Okay not to make any grand sweeping statements, but I'm never going to find anyone!
Silliness aside, here's my dilemma: there are three people who I want to make happy time with. All three are committed in one way or the other. One stimulates me mentally, mostly, the other two stimulate me physically. Of the two that stimulates me physically, one makes me feel emotional, the other, feral. I feel like all three like me in some way, but I'm terrible at reading signs so they all could just be incredibly friendly. Of the three, I'm only afraid of losing one, but I'm afraid of getting my butt kicked by the other's partner (not literally though). And I'd be afraid to break up the relationship of the last one. I only want to be in a relationship with one of the three The other two spell disaster from a mile away. Let's break it down with letters!
Person A: Incredibly smart, stimulates me mentally in ways that only professors have been able to interest me, incredibly honest, open-minded, adventurous, spontaneous, wonderful sense of humor, experienced, settled, strong, could hold me down both mentally and physically, BUT has penis (which I'm not too big on at the moment).
Person B: Loving, sweet, funny, trustworthy, patient, sensuous, addictive, gorgeous BUT we're friends.
Person C: Innocent in a way that drives me crazy, kinky, sexual, open-minded, experimental, drives the blood straight into my pants at a moment's notice, BUT has a partner who I wouldn't be able to look in the face afterwards (unless I got permission beforehand).
I really couldn't imagine myself having sex with A because I can't get over the mental block of him having a penis. I really want to be with a woman at this point in my life, but if I ended up with him I would still be incredibly happy. He still has a nice body and I could learn to love his penis, I guess. I could definitely see myself lying in his arms and talking all night, but I would only want to do this if we got into a relationship. It would kill me to only be friends with him and be his cuddle buddy.
I go back and forth with whether I want to sex up B, because I enjoy her company more than I want her sex. The problem is that she is very seductive and I'm only mortal. She activates all of my senses. Part of me really doubts that she does it on purpose, but it still makes me want to jump her anyway. She would make both a good fuck buddy and cuddle buddy. I'm a bit confused about the logistics of our relationship, because she's definitely more butch than I am, but I also think that wouldn't be that big of a deal at all if we ever did anything. The problem is that I love having her as friend only. I don't know what sex (or cuddling) would do to our relationship and I'm pretty afraid of asking.
I definitely want to have sex with person C. I want to have wild, biting, scratching fun sex with C, but I actually like and respect her partner. I would want to wait until I got full permission before I did anything, even though I already know that the answer would be no because C's been pretty bad lately. So fun time with (near) strangers is out of the question for now. I'm probably not going to see her for a while (meaning until next week) anyway so I should be fine. Even when I do see her, I'll make sure not to get her alone unless I've talked to her partner by then.
I'm uber concerned with sex right now because I haven't had any (even bad sex) for over a year and I really miss feeling other bodies. Besides that, I'm out of school so sex has been on my mind a lot. I've spent most of these last two days getting off. Anyway, I'm more interested in intimacy than just sex so that makes all of this harder. I feel bad because I've been using my friends as outlets for affection, but I'm not sure how far I can (or should) take it. Really, I just want full access to someone's body who consents to me being there. That would be awesome.
But I'm tired now so I'm going to stop. Good night, folks.
~R.
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
The Little Orgasm That Could
I can't orgasm anymore! Well... not completely anyway.
I'm on a new medicine that has a particularly nasty side effect of decreasing sexual desire and/or the ability to orgasm. Guess which of the two I got? It may actually be both, but I wouldn't be able to tell. I don't think I've ever had a particularly high libido. Before now, I would masturbate or have sex because it felt good or I was bored or I needed to go to sleep or concentrate. I would get excited randomly, but it didn't happen enough for me to notice a difference if it slowed down.
I tried to orgasm last night and it was such a strange experience. It was like all the signals that my neurons were supposed to fire off didn't quite make it to my brain. The sensations were weak, but I still knew I was having them.... It was a ghost orgasm! I tried again today with a little more success (possibly making a few people a bit uncomfortable in the process). The stronger surges definitely hit, but it quickly faded if I didn't keep concentrating.
It's definitely weird, but I'm going to be on the meds for at least a month to see how they work and if my body finally adjusts to them. Some women can regain their orgasms after a while on the stuff so there's still hope. If not, most people seem to get back to normal after they stop taking them (though it may take a while). Either way, I'm not too worried. If anything, this seems to be the perfect time to experiment. I still get sensations and the stronger ones are enough for me to feel so maybe I can figure out how to have stronger orgasms. Probably not, especially with what I'm working against, but I'm going to try anyway. I have nothing to lose.
Also this is the first post of April!
---Rogue
I'm on a new medicine that has a particularly nasty side effect of decreasing sexual desire and/or the ability to orgasm. Guess which of the two I got? It may actually be both, but I wouldn't be able to tell. I don't think I've ever had a particularly high libido. Before now, I would masturbate or have sex because it felt good or I was bored or I needed to go to sleep or concentrate. I would get excited randomly, but it didn't happen enough for me to notice a difference if it slowed down.
I tried to orgasm last night and it was such a strange experience. It was like all the signals that my neurons were supposed to fire off didn't quite make it to my brain. The sensations were weak, but I still knew I was having them.... It was a ghost orgasm! I tried again today with a little more success (possibly making a few people a bit uncomfortable in the process). The stronger surges definitely hit, but it quickly faded if I didn't keep concentrating.
It's definitely weird, but I'm going to be on the meds for at least a month to see how they work and if my body finally adjusts to them. Some women can regain their orgasms after a while on the stuff so there's still hope. If not, most people seem to get back to normal after they stop taking them (though it may take a while). Either way, I'm not too worried. If anything, this seems to be the perfect time to experiment. I still get sensations and the stronger ones are enough for me to feel so maybe I can figure out how to have stronger orgasms. Probably not, especially with what I'm working against, but I'm going to try anyway. I have nothing to lose.
Also this is the first post of April!
---Rogue
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Depressed
Today seemed normal. Woke up at the crack of noon, ran errands, went home, checked out some books, took care of some really important business that I've been ignoring, but the whole time I was choking back depression. I've been like this for the past week or so and it sucks.
It sucks because I have moments of happiness that are so bright sometimes it's blinding. There's so much I want to see and do and experience, but when I'm depressed I'm paralyzed in the same thoughts. Or thought. It usually hinges on the idea that "no one actually cares about me," which of course if a complete lie. But my depressed self asks, "Well if it's a lie, then why are you always alone?"
I spend more time alone than I'd care to admit. Sometimes it's refreshing, I need to recharge, but a lot of the time it's unwilling. No one ever invites me to just hang out at an apt/room/dorm/etc. to watch t.v. or a movie or to play a game. I only hear from people who I've called or messaged first. Except for one friend, who waits until I've posted some depressing status on facebook to remember that I exist.
The people I call "friends" all have other people and groups they hang out with and talk to much more frequently, but I'm usually, and very pointedly, left out of these dealings. Hell even when my "best friend" hangs out with me, it's always separate from any of her other groups. And she loves to remind me how I'm not in one group in particular. Granted I left that group on my own, but only because I felt like I wasn't welcomed there anyway. Apparently, I don't fit anywhere. It's like everyone already made their friends and I just missed out on that.
This makes me feel like shit. My siblings don't deal with me unless they need something or feel I'm not doing my daughterly duty to our mom, whom they've left me to care for emotionally. And more often than not, my "friends" call on me because they need someone to take them out of their humdrum daily life, or because they need a ride, or because no one else will listen to them, etc. There's always a reason. It would be nice to have a friend or two who talked to me just because. To update me on their life and who also want to hear about mine. No one has asked me "how was your day" since The Poet, about three years ago. That's fucking pathetic.
Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm doing something wrong with my life. Maybe not. Whatever the case, it sucks.
It sucks because I have moments of happiness that are so bright sometimes it's blinding. There's so much I want to see and do and experience, but when I'm depressed I'm paralyzed in the same thoughts. Or thought. It usually hinges on the idea that "no one actually cares about me," which of course if a complete lie. But my depressed self asks, "Well if it's a lie, then why are you always alone?"
I spend more time alone than I'd care to admit. Sometimes it's refreshing, I need to recharge, but a lot of the time it's unwilling. No one ever invites me to just hang out at an apt/room/dorm/etc. to watch t.v. or a movie or to play a game. I only hear from people who I've called or messaged first. Except for one friend, who waits until I've posted some depressing status on facebook to remember that I exist.
The people I call "friends" all have other people and groups they hang out with and talk to much more frequently, but I'm usually, and very pointedly, left out of these dealings. Hell even when my "best friend" hangs out with me, it's always separate from any of her other groups. And she loves to remind me how I'm not in one group in particular. Granted I left that group on my own, but only because I felt like I wasn't welcomed there anyway. Apparently, I don't fit anywhere. It's like everyone already made their friends and I just missed out on that.
This makes me feel like shit. My siblings don't deal with me unless they need something or feel I'm not doing my daughterly duty to our mom, whom they've left me to care for emotionally. And more often than not, my "friends" call on me because they need someone to take them out of their humdrum daily life, or because they need a ride, or because no one else will listen to them, etc. There's always a reason. It would be nice to have a friend or two who talked to me just because. To update me on their life and who also want to hear about mine. No one has asked me "how was your day" since The Poet, about three years ago. That's fucking pathetic.
Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm doing something wrong with my life. Maybe not. Whatever the case, it sucks.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Confessional: Project
I want to start a creative project. No, actually, I want to FINISH a creative project. I have so many in my head, but nothing ever gets off the ground because I have the attention span of a small child.
Technically, I'm working on what I hope to be a graphic novel, or a mediocre webcomic with a modest following. The last time I spent any significant time on it was at an airport in Utah two months ago. I made a lot of headway on it and was really enjoying the story line. I think I treat myself to creative stuff. When I know I can relax, I'll start taking and editing pictures or writing bad poems and decent short stories. I've beat it in my head that all my creative stuff is a hobby and that's it. It won't feed my travelling addiction or keep me in the latest bookstore. Right now, I'm thinking about all the class work I need to get done, but instead of doing any of it, I'm sitting in my room procrastinating like hell on the internet because I don't want to lead a group project.
God. How much time have I wasted procrastinating on the internet when I could be procrastinating on something I love to do?
Meh. I blame everything on being terrified of indulging myself and having a near manic desire to fit in. I lose myself in the things I like: sex, work, talking to people, people, writing, whatever. It scares me because I lose control, but I also like that I lose control in those things. When I'm in that head space nothing else matters, but it scares me because I can't control it, but... well, you get the picture. I don't know why I do that. Maybe I'm holding myself up to other people's standards? I mean getting good grades means nothing to me right now, but I still have this strange notion that I can't do badly this semester (or I can't do badly on this assignment, etc.). It's the same thing with careers. I feel like I should be going into one of those "successful" careers of the last post, even though I'm also fighting against it. Whatever it is, I still have a tendency to deny myself the things that I want most (cue memories of Lilly).
The raging desire to fit in is one of those stupid ticks I got growing up. There came a time when I started to feel distinctly different from my family. I was too young for my siblings, too old and far away from my cousins, and I saw my nieces and nephews infrequently. Shy in elementary. Awkward and occasionally picked on in middle school. By high school, I pretty much lost all interest in my peers. I made a lot of friends though and we all bonded over music, art, our interest in sex, and our mutual awkwardness. But I was always much more interested in talking to my teachers, even though it made me feel a bit awkward (which is all still true now). It didn't help that the adults in my life all treated me like some golden child the whole way through. They loved putting me in front of crowds, make me lead things, or give speeches. This made the closest of my friends jealous of me and everyone else put me on a small pedestal.
Needless to say (but I'm going to anyway), I hated it. Stuff like that still makes me a bit uncomfortable (when my prof looks at me to speak up in class, when my manager gives me the keys to something because I'm "responsible and can handle it", commanding the attention of a room, leading anything), but I still end up being in those positions. I'm the kind of person who thrives on love and affection. It kills me to have people put me at a distance or set me apart. I hid my past from a lot of the friends I have now and I still get pointed out as "intelligent". All that being lonely stuff is probably what led me to the depression. Oh and I'm also really distrustful of people when they tell me I'm good at something.
Blurg. See, if I wasn't fucked up enough to actually finish something, I'd be just fucked up enough to be an awesome artist. Ciao loves.
---Rogue
Technically, I'm working on what I hope to be a graphic novel, or a mediocre webcomic with a modest following. The last time I spent any significant time on it was at an airport in Utah two months ago. I made a lot of headway on it and was really enjoying the story line. I think I treat myself to creative stuff. When I know I can relax, I'll start taking and editing pictures or writing bad poems and decent short stories. I've beat it in my head that all my creative stuff is a hobby and that's it. It won't feed my travelling addiction or keep me in the latest bookstore. Right now, I'm thinking about all the class work I need to get done, but instead of doing any of it, I'm sitting in my room procrastinating like hell on the internet because I don't want to lead a group project.
God. How much time have I wasted procrastinating on the internet when I could be procrastinating on something I love to do?
Meh. I blame everything on being terrified of indulging myself and having a near manic desire to fit in. I lose myself in the things I like: sex, work, talking to people, people, writing, whatever. It scares me because I lose control, but I also like that I lose control in those things. When I'm in that head space nothing else matters, but it scares me because I can't control it, but... well, you get the picture. I don't know why I do that. Maybe I'm holding myself up to other people's standards? I mean getting good grades means nothing to me right now, but I still have this strange notion that I can't do badly this semester (or I can't do badly on this assignment, etc.). It's the same thing with careers. I feel like I should be going into one of those "successful" careers of the last post, even though I'm also fighting against it. Whatever it is, I still have a tendency to deny myself the things that I want most (cue memories of Lilly).
The raging desire to fit in is one of those stupid ticks I got growing up. There came a time when I started to feel distinctly different from my family. I was too young for my siblings, too old and far away from my cousins, and I saw my nieces and nephews infrequently. Shy in elementary. Awkward and occasionally picked on in middle school. By high school, I pretty much lost all interest in my peers. I made a lot of friends though and we all bonded over music, art, our interest in sex, and our mutual awkwardness. But I was always much more interested in talking to my teachers, even though it made me feel a bit awkward (which is all still true now). It didn't help that the adults in my life all treated me like some golden child the whole way through. They loved putting me in front of crowds, make me lead things, or give speeches. This made the closest of my friends jealous of me and everyone else put me on a small pedestal.
Needless to say (but I'm going to anyway), I hated it. Stuff like that still makes me a bit uncomfortable (when my prof looks at me to speak up in class, when my manager gives me the keys to something because I'm "responsible and can handle it", commanding the attention of a room, leading anything), but I still end up being in those positions. I'm the kind of person who thrives on love and affection. It kills me to have people put me at a distance or set me apart. I hid my past from a lot of the friends I have now and I still get pointed out as "intelligent". All that being lonely stuff is probably what led me to the depression. Oh and I'm also really distrustful of people when they tell me I'm good at something.
Blurg. See, if I wasn't fucked up enough to actually finish something, I'd be just fucked up enough to be an awesome artist. Ciao loves.
---Rogue
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Sleepy Post: Playmate
Tonight sucked.
I'm mad, horny, frustrated, slightly depressed, and tired. I miss playing with another girl. I miss my senses being filled up with her, hands on fire, biting soft lips until she whimpers. I miss running my fingers across her hair, playing with softness, making her sigh or giggle. I miss sliding my fingers into her. I miss her wetness and feeling her muscles tense and tighten. I miss listening to a girl moan and orgasm. I miss her mouth on me. I miss being teased and played with. It's been about four years since I've had that and a year since I've had sex. I feel like a virgin again.
I've only been with two girls physically (and one girl who lived out of state and had a particular talent for phone sex). The first time I ever messed around with a girl, we were in high school. I'll call her Lilly. She could turn me on with a look or a lick of the lips (her mouth was magical), but it never went far because of a lot of random things. I was pretty reserved and afraid of losing control back then, she was afraid of being gay, we never had enough alone time, our mutual friend was also in love with her...
My ex (and first actual) girlfriend, who I'm going to call Chubbs, was the second. She sucked at sex and that's me being nice about it. She was a liar, incredibly insecure, and borderline psychologically abusive. I tried a lot of different things with her, but none of them ever felt particularly good or right. After our first time together, I think I was incapable of ever feeling anything good from her again. Even though I knew that at the time, for whatever reason, I still took her back. Ugh.
I guess I took the year off to purge myself from her. Went in and out of therapy, got some shiny new piercings, stopped blaming myself for her, started to accept myself again, other stuff. And now I miss being intimate. I don't think I'm particularly ready for another relationship and I've never been big on sex with strangers (or near strangers), but I'm definitely ready to play again.
I'm mad, horny, frustrated, slightly depressed, and tired. I miss playing with another girl. I miss my senses being filled up with her, hands on fire, biting soft lips until she whimpers. I miss running my fingers across her hair, playing with softness, making her sigh or giggle. I miss sliding my fingers into her. I miss her wetness and feeling her muscles tense and tighten. I miss listening to a girl moan and orgasm. I miss her mouth on me. I miss being teased and played with. It's been about four years since I've had that and a year since I've had sex. I feel like a virgin again.
I've only been with two girls physically (and one girl who lived out of state and had a particular talent for phone sex). The first time I ever messed around with a girl, we were in high school. I'll call her Lilly. She could turn me on with a look or a lick of the lips (her mouth was magical), but it never went far because of a lot of random things. I was pretty reserved and afraid of losing control back then, she was afraid of being gay, we never had enough alone time, our mutual friend was also in love with her...
My ex (and first actual) girlfriend, who I'm going to call Chubbs, was the second. She sucked at sex and that's me being nice about it. She was a liar, incredibly insecure, and borderline psychologically abusive. I tried a lot of different things with her, but none of them ever felt particularly good or right. After our first time together, I think I was incapable of ever feeling anything good from her again. Even though I knew that at the time, for whatever reason, I still took her back. Ugh.
I guess I took the year off to purge myself from her. Went in and out of therapy, got some shiny new piercings, stopped blaming myself for her, started to accept myself again, other stuff. And now I miss being intimate. I don't think I'm particularly ready for another relationship and I've never been big on sex with strangers (or near strangers), but I'm definitely ready to play again.
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