To The FemmeMobile! Away!











{April 16, 2010}   In which I use entirely too many em-dashes

Hey, guys!

Boy, it seems like I’m making huge leaps forward with my sex issues, which I’m quite proud of myself for. I still have a few things I’m working on (okay, more than a few, hush now), but I’m doing better. 🙂

The other day, though, I had a major issue. I really wanted to blog about this yesterday, when I was really bothered by it, but life (and a ten hour workday) happened, and so blogging didn’t. Damn work, getting in the way of my blogging! 😉

Anyway. I’ve told some of you about the fact that I get nightmares (no, I haven’t specified them — I’m not ready to, though I’m at a point now, thanks in large part to DK, that I’m willing to think about talking about them with someone). Well, Tuesday morning I woke from a bad dream. Not even really those awful waking nightmares I used to get; just a bad dream. Disturbing, but not horrific. I didn’t, for instance, wake up wanting to puke. This is improvement! (It also isn’t surprising I’m having nightmares right now — generally the subconscious rebels when you start major changes. Such as working through issues!)

I shook the nightmare off and went on my way. I didn’t even think it had really stuck in my mind until that night. (I was wrong about that. I realized later I’d spent the day ripping out my eyebrows and I shredded the skin on the inside of my upper lip. But I didn’t notice at the time.) Anyway, that night Q and I were making out and she went down on me, and I just couldn’t get my brain to stay in my body. Every two seconds I was thinking something else — nothing horrible, but things like, Hmmm, that’s a nice tattoo she has, or Gee, I wonder if this plot twist would work in this story, or Was that Bisquit? It was just frustrating, because it was happening constantly. I kept chastising myself and dragging my mind back to the present. And then at one point my brain skewed sideways, but instead of some random thing it was a moment from my nightmare. I yanked my brain back and it took me a few minutes to really relax again. My thoughts kept going places, but not to the nightmare. I realized there was likely no way I was going to orgasm, but I kept arguing with myself, thinking if I could just focus then maybe I would, because it did feel really good, and maybe maybe maybe. And then my brain skewed into nightmare twice more — once I caught myself saying, “Um–” and cutting off before I finished whatever that sentence from my nightmare had been (because for just an instant I was there, and saying things that I’d heard in my dream, and let me tell you how that freaked me out).

About this time Q sat up and looked at me, and I sat up and called it quits. Interestingly, when we switched roles and I took over semi-topping, I was fine. Not about to get off, but I stopped swinging into weirdness and was able to enjoy myself. (This had more issues I will probably talk about in a minute. I have LOTS to talk about right now.)

Even writing this out two days later, I’m getting upset again. Before anyone tells me that I’m human and it’s okay to have these problems, let me just say I already know that. However, I’m still feeling frustrated with myself.

I’m frustrated with myself for not realizing sooner that I needed to call it quits. I’m frustrated because when I did realize that, really, the good-feeling was NOT overpowering the growing anxiety, I still really struggled to say anything — in fact, I waited until Q sat up, when I could have said something earlier. At that point my anxiety was growing by leaps and bounds, and the old thought patterns were firmly in place: What if she gets mad that I don’t want to keep going? What if she gets mad because I should have said stop before because she was wasting her time? What if– and so on. Now, it doesn’t matter that even in that moment I could tell myself that Q wasn’t going to get mad. Not even, “I don’t think she’ll get mad” — she and I have talked about enough of this stuff now that I can say with 100% certainty that she wouldn’t get mad or upset. AND YET, I couldn’t stop the tapes from playing and freezing me, anyway. I’m frustrated with myself for being unable to move past that fear faster, for not being able to completely trust myself and Q even when I know I can trust Q (if not, obviously, myself. If I could trust myself, I wouldn’t panic and freeze while I was telling myself to stop panicking and freezing. :(). In fact, as I sit here typing, I think it’s safe to say I’m angry at myself for that.

I’m frustrated with myself for not being able to keep my brain from traveling off, even as I realize that I just didn’t have the emotional wherewithal right then to do that, that the nightmare had left me more rattled than I realized. I’m still frustrated that I couldn’t train my brain into focusing on what was going on, rather than the stress in my head.

I’m frustrated with myself for being frustrated with myself, because a big part of me sits here and goes, “You’re human. It’s okay if you don’t get past all this stuff right off the bat. Look how far you’ve come! Cut yourself some slack! It’s okay to backslide a bit on occasion, and it’s okay to have moments where you’re not the strongest person in the room. It’s okay.

I’m also frustrated with myself for letting my nightmares affect me that much — even as I realize I don’t have any control over that. *wry smile* (Q said last night on the phone — laughingly, but I think also seriously — that she kept waiting for me to have a crazy side. It made me think about a conversation I had with my older sister the other day, about always waiting for the other shoe to drop even when things were good — and it made me laugh, because I look at stuff like this and I think… well, this is my crazy side. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop — to see my crazy side — and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop — for her to realize this is too much crazy.)

So, with all this, I spent yesterday being twitchy and over-tired and slightly weepy. Plus I had more weird dreams. (Last night, thank god, I got some really good sleep and today I feel balanced again. Still frustrated with all of the above, but balanced.)

Along with everything else nightmare-wise, I had more frustration with myself. So there I am, straddling Q, thinking she is ohsofuckinghot and having very definite ideas of what I want to do, and… unable to do them. I could come up with a list of reasons why I don’t do them, but if I start getting down to the fear behind those reasons, it all boils down to a fear of rejection. I’m afraid I’ll do something, and she’ll say no. No, wait. I’m afraid I’ll do something, and she’ll say no because she’s appalled, disgusted, or annoyed with me. Which… I can’t actually see Q doing. And that fear doesn’t have to do with Q or anything she’s said or done (everything she’s said and done has been non-judging, confidence-building, and awesome), it has to do with it being another person and everything I’ve learned.

I did, eventually, get over this, get on with things, and was able to do exactly what I wanted. Enthusiastically, even. I suppose I should be proud of myself for getting past it and enjoying things, but instead I’m just annoyed with myself, again, for pausing in the first place and having to talk myself through fear to move forward. I should be proud of myself that I was talking myself through fear, instead of panic, but… There’s my perfectionism raising its ugly head. If I can’t constantly move forward, with no backward slides or even pauses, and if I can’t constantly make a forward leap every time sex comes up, and if it’s not a significant forward leap, I must be a failure. *rolls eyes* Seriously, my peeps, does anyone want to trade issues for a little while?

All that said, I had fun the other night. I shook things off and enjoyed myself, and even with all that stress it was still less stressful than the first few times I had sex. So, yay, improvement! I just… well, I just wish, and if wishes were horses… It doesn’t help that in books and movies characters get over things so much faster! My friend Nezu said something kind of profound the other day. I was talking to her about issues, and how I could see where some of these had come from and it wasn’t any big traumatic event, it was just lots of little things piling up and piling up on top of each other. And I said (paraphrasing, here), “I don’t know how to undo it.” And Nezu told me, “The same way it was done. One little thing at a time.” And I thought, Yeah, that’s true. But you know, just because it’s true doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Sometimes, I look at 40 or 50 year olds who are still unstable, constantly running from one cure to the next, and I’m terrified that will be me. I don’t really think it will — I’m already more stable than that, and getting more so every day. But I still have that fear.

Man. While writing this stuff helps me sort my head out, it does drain me, too. I have one more post to write on safety on my personal blog, but it might have to wait. Maybe I’ll get more work done first. And watch Sherlock Holmes, which Q bought for me. 😀

J

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1) I love em-dashes.

2) I love this post.

3) Can you please come to San Francisco for a day and we can talk about this in person? And just have fun gallavanting? Because I have way too much to say about all of this than will fit in a comment.



JB says:

I would love to come to San Fran and talk about this in person and have fun gallivanting. 🙂 I will be around next Saturday, which is unusual for me, if you’re interested… ?

J



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