Archives for posts with tag: Sexology

I shaved my beard.  I am watching TV.  I am going to bed early tonight.  Clean white linen sheets.

A Beautiful Moment in Europe

It was a lovely day.  Nice people came to see the house.  Really nice.  This afternoon I worked with JA on the film which just goes from strength to strength.  It’s very reassuring to get ones writing mojo back.  As I mentioned before, it just FLOWED.  I have something to say and I know how to say it.  During the past few years I have written a couple of  scripts but I wasn’t motivated to direct or produce them.   They were bad scripts.  Today I am writing from my heart.

We mapped out all three acts and it works on so many different levels.  I will really enjoy producing this new film.

It’s not usual for me to write  two blogs in one day but as so many of my blogs recently have been hideously miserable I wanted you to know that I feel great this evening.  Very peaceful.

JA is not only my friend and producing partner he is also a fellow addict who really gets me.   So, after we had finished cooking lunch and writing he asked me why I was still so angry with Jake and I was forced to admit that even my anger is running out of fuel.

I cannot really remember all the resentments I constructed into my hateful narrative.

Yet, having said that, my anger has to be addressed.  What I have not talked about is perhaps the most sensitive reason for why it all became so nasty.

As some of you know if you saw me on the TV show Sex Rehab my sex issues have always been a problem.  For as long as I can remember I have never really enjoyed or felt connected sexually with anyone.

From erectile disfunction to an inability to be held Jake and I managed to overcome many of my problems.

Even though Jake and I had ‘issues’ what bound us when we were together was our physical connection.  Well, for me it was pretty amazing.  For him it was probably just routine.  He once said that he was only good at skiing and sex and he really was very good in the bedroom.   I never saw him on the piste.

He, like most of you, had no problem expressing himself sexually but I have never had the kind of wonderful sex that I had with him.  So, when I finally understood that it was over I felt (and still feel) without self-pity that I will never ever again have the connection that I had with him.   Now, you may say, Oh don’t be silly..you will.  But, I know deep down in my soul that this gorgeous time with Jake may have been my last chance at connecting with someone I loved and had a stab at fulfilling sex.

Once  you understand this missing part of the puzzle you may very well see the root of my frustration and sadness.  I tried to do everything I could to keep hold of a man who was patently wrong for me but with whom I had a profound sexual connection.

I really do want my money back but ultimately does it really matter?  What matters is that I must grieve for a life devoid of sexual connection.  It just made me so angry that I go on paying the price for my childhood abuse.  My distrust of men, my fear of expressing myself sexually.

My fury with him stems, almost certainly, from his understandable but insensitive desire to share stories of his sex life with others whilst we were together.   It was horrific listening to someone I loved describe something I knew I could never give him.  For me he was the only man I have ever made love to.  Ever.

It was unthinkable to have sex with anyone else.  It still is.

You may think me pathetic for trying to love him but I tried so hard to separate myself from him on many, many occasions as I documented in this blog.

He knew how addicted to him I was and he would play mercilessly with my emotions.  Knowing that I would always pick up the phone.  Knowing that I would always respond to his text because I knew that he was deeply sad after he left his girl friend.  That he was lonely and despondent but I also knew that if I felt similarly I could not rely on him to be there for me.

As was proved that fateful day in August.

Every morning I pray that this obsession, this anger, this grief these resentments will end.

As I was reading part of the new script to JA I started, finally to cry and the pressure cooker of emotions began to express themselves. I began to express myself.

I tell you again for those of you who might not believe it:  He made me very happy and I was prepared to overlook his flaws.  There were moments of pure joy for me whilst we were away in Europe although nowadays I really have to work hard to sift those moments from the crushing disappointments.

Lastly, I don’t really want to write this blog.  It had become, like most things I do, yet another symptom of my addiction.    As I read the earlier entries, before he bust into my life and I let him in…I let him in…well I remembered what it was like to be happy and I have been so very far from happy these past few months.

Even though he has been cruel and insensitive  he was also very vulnerable and turned to me for help when he needed it most.   You know, I tried to help but I am not a therapist nor am I the most stable person in the world.

Addiction for me is a daily emergency.

What have I concluded?  I need to be on my own.  I cannot begin to have relationships.

He never gave me the opportunity to say a kind goodbye…ironically, the very thing he wanted from his ex-girlfriend, even though that seems unlikely.  I really tried to say goodbye to him with dignity.  To end it in a civil and kind way.  To let him go.  I really did.   I was exhausted.  To end with kindness was my plan.  A plan he did not share.

So, JA unlocked the pain and by doing what I do best I can let go of my heavy heart.  I don’t have anywhere else to go with this other than forgive and forget.

I hope I can.  I really want to.  This is making me really ill.

You know, it’s easy to get depressed around Christmas time.  It’s easy to feel sorry for yourself as others are so obviously having a good time.  Take away the booze, the drugs, the porn etc. etc. and what are you left with?  It’s not just about what I can’t do it’s more about what I won’t do.  Invitations are left unanswered.  Parties unattended.   Why go out when I can throw my very own pity party?

This Christmas is miserable for other reasons.  My malaise is the countries malaise.  Diffident people, unresolved policies, a new President who arrived with such hope and is not delivering.   The undeserving bankers partying on the taxpayers dime.  ‘The have’s and the have mores.’  Do you remember Bush saying that?    I read about whole families in homeless shelters and growing incidence of hunger in the world’s richest country.

My friends are becoming more frustrated and less patient.  I only hope that their frustration leads to dissidence and activism.  Listen, this is not my fight.  This is not my country.  Why should I care?  Well, I do.

This week I wrote about sexual fluidity and my usual detractors came at me with the usual arguments.   One writer challenging my assertion that there is more sexual fluidity than we like to admit posted a link to an interesting piece in the New York Times.

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/05/health/05sex.html?_r=2&pagewanted=2&;_r=1

I think that it is worth reading.  Rather than proving his point that most men are one thing or another or gravitate toward one or other end of the sexual spectrum it proves only one thing:  we tend to ask men the wrong questions about sexuality if we want to hear the truth.

Bisexuality is not the point.  Sexual opportunism amongst men is the point.  Most men, initially, are simply not honest when asked about their desires, fantasies or experiences. Of the hundreds of men I have spoken to about their sex conduct-when they finally feel safe enough to tell the truth, the truth is always far more complicated and often more harrowing for them to admit.

Our personal and evolving sexuality is far too complicated for most humans to own up to.  Sexual honesty is further complicated by the hysteria whipped up by organized religion.

Sexuality is simplified by those at either end of the sex spectrum who are sure (for the time being) of their own desires and cannot be aroused by anything else.   These people are in the minority.  For the sexually opportunistic when sex options become available those options are gravely considered.  Hence the problems many men face with the internet and the availability of previously unseen or considered (often illegal) pornographic images.   Men trawling for pornographic images on the internet start by looking at ‘vanilla’ type images but very quickly find themselves looking at and aroused by images of sex acts and sex scenarios that they may never even considered previously.  Why do they look at them?  Because they can.  Once the door is open to this world of taboo it is very hard for most men to close it again.

How many men who are languishing in prison today, their lives destroyed, for looking at illegal images would have ever sought out those images if they hadn’t had the internet?   Once, not so long ago, before the internet those criminals might have thought about those things-maybe.  They might have had terrible desires or feelings but feelings are not facts.

Feelings are not facts.

Is it only a matter of time before the leap from an imagined world to reality?

The internet takes us very quickly to places that we wish we had never been.  From the safety of my own apartment I can explore the darkest reaches of my own mind.

Most of us never have the guts or the inclination or the opportunity to make real what was previously a fantasy.  The moment we step from fantasy into reality we create another life.

Tiger Woods will tell a reporter that his wife and family come first.  This scene is played out endlessly on TV to confirm that Tiger Woods is a liar.  No, Tiger Woods did not lie.  Tiger Woods really does believe that his wife and kids come first but he Tiger, like so many men, has multiple lives and like many, many men he compartmentalizes those lives.  He has his real life of wife and children and his fantasy life of hookers and escorts.  Because of his power, position and social mobility he gets to act out what is usually, for most men, a fantasy.

I serially cheated.  I had two lives.  My real life with my lover and the discardable life of quick hook ups.

‘It meant nothing’ means something.

I was acting on my most basest desires because I could.  Because I had no morality?  I balked at writing that but actually I mean it.  I had no code of conduct.  I had no guiding principles around my sex conduct.  I found myself at the mercy of my desires. Is this peculiar to me?  No.  One does not need to have had a traumatic past to become the victim of ones desire-just ask Tiger.

Sexuality is not as dull as gay or straight or bisexual.  It is infinitely more interesting.  My detractors want you to believe that sexuality is simple.  That they have the answer for all of you-that you are one thing or the other.

The truth is that until we can all honestly, shamelessly tell our sex stories we will never really know.