Tag Archives: identity crisis

Sextacy, drugs, and rock and roll…aka TMI

This post will probably be TMI.  Just a forewarning.

Last night my husband bought an herbal supplement called Sextacy.  I guess because it’s supposed to be “legal ecstasy.”  Well I’ll be the judge of that.

Why do I need such a pill?  Because a fun side effect of assloads of medication is a nonexistent sex drive.  Not low but literally not there.  This is a huge blow to my husband who years ago married a borderline nymphomaniac.   Off my medication I’m always horny plus he got with me back when I was on all the shit that makes you hornier.  Sex was an all night event.  Twelve, fourteen hours at a time.  I guess I used it all up before the age of 25.

In the last two years I’ve gone from thinking about sex every second to only thinking about it negatively.  Mad that it exists because I have no desire and I’m waiting for him to divorce me over it.  When it started to hurt because of the Mirena my brain shut the last of it down where I couldn’t even lubricate.  I was using Lidocaine gel daily because I was so dry 24/7 it hurt.  Yeah, like I said, TMI.

Since I’m leaving town for a week tomorrow and it is my least favorite holiday this week, sex was on the agenda.  I talked myself up all week but at the end of the day I felt a sense of dread.  How depressing.  Sex used to be the thought that got me through the day.  Now I’d rather sleep or play online.

My husband mentioned this herbal stuff, of which I am of course skeptical, especially given my past love of the name origin.  Nevertheless, I took it because I couldn’t deal with how much I didn’t want to have sex anymore and was desperate.

It really actually kinda helped.  Maybe my brain placebo effecting me again, but who cares?  The weird thing was it relaxed me enough to want sex but didn’t help at all in my body’s ability to actually do so.  I felt kinda tingly and got the feeling as if I was lubricated but was not.  Again, TMI.  Sorry.  I have those KY Liquibeads so I added one of those to the mix and everything kinda clicked.

It was nice not to dread something I used to love so much.  Stupid pills are $20 a dose (double the price of it’s namesake that works a hell of a lot better when not mixed with bunk ingredients) though.  For once a week that’s $80 a month just to do something I should be able to do anyway.

When’s prescription women’s Viagra going to come out so I can get a similar effect cheaper??  It’s not fair to make twenty plus pills that kill a sex drive and not one FDA approved pill to bring it back.  That’s the stuff that ruins marriages right there.  Yeah, he can deal with my mood swings.  Can he deal with celibacy?  Probably not.

Compared to the real deal, Sextacy is the Tylenol version of Morphine, but if it even numbs the headache it’s worth taking right?  So that’s kinda how I feel about it.  It won’t allow marathon sex of yesteryear but it will allow sex and that’s better than I was doing.

It’s a constant source of depression for me that I’m so opposed to sex these days.  I feel like I’m waiting for my husband to cheat or leave me over it.  I know if I was still super horny me and he didn’t want anything to do with me I’d be either sad or pissed and wouldn’t deal with it as long as he has.  He’s a good guy for dealing with all my shit.

In other news, when I get back from my business trip I’ll be officially doing my new job and I’m freaking out a little bit.  Until next week I feel like I’ve been playing house at work.  Sure, I’ve said for years I could and can do this job but now that I’m a week away from being expected to do it I’m worried I can’t.  It’s just me being crazy me, but it’s scary anyway.  What do I do if I can’t do the job?  I have no backup plan because I’ve spent years arrogantly thinking I would be a superstar.

My husband says I leave a window open for failure, which isn’t exactly accurate.  I worry about failure, but I don’t really allow it in my head as a possibility.  I can’t and won’t fail.  I won’t let myself even if it means working 80 hours a week again.  I’ll work myself to the ground before I admit defeat.  It’s just how I am.  But silently I do worry “what if.”

Everyone at my new office loves me already (little do they know!).  My boss seems to think I’ll be great.  My old coworkers think I’ll be great.  Inside I feel like a six year old playing dress up in a suit every day.  It doesn’t mesh well with my normal more “alt” look.  Glitter, fishnets, tattoos, and piercings don’t scream “corporate America.”  Because I feel I don’t look the part I worry that maybe I’m not.  It’s dumb but I always think someone is going to look at me and somehow see who I am when I leave work and say “I’m not working with this girl” and my client base will run for the hills.  It hasn’t happened since I entered the corporate world years ago, but you never know.  So now I’m un-gauging my ears because maybe diamond earrings will make me feel more professional and thus more capable.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think I’m awesome at what I do.  There’s just a little part of my brain that wants to disagree with me all the time and the stress of upcoming work change is making it talk louder.

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