Working toward healthy sex life

Peace, y'all--

I've been lurking for a few days, and I find the stories and advice comforting. My story is long and complex, but I'm working to solve a lifetime struggle with DE.

I'm nearly 51, gay, and deeply and contentedly married for 20 years. I was catastrophically injured at the age of seven, and between the ages of 8 and 16, I was bullied relentlessly by other, older kids. I began M at 12, of course, like so many others. I had no access to P, but I DID have access to one of the most dangerous books ever published, certainly for gay men, "Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex, * But Were Afraid to Ask".

That book was my introduction to what it was to be a sexual being, and to be gay. It presents graphic and dark stories about bathroom sex, dangerous and criminal encounters, unstable and short-lived relationships between men, fetishes, explicit how-to's, and more. As an intellectual, introverted gay boy, I absorbed it all, and that was the basis for my fantasy life.

So that was the soup: deep emotional pain about my body, terror on the school bus, fascination with a new universe, and no one to talk to about it.

I came out in college, and within two weeks, I fell for another freshman. For a month or so, we spent long afternoons cuddled up in hugs and sharing secrets. He was a fundamentalist Christian, to boot, so he denied being gay. It was confusing, but he loved me, and I was starved for that kind of attention. To this point, the physical contact did not involve getting undressed or contact with genitalia or even kissing. And that was fine with me: I dreaded what he would think of me naked, and I wasn't ready for that, anyway. Yet one day, he said he wanted to go further. I said I didn't want to be undressed. He said that his mother always said that one could do anything in pants that had zippers. I finally said that considering all this, I didn't see how he could say he wasn't gay. And everything changed, like a bomb blast. God saved him in that moment, he said, and I fell apart.

It was THEN that the relationship became sexual. In a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving me, we had a one sided sex life. He only touched me once, and only briefly in a lame effort to jack me off. The rest of my romantic life has been shaped by that experience.

So to leap across the decades, I've never had trouble finding men who would love me, and none ever cared a fig about my body's scars, but I have never had a "normal" sexual relationship. I can't cum like other lovers. I have been more or less able to O infrequently and then almost always under my own hand...

...unless it was connected with the fantasies built on the book. So M in public places, strangers on the beach, phone and cyber, and eventually, P.

I met my husband in a sex chat room once, and it's really a beautiful story, but my addictions to dangerous behaviors continued well into the marriage. Finally, with the help of therapy, diagnosis of depression, and Zoloft (which put a huge damper on my sex drives and made it almost impossible to O) all of the outward expressions basically subsided. But With the medication, I continued to rely on P (just for a half hour or so, say) to help me get off. But I cut myself off completely from sex with my husband, which had been rare to begin with.

So we have never had a sex life. Deeply loving, fun, fulfilling in all sorts of ways, and even emotionally intimate, but no sex at all.

Until now. A year ago, shortly before my 50th, I realized that I didn't want to live the rest of my life without sex with my husband. I found a therapist who worked with me for months, and then with both of us for more months, and then last week something miraculous happened. Without telling the story about how it happened, the walls that had been isolating me from him collapsed in an instant, and suddenly, we were having sex, loving and fun, powerful in every way...except that I can't reach O, not even alone. And I've lost all of my connection with how it all used to work: I told him all my secrets, which dismantled all my coping strategies.

My head feels very strange: I have no pull toward P or M by myself, and everything feels wonderful. It's just not building to a climax. The blue balls are painful, but so far, I'm not descending into angry frustration like I used to, once upon a time.

So that's why I'm here. How do I recover the last stage of normal and healthy sex with my husband, something I've never experienced? (Rhetorical) If any of you have suggestions about this, I'd appreciate them. I want to be able to cum--or not--to have that experience of being carried over the top. I'll be patient, but I'm eager.

But I'm also telling you this story because something I never believed would be possible--that my whole brain and its relationship to sex COULD be rewired--indeed HAS happened. I offer it as a sign. The last week and a half has been wild and strange. I feel like I have a brand new boyfriend, but without any of the uncertainty about whether it will last. My body hungers for him, but it's different--whole body, but not frantic and not centered in my groin. I can go from not being particularly “in the mood” to fully engaged without any more stimulation than a kiss.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I don't have anyone else to tell about it, because our no-sex marriage has been our own secret. I can't tell anyone why our time in the cabin was quite so wonderful.

Stay strong. Keep faith. Wholesale reworking the brain is possible with enough support and hard work.

 

I'll check in this morning. It's been fifteen days since my life changed. My intimate life with my husband is wonderful. I have achieved an O twice, under excessive stimulation, once by myself in the first week, and once with him. I'm in a bit of a wilderness, confusing but not frightening.

I take great comfort from this community.

Today he goes out of town for two nights. In previous years, I had looked forward to this time because I could "settle in" with P, to give my body some relief from the monotony of a few minutes here or there to achieve O, but today, I know that won't help me, even if I went back to it. (I'm fortunate in my particular situation that PMO doesn't even work anymore.)

So tonight I have dinner with one of our friends, who is also "baching" this week (meaning her husband is also out of town), and tomorrow I have dinner with another couple, not to avoid being alone, but because it will be fun.

No progress yet on the basic struggle, I'm continuing on.

 

An update for this weekend. I had a bit of a crash into depression, when my husband got home and last night. It was a bit too much pressure for our new life pattern. I slept a long time last night, though, and things came around again, same results: wonderful feelings and fun together, no O. I will be patient. It's hard to know how much of my difficulty is because of medicine and how much might be complexes buried so deeply, I have no idea what they are.

I have had no PMO for 19 days.

 

I'm on a new one called "Trintellix," which is much better than Sertraline. It may just not be "better enough." I really appreciate that you know what it's like, though.

 

That's really funny! Lol!

 

And BTW, I had my first erotic dream in forever last night. Of course, it was about resisting P, but I almost came in my sleep-- I could feel it building and almost spilling over the edge. Wow. I'm a little worked up this morning, but I think my excitement about just having the dream at all will be enough to resist the temptation.

 

I'm leaving today to go out of town on business. On previous trips, I'd have been looking forward to it--just as I had always looked forward to my husband's trips--because I would be able to spend some "quality" time, trying to assemble a satisfying sexual release with PMO. Because it was always a major "assembly." Today it's completely different. I'm NOT looking forward to going away, but not because I'm "afraid" of any relapse (although perhaps I should be), but because it's been three weeks or so that I've had no release at all, and I'm in a quandary about how just using MO on my own would be--if it would even work (which is now in doubt), if it would make me feel better or worse, or if I'm now turning this whole question into its own sort of "knot" in my psyche. We were too tired last night for a "good-bye try," if you know what I mean, and he was up early this morning, so no cuddle time then, either, and so now I'm feeling pent-up and frustrated. It's not quite the same thing as being "horny." It's more like a deep pressure, aggravated by a smoldering frustration, with a touch of resentment (with the general situation) that I won't have another chance until the weekend.

Also on previous trips, I would have been afraid for myself in the airport or on the plane, since those were powerful fantasies of mine, and I'd worry whether I could withstand the temptation I couldn't avoid. Fortunately for me this time around, there's a gaggle of us from work on the same flights, both to and from. So that's a tremendous relief.

Our therapist wondered whether we might try "long-distance sex," texting or video or something, in order to maintain our loving, erotic connection. That feels too much like PMO before, since my issue is DE under another man's touch.

And there's one final issue. Last week, after my husband came back from his trip, we had some serious difficulty in "reentry." I had a sudden depressive attack, anxiety, and it was just generally too many expectations on both our parts. I'll have been gone one night longer than he was, which suggests to me that it will be that much harder to reconnect at the end.

(I'm just journaling--not seeking any advice--in case my stories are helpful to you. I know they're helpful to me.)

 

It's really different being in this hotel room tonight. I can feel in my head where all the pressures used to be, and I'm slightly tempted, but frankly, I'm just happy to be where I am, in this new life stage, and it's enough. Thanks and good night, All...

 

Going home today--yay! It's the first time I've been happy to be going home, not because I was tired of being away, but because I'm looking forward to intimacy with the hub.

I'm preparing for the potential reentry depression, which I had when he got home from his trip last week, preparing to let it pass over me and through me, without getting stuck in it.

Have a good day, all--

 

I arrived home last evening and had a lovely time with pizza in front of the TV with the hubby. I was very patient because he really likes when we sit together and enjoy each other's company. I like it, too, but as I've said recently, we've had twenty years of this lovely sitting together, which are a staple of our life. But, at my nudging, we went to bed early, and it was good--really good, but just the same as it has been: It felt wonderful, and that was it. We were both tired and went to sleep without climaxes for either.

This morning, we woke early, but because he's off at a meeting today, we just went into the daily routine without a lot of cuddle time in bed. Now, I'm at home alone, remembering a period much earlier in life, when every day was an uncertain series of "windows of opportunity," when I thought I'd have a chance to reach O and some relief. In those days, my randy bf would jack off sometimes on his own, and I'd be afraid that it meant there'd be one fewer window opening that day. The windows would open and close, but they were never reliable: Sometimes I'd reach O, and sometimes not (of course, he always did...), and then I'd be waiting again for the next.

The times in between are hard. It's like some SciFi story, in which you know when the next window will open, but you have to wait and be ready for it when it does. I don't want my life to become that routine of waiting and hoping, but I'm not sure what to do about it. I know that if I chose, I could go take a shower right now and spend some time working up, finally, to O, and achieve some release from the pressure. But I've promised myself not to do that because I want to have that release with my partner. So I'm sort of jammed up, not motivated to do anything, really, and thinking about when that next window of opportunity will open.

And I ask myself, why? After all, I have only managed two orgasms in the last four weeks, neither because of complete abstinence nor lack of trying. I am so tired of a lifetime of not being able to cum...Please, I want this to go away. I want my body to function like other mens' do...

 

I decided to go the other route. I couldn't think. I was slipping into depression. I was wandering aimlessly around the house. So I gave in.

I feel much better physically, although I'm not sure how I feel about whether it constitutes a "stumble." I know my husband will be pleased--he doesn't like for me to suffer in the frustration, and I'm sure he won't feel excluded. My therapist has said that in fact, research shows that more regular sex to orgasm helps keep the general energy flowing, rather than abstaining for a long time for the pressure to build up. I don't know.

I spent a couple of hours outside in the sunshine, digging up weeds for the garden planting.

 

I know you probably all say this about your own, but my husband is a rare creature. When he got home from his day-long meeting, and I told him that I had managed to reach O, he lit up with a huge smile and said, "Yay!" When I shared my general confusion about it, he said, "But I was in there, too. I participated last night and this morning. It's all part of the same thing."

Last night in bed, he said that he saw all of our lovemaking as a continuous flow, and whether either of us reached O at any point was a continuation of the time before and on the way to the next time because it all builds up across the days, weeks, months, and years...

I never heard anyone say that before.