Everything is set for Operation Zopiclone.
Julian kindly halved some pills for me and I have not had an unusually sleepy day so far so I am out of excuses to avoid trying it.
Now comes the hard part : overcoming the fear.
Fear that comes from the other times I have experimented with medicated sleep and ended up sleeping far too deeply and intensely and end up waking up feeling absolutely terrible from my sleep apnea.
And the effects of getting caught up on months of missed REM cycles all in one night.
Basically, I dreamed too hard. Which figures.
Since those incidents, I have, understandably, been afraid tp try again. And this is no mere hesitation. This is the sort of deep down animal fear that comes from having an experience so painful and awful that your entire being becomes determined to do whatever it takes to make sure it never happens again.
That kind of deep self-programming is hard to override no matter the reason.
I do have a weapon against the fear this time : the fact that I was taking Zopiclone in the hospital and I slept quite well when I was there.
Which is ironic given how noisy hospitals are even at night.
Whatever happened to “Quiet : hospital zone”?
Doesn’t count for people inside the hospital, I guess.
So I will keep that excellent hospital sleep in mind when nerving myself up to take my half of a Zopiclone later tonight.
Hopefully this will be yet another case of my making a big fuss over nothing and everything will turn out fine.
But if not, I will at least have learned something.
I swear, one of those post-medication mornings, I felt so bad I am surprised I survived it.
Anyhow. More after the break.
More smexy talk!
Yes, it’s back despite popular demand. Fru talks sexy on his blog.
You’ve been warned.
Had yet another marathon jack off session. Around an hour and a half this time.
That seems to be the norm lately. I get all fired up viewing my beloved pornography and just keep going until I am totally out of steam
Well when you never ejaculate, it’s hard to know when to stop.
I get the feeling that, in addition to the well known antipathy between antidepressants and orgasms, I am also not getting the stimulation I need to make the weasel go pop from the same old things.
I need some fresh new perverted interest to freshen things up.
But I can’t think of one right now. I will come up with one eventually but right now I am drawing a blank.
Perhaps not enough blood has returned to the big head from its long trip to the little head for me to think straight yet.
You know what I mean.
Of course, it could be that what I really need is a playmate. But my massive social and sexual issues make that very hard to get going.
No doubt I could find a willing partner on the gay hookup apps. That’s not an issue.
But the sheer quantity of paranoia and mistrust I would have to overcome makes letting someone get that close to me makes it a daunting prospect indeed.
I wish I could do casual sex. But I can’t. Sex will always be extremely intimate to me and if the intimacy isn’t there, neither is the sex.
For me, sex is two (or more) souls reaching out to one another i the dark.
And that makes a quick roll in the hay with a stranger impossible.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.