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I won’t sleep well tonight. I haven’t slept well in awhile. I have nightmares that feel like choking underwater with a plastic bag over my face. I feel my own dying nightly. I wake up gasping for air. So I fight to stay awake.
Tonight I’m exhausted and horny . I’d love a gentle blow job, but I’m far too tired to cum. Also, you can’t fuck the demons away, you know that Tommy.
My therapist insists on calling me Tommy. Sometimes I really hate that whore. She reminds me of my mother: smothering and demanding. She’s not smart enough — the therapist — to detect the transference, but it’s there.
Anyway, I can’t fuck my way out of depression. I tried all through my twenties. I fucked any woman who could talk. She didn’t even have to talk well — just enough to scream my name and bite down on my shoulder. I was very masochistic. Sex was often bloodied by scratches and bites; it was darkened with bruises and scabbed over rug burns. After I came inside a woman, I wanted to be wounded.
Case in point: Karen, the eighteen year old artist. She was so comfortable with her body. She loved how much I wanted it. She used to taunt me. But she still gave it to me a lot. At the height of our affair, I was inside her six times a day. It was life altering.
Eventually the depression caught me, of course. I started sobbing after I came. I would lay there, on top of Karen, weeping into my hands. Why was I so lonely? Why did no one love me? I was still inside her at the time. She tried for months to soothe me. One day she couldn’t take anymore. She left me for a philosophy major she met in the dorms. He was profound in his lying. His existence was a ploy. I was abandoned. She abandoned me to swallow his bullshit. I was left alone.
This is a trend in my life. I get rejected for my depression. Everyone seems to hate my emotions. Everyone rejects my memories. How can I not take that personally? If it hurts me this much, doesn’t that make it wrong?
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Doesn’t there have to be a limit to how much you submit another person to your feelings? Didn’t you feel it was a bit much to cry EVERY time you came? And how do you think it made her feel about her body, that she loved so much, to have you use it to deny yourself?
It’s not right for people to reject you because of your emotions, but maybe they’re just having a hard time not getting sucked in, so they leave for their own good? Maybe it’s not your feelings they’re rejecting. Maybe it’s their own sanity they’re embracing, but because of your inability to filter your expression of emotions, that embrace necessarily rejects the malaise you’ve quite literally cried onto others, like this young woman?
I’m assuming a lot. And I don’t fully agree with what I’ve said. But there they are, a few ideas to ponder, reject, or embrace.
Your issues are your own, and for that reason the most important thing in the world and fuck everyone and everything else.
I think I’m quite resilient and I don’t depressed (clinically depressed), at least not for long, I always find ways to cope, the last one being my blog.
But I have had to deal with depression for a number of years, my mum suffered from depression for about10/12 years, pretty much all my adult life, and maybe that has equipped me to be strong.
I don’t have an answer for you Tom, or a magic wand, but it will eventually go away. Talking helps, but so does resolving your problems. Accepting your limitations is also a good start, which you have taken. You can got therapists and speak to friends and family, but in depression ultimately it is you that will have to change to accept yourself.