Well, here we go, deep into the places I don’t want to go.
I have a lot of latent unmet needs that will only go away if I meet said needs in some way and yet are nearly impossible to get met as an adult, let alone a 6’1″ 280 bearded dude with a sky high IQ.
And they are all humiliating as fuck. Because they are infantile, or at best, childish. They are the exact kind of think where even asking them to be met opens one to massive and unrelenting mockery that totally invalidates your worth as a man and as a person.
Our taboos surrounding what is age appropriate are harsh a unforgiving, and remain largely unchallenged unlike all the other bigotries.
But what the hell, let’s lance that boil. Here are some of my humiliating unmet needs.
I need to be touched. God, do I need to be touched. My recent two weeks doing the daily IV antibiotic thing made that abundantly clear. I was absurdly grateful for the small amount of human touch when my IV was connected or my dressing was changed.
It felt so good. Like a little warmth and sunshine after a very long winter. Like for once I was a tiny bit alive and vital and real. Like I was part of the human race.
And now that has gone away. Oh well, at least there will be dressing changes via the wound care program.
Further along that line is a need for affection. Cuddles. Hugs. What I really need is for someone kind and understanding to hold me and stroke my forehead and rub the back of my neck and tell me everything’s going to be all right.
And I need them to do it for a very long time. Days, perhaps.
No wonder I am such a cuddlebug as Fruvous. I am trying to meet a profound unmet need via text chat.
It’s nowhere near as good as the real thing, but it’s all I can handle.
And all I can get.
Further along that line is a need for sex, or rather, sexual affection. I need someone to touch my peepee and let me touch theirs. It’s really an extension of the need for touch and I year for it so much it aches my bones.
I need a playdate with a playmate where we can play “mate”.
And I need love. I need someone to love me so hard I can feel it despite the layers of ice around my heart. A love so strong and so loud that it reaches my lonely little planet in interstellar space and lets me know it’s OK to be alive.
Love and all the rest. I need to be valued, accepted, and appreciated. I need to be guided, advised, given a sense of purpose and direction by someone who has my best interests at heart.
And I need to be cared for. Like an infant or toddler. I need someone looking after me so I can complete that stage of my development and move on.
What the fuck happened in my early childhood to leave me with all this?
Something way before the rape, that’s for sure.
More after the break.
Because it’s too hot
Too hot, baby.
It’s too fucking hot.
Or at least, I am. (lick finger, press to hip, make sizzle sound)
The thing is, the temp is not that high. Got up to 27 C this afternoon. That’s not danger zone high. Not like earlier in the summer when it got up to 32 C.
So part of the problem must be me. I have not showered in a while because the nurses told me that I could not shower with this dressing on my wound.
Which struck me as odd, because I had been allowed to do so the previous time I had a nasty infection on my leg, with the caution that I should not let hot water hit the dressing directly but having it run on to there from elsewhere on my body was fine.
But they know what they are doing, I guess.
This means that I am filthy and my pores are severely clogged and I desperately need a long hot bath to get this fucking gunk off me.
I feel glazed. Like a donut.
And i have figured out how I can do it. I feel dumb that it took me this long.
I just need a spare dressing. Take one dressing off, take my power bath, towel myself vigorously, and then carefully apply Dressing #2.
Compounding my feelings of mental vacuity is my remembering that I did that exact same thing many times during the previous infection. D’oh!
Oh well. The thing about the past is that it passed. It’s gone. And there’s not a god damned thing you can do to change it.
All you can do is learn and move on.
I’ll be going to the Wound Care Clinic this Saturday, and I will ask for an extra dressing then, and then make with the bathing when I get home.
I haven’t bathed for a very long time. I’ve been mostly a shower guy ever since I outgrew my childhood tub back in my early teens.
So I will need to refresh myself on the procedures.
Right now, at this moment, my main problem is that heat stroke has completely slain my appetite and yet I really should eat supper.
I have been trying to think of things to order in that might get me excited to eat, but I got nuthin’. Eating seems like an alien and bizarre act right now.
Hopefully, once it cools off some more and I manage to get myself hydrated enough to actually get ahead of evaporation for a bit, I will cool own enough to want to eat.
Otherwise, it will be yet another skipped meal for me.
And I really should not be doing that.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.