That one med I quit taking because I couldn’t stay awake — I can’t remember the name, because I was asleep. My med organizer is basically a candy dish — at least that colorful, but not as delicious.
Pharmaceuticals keep me (mostly) sane. And alive. I’m grateful for that. Mostly.
I don’t ever miss wanting to die. I don’t miss the self-loathing that is a byproduct of the guilt of the feeling of wanting to die. I don’t miss the hopelessness, the frustration, the certainty that everyone knows how inept I am (they’re just waiting for me to fall on my face so they can say, “I told you so”).
I do miss being horny. Like HORNY HORNY. I miss feeling the sexual fire smoldering in that place where sexual fires smolder — be it a real or imagined actual location.
I admit, some of this might be age-related. But whether it’s age or medication effects or Mercury in retrograde, it’s bullshit.
And by bullshit, I mean BULLSHIT.
I don’t have all the answers, but I do have some suggestions. Some of them are a little graphic. You’ve been warned.
1. Lotion-y and lube-y things.
I like this one. I don’t know what’s in it. The ingredients look innocuous enough, but it is more than it appears. OK? Just trust me.
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2. Dude, porn.
I have Feelings about porn. I wonder when I see porn if anyone was harmed or coerced into making it. So I try to source it in a way that I hope is ethical. The Lady Cheeky on tumblr is a good place to start, but I’m not going to link it because I don’t want to set off everyone’s work browser warnings.
I don’t know what those say, that’s just a guess.
Anyway. Porn. Watch it with your partner. That’s fun. If watching other people do the dirty isn’t arousing, well, sorry. That’s really unfortunate.