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3:33 p.m. | Monday, Dec. 29, 2003
she makes me want to die It's funny when you are worried about the wrong thing. I was always so worried that Morrison would find someone else, but it seems that I should have been worried about something else. It had been in the back of my mind for awhile now, but I finally asked him if he had lost interest in me sexually and the sex. He said yes. With him over the last couple days it became a bit obvious. I know why and he told me the reasons that I figured were it. If someone is intimate with me it tends to end up going along with some caregiving. I need help going to the bathroom, getting dressed and undressed, as well as other things that need to be done before I go to bed for the night. He said it felt like he was more of a caregiver than anything else and that sex became part of that task. I don't blame him for that, I watched it happen with my ex-fiance and even though I always tried to take precautions against it happening again it was kind of inevitable. So we have decided to take a break and go back to being just friends. I'm glad we are still friends. As for how this makes me feel as a person and a woman... That is an entirely different story. I don't blame Morrison for this and he said it wasn't me, that I'm a cool person, he enjoys hanging out with me. The only problem is that, it is me. This disease and this disability, the care that I require is all me. It's part of my life and I realize now will be an issue for me and anyone I'm intimate with. I feel like this is taking away who I really am and all the things I really want. I'm a fairly sexual person and most of the things I would really like to be able to do in a sexual relationship are not possible. I've never been on top, I can't kneel next to a man who is laying down and give him a blow job, I couldn't be on my hands and knees as a sexual position. Even some of the fun foreplay is out, like tickle fights, wrestling around... Not that I can't have a fairly good sex life, I still have some movement and full sensation everywhere on my body. So I suppose it could be worse. Then again, what couldn't be worse? I feel like this body is not me and that it is making who I really am invisible. All my ideas, wants, and needs are under this veil and limited by what my body can and can't do. Things I would love to do, sexually or not always have to be held in check by what I can do physically, or how much energy I have. It's like being buried alive by your own physical self. I want to kill this body, to mutilate it. To cause it the pain that I feel in my heart and my head. The frustration of living this life can be so overwhelming I don't know what to do with myself. Except cry. Drug myself so the emotions go away so I can stop crying. If I didn't I don't know that I could ever stop it hurts so much. I hate always being the loser. THIS IS NOT ME!!
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This is my blogchalk:
Canada, Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, , English, , Female, 26-30, Reading.