry (something I have dealt with too). Sure, you ought to get hungry and eat on a regular basis, but not being hungry is not actually actively unpleasant.

So when I was on a very high dose of Paxil, I had no libido to speak of, and that was okay. If I thought about it, I missed the energizing warmth of sexual desire, not to mention the pleasure of satiating it, but I didn’t think about it much.

But now I am on a much lower dose, and so my libido is there. I find men on TV attractive. I get turned on by suggestive situations (and those are everywhere if you have a perverted mind lime mine.) My balls get full and sore.

The antidepressants, however, still make a contribution : they make it very difficult for me to “get off”. I have to let the pressure build for a week before it is worth my time to even try to give myself some relief. Output just plain cannot keep up with demand at all.

So I live in a perpetual state of sexual frustration. I can’t say that it bothers me a whole lot.

What bothers me is how little it bothers me. I feel a very deep sense of something that should be there. But the thing about horniness is that it naturally leads to action, and I have been suppressing all emotions that lead to action for a very long time. My commitment to stasis is hardcore down to the bone, it seems.

Still, I hope to blossom some day, with the right dude.

Maybe it’s just casual sex I can’t do.

Seeya tomorrow folks!