Depressed and Horny

We are all affected by our surroundings, no matter how hard we try. Two months ago, I started writing again for this blog. I have several pieces in several stages: from simple one-line ideas, to complete pieces that just need final editing. I wrote and wrote and wrote because I felt it coming from me again. I love writing. I love writing online.

I have been slow to publish what I write because I feel like a fish out of water compared to the amazing writers I’ve known and read for years. Through sex writing, I’ve known the several of the people I list on my blogroll for almost 7 years. (WOW) Many of them tell me to publish what I have to say – that it is relevant and useful. I appreciate such encouragement and know that other sex writers will not crucify me based on how much I do or do not write online.

Then disaster struck. A fire destroyed one of the homes in which my children live. The house is simply gone now. It burned all the way down to the foundation. Thankfully, everyone was able to get out safely. Still, the horror of that night and the resulting stress from it have eaten away my libido – and my desire to write. (It makes me question how much I really want sex or writing that so many things can dampen my spirit so easily.)

Perplexingly, at the same time I am orchestrating a threesome between myself, my partner, and another friend. We have all been together before, so some of the awkwardness is already gone, and it is all fun talk leading to the day. Well, it is supposed to be. I feel like I have a new type of bipolarity: I go from extremely horny when talking about or planning the threesome to extremely turned off when not discussing that specifically. It’s like the stress won’t let anything else through.

I don’t understand how my brain can simultaneously be so depressed and so horny. I believe it is really that I am carrying a lot of depression without giving it its fair weight. The threesome is a way to escape the depression – a way to ensure happiness at least in my sex life. I suppose it does make sense I am using sex to escape depression, but why can’t I use daily sex with my partner that way? Why does it have to be living out some fantasy to feel excited about sex?

Don’t get me wrong: my partner is fantastic at sex. We have a variety of sex, often with a variety of toys. My partner can make me orgasm in under a minute sometimes. My partner loves to please me, so sex is always very pleasing for me. The thing is, I just don’t really want it right now. At least, not the daily stuff that I already have. I want more and going after more is nearly the only thing that turns me on right now.

I am on new-to-me medications that are known to inhibit libido. Why I cannot accept that means me too frustrates me. In fact, the depression on the whole is very frustrating. It’s such a cycle: I’m depressed so I don’t want to have sex; then I’m horny but I don’t want to have sex because my body feels gross (physical depression); then I feel awful that I don’t want to have sex so I get more depressed.

Being horny is cyclical too, but the cycle consistently gets interrupted by the depression.

At some point, I would like my life to look a certain way. At some point I must accept my life is what it is, and that includes being depressed and horny…and frustrated by both.


We waited for so long to bring you to our bed. I think we were often more scared of what you would do than what you wouldn’t. We knew you wanted me, but we didn’t know if you would want him. We couldn’t guess how you would react to his desire for you. So we talked, a lot. We talked to each other about you for months – both in bed and out. In bed, we talked about how much we wanted you there in so many moments.

His favorite place is with his face buried in my pussy (just like you.) Many times I looked down to meet his eyes, and when they’d meet, he’d lift his ass higher in the air. I would see you there, behind him, pounding him into me – taking his breath while I pushed his head down onto me. I came hard on his face, pushing him back into you before you were there.

You had no idea how often he came in my hand while groaning at the thought of your cock in his mouth. Long before we invited you, he was on his knees for me – taking my cock down his throat over and over until he gagged. When I would take him in my mouth, he would stop me and ask me to show him how to do whatever is was he knew would feel good to you. Several times he asked me to get out my cock just to practice for you. I knew his hunger for your cum in his mouth, and couldn’t wait to see him filled by you. He still worried he would be good at pleasing you.

When you sent me a picture of your cock, he begged me to see it over and over. Indeed your cock is nicer than most others I’ve known and he learned to appreciate its beauty as well. I’ll never forget the way his mouth fell open when he first saw that picture – gaping with a bit of drool. His response to your picture was so primal, so hungry. He fed on my cum for two hours the first time he saw your picture. I knew he would do a great job pleasing you with his mouth, and I hoped you would allow it.

That was definitely the hardest part of the waiting – not knowing for certain you would allow him to please you. You had been so indefinite about playing with us. You knew how much chemistry you and I had, but you are not gay, bi or anything other than straight, and this all sounded like a “bi-sex adventure” you weren’t sure you wanted. When you and I were together, I started whispering to you little reminders of what it would like to be with us. You share his passion for eating my pussy, so I while you did it, I reminded you of how nice it would feel to have your cock sucked by him at the same time. You groaned into me, grabbing my left breast so hard it was almost painful.

It took months, but when I finally saw your cock slide into his mouth, I knew the waiting was well worth it.

The Silence

Chances are you know I’ve been silent for 4 years. Silent on twitter, silent on FB, silent on here. Maybe you’ve been silent too.

I met someone. (Isn’t that how it always goes? You know someone and they disappear and you think “Well, so-and-so is hooked up and doesn’t have time to call/write/etc.”) I had the time. I didn’t have my voice. I fell right in love with someone who wasn’t loving me back. It is, to me, nearly one of the most damaging things that can happen in life. When I love, it is FULL of love. Love from me will wash over all your wrongs until they drown – or until they turn into an underwater monster unleashing unknown havoc upon the “us” I thought we were building.

When I started sex writing, it was for me. I was recently free from an abusive marriage and finding my sexuality through writing and online interactions. For the last 4 years, I’ve had plenty to say, but the weight of my unrequited love but depression and anxiety silenced me.

Silence from me is a bad thing. When I run out of things to say, I give up. I don’t want to give up. Staying away from writing is killing my ability to write and is fueling the silence further. It is hard to describe silence when it is loud; when it is its own being with its own force. Writing is one of exactly two outlets I have to combat the silence – the other costs me about $115/hr.

Already I can hear the “why blog?” nag in the back of my mind. The one that reminds me I was never that important of a a well-recognized writer, never one to chase sponsors or the newest product to review. Who is my intended audience when I must blog anonymously to keep the career that pays the bills in tact?

I write for me, to clear my mind of those things which cannot find another place. I also write on the small chance that someone reading my words can identify with what I’m saying and find their own clarity.

Upcoming topics: sex toy reviews. Indeed I did not stop collecting sex toys during the silence. I paid for each and every one that were not gifts. I have some reviews on the burner and intend to shamelessly promote products that work for me. Eventually perhaps I will take on review assignments.

Also to come: sex and mental health. Depression and anxiety are real, daily struggles in my life and have been all my adult life. I never thought they, or their effective treatments, would alter and sometimes halt my sex drive. I’m glad to see the sex blogging community address this very common issue and hope to lend my voice for those who may be silenced.

I am certain I have sexy stories to write again. At a minimum I can write about some amazing sexy times I’ve had in recent years if the depression keeps the stories from coming.

So here I am, attempting to be “back” in a world where others have never left. While I may not be as relevant, I will certainly keep writing. The silence cannot kill me or my voice unless I let it.

Quick Update

(Redacted because it was boring)

I can’t wait to be back to writing more regularly and finally getting these reviews out. I’m just too sick to make much coherent though these days.

Don’t worry: I still see the positive. I’m happy most of the time. I am scared, but all I can do is have faith.

In the mean time, I think I’ll take him up on his offer.


Yes, I’m falling in Love…but I am also:

Suffering severe uterine contraction pain and cramps regularly. The doctor won’t see me until next week. He just keeps calling me in prescription medication. Now he’s saying “it just takes time to heal after removing the IUD.” WHAT?! Does it really now? How does that explain that I had a good 10 days with no pain, then suddenly one night felt in labor pain and spent the next week in painful cramps?

Everyday I am choosing whether to suffer the pain or take the drugs. Neither option allows me to have a good quality of life. I cannot parent my children, drive anywhere, and can only eat if I smoke. I have a constant upset stomach. I am no longer working, and I have had to pull out of dance.

I watch the world from my picture window right now. There isn’t much to see. I’m bored constantly. Boredom does not go well with my naturally anxious manner. I over-think everything. Then I get depressed. I’m certain the medications have at least some hand in these issues.

All of my friends and family are angry with my doctor. They all want to know why he is not treating me. He isn’t treating me because I am on state-funded health insurance. It’s very obvious. No matter why you call, no matter how much pain you are in or what is happening, you cannot talk to a person unless it is to schedule an appointment. The government is paying him to not treat me essentially. The more patients he gets through the door, the more money he makes – no matter the quality of care he provides.

I also worry that I’m obsessing over Tim. I wonder if this falling-in-love feeling isn’t being fueled, at least in part, by my boredom and anxiety. He is really amazing. He likes me more than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s obvious. I like him a great deal too. I know that part is real – I just hope I’m not over imagining the rest.

If you have information or links or articles about severe uterine pain including a) no bleeding, b) labor back pains, c) pelvic floor cramping, I’d greatly appreciate you to post the link. From everything I read, the Mirena IUD I had removed should not have been causing this. It’s been 2 weeks and 4 days. I had this severe pain at the time of removal and it went away. I had 9-10 days of virtually no pain. Then suddenly the pain started all over 2 nights ago. I’ve already had good blood tests and a clean ultrasound.


Peace, love & hope


Is This Love?

Am I falling in love?

Tim, f/k/a/ the Hot Dude, is so amazing. He is kind, funny, loving, sexy, smart, and so much more.

My brain slows down around him. We have these moments where we  just stare into each other’s eyes. His eyes are liquid pools that are constantly dancing. He is hiding nothing in those moments, and nor am I.

He thinks I am a “goddess.” I can’t recall anyone ever calling me that before. He says my “energy” is like a drug to him. He pulls me to him, pushing his face in to smell my hair. He takes deep breathes and then sighs and relaxes against me.

Each time we kiss is better than the last. Our bodies fit together so that we are equal. It is so comforting. In those moments I know that I am safe from heartache.

He has experienced me breaking down about my PTSD issues, and me suffering through some severe gynecological pain. He knows about the bad things in my life, and I know about his. We accept each other. Sometimes it is not easy to do so, but we both want each other so much that we don’t care.

He is 15 years older than I, but it doesn’t seem that way when we are together. He worries about what people will say. I told him not to worry: it’s not the first relationship I’ve had where people stared at me – all that matters is that we are happy and healthy together.

There are these songs about love I’ve been hearing often and I’ve so wished someone would think those things about me. He does. He truly does. I think those things about him too, but I am scared to tell him.

My current internet surfing time is devoted to finding the right quotes, pictures, music to share my feelings with him.

This all feels crazy. As if I am just losing my mind. Maybe I am, or maybe not?

Post Script 4.5 years later: Not love. He was telling at least 4 of us all that same stuff at a time – and we we all friends. Turns out he’s not sweet, he’s just stupid.

Oh What a Night

Porn watching and masturbating. Seriously text flirting with a very Hot Dude I’ve known for several months. We’ve always wanted each other. Our mutual attraction energy is palpable at times. We talked for 2 hours last night. (More about him later.)

A flirty text exchange with the Coworker involving me getting spanked and taken from behind.

Great conversation with a great guy who I think could have potential life-mate qualities.

A booty call from Christian involving lots of oral, PIV and anal sex. Many orgasms.

First webcam mutual masturbation with my lust object. Very satisfying.

Hot Dude went out with friends, but wound up texting me begging me to come over for our first sexual contact.

An amazing local woman contacted me on a dating site.

I feel amazing. It’s awesome that all these people want me after having suffered Christian’s rejection. That doesn’t really hurt any more. I feel liberated.

Post Script:

I did go over to Hot Dude’s house at about 2:30am. Damn he is so fine. Unexpected in some areas (longer than average, but somewhat thinner), but whew. That was amazing & much needed. I spent 12 hours with him. He’d never seen a woman squirt before, so I taught him  how to make me ejaculate with his fingers. He was floored. He is a pussy-worshiper: something I’ve been needing for over a year now. Yum.

Update: I am SINGLE

Christian was a horrific ass to me, but it was highly expected. He hurt me immensely with what he did. I still love him, but I clearly see he isn’t meant for me. I’ll probably still fuck him a couple of times, but that’s about it. Seems such a pity to say that, but oh well.

I am already looking forward. I’m going to find the love of my life. Only the best will be considered. I will be picky to the end.

Coffee on Friday? Yes, please. Dinner on Saturday – sounds great!

I feel liberated. I suppose that’s what I truly wanted all along.

On the physical health side: Today was a better day. The pain is much less intense than the last two days. I suppose the further I get from the doctor prodding my sensitive parts the better I will feel. I have another appointment in 9 days for more poking and prodding.

On the whole, I feel good.

I do miss him, but I’ll never miss the anger he displayed to me repeatedly.

I Need Your Hope

Today I had my IUD taken out. The removal and following exam were excruciating. The pain was as severe as when I was in difficult labor.

I cried and moaned – something I never do. I’m always sensitive at those visits, but I usually am able to breath through the pain. Not today. The pain was so intense I could barely catch my breath.

Then came the best part: The doctor told me the IUD was fine.

It only took me a moment to realize what that means: it isn’t the IUD causing all the problems. (Although I highly suspect it was the initial culprit.)

The doctor reviewed my symptoms again and told me he thinks I may have something like/endometriosis. This news was very unexpected to me. He wanted to do an immediate transvaginal ultrasound, but he knew there was no way I could stand it. I was gasping for air, tears running down my cheeks. He had blood work drawn  and I made a return appointment for next week.

For several years I did not want to have more children. Then life circumstances changed, and although some times haven’t been the greatest, I’m at a much happier place.

Now that may not be possible. I am somewhat devastated. I do realize things could be fine. If you have a moment to send a positive vibe I could certainly use it.

I’m taking serious antibiotics and pain medicine until next week.

My question for you:

Do you have experience with endometriosis? Do you know of positive outcomes you can share? I need more hope than I have right now.

Peace and love,