People don’t, generally, go to sex blogs (and yes, I think that for the most part, this is a sex blog) to read the mundane details of their authors’ lives. Because the truth is, the mundane details of authors’ lives rarely are interesting, unless the author is an extraordinary writer. And I’m not. I’m a workmanlike writer who aspires to doing a good, thorough, clear job of communicating. I don’t generally expect my words themselves to be a source of pleasure or interest; rather, my presumption is that my past and my present and, more than that, my thinking about those two things – at least/especially as relates to sex, sexuality, and certain related topics – are of interest.
Lately, events have conspired to leave me with less time, and less energy, to write here. What’s interesting to note is that, coincident with that decline in writing here, there has been a decided and clear decline in my mental health. I’ve been not just tired, but irritable. There are a number of variables contributing to this, and I could speculate as to which carries what weight, but the bottom line is that my life today looks very different from my life, say, six months ago. And whether it’s causal, symptomatic, or a little of each, I’ve been writing considerably less.
Today, I have 9-5 obligations five days a week that are in many ways less interesting, and less forgiving, than any such obligations I’ve ever had. Without going into details, this is a relatively short-term phenomenon, one for which I signed up willingly, and fully cognizant of just what it was I was signing up for when I did it. But be that as it may, I’m currently spending most of my days biding my time, suffering through various insults to my (relatively strong) ego and my (relatively invulnerable, at least professionally) sense of self. Once again, this was voluntary, not unanticipated, and in service of a longer-term goal. And I have no regrets. But my days suck, and they will do for the better part of the next 18 months or so.
And my mental health? I alluded to its downturn.
Well, I’m tired. I’m disthymic. I’m irritable. And worst of all, my sex drive is close to non-existent. In the last couple of years, sex and family have clearly been my two top priorities. In recent weeks, sex has all but receded. It’s (honestly) all I can do, for the most part, to stay present for my family. Trying to layer on an adventurous and playful sex life on top of that has proven really hard.
Or maybe “hard” isn’t the right word. For multiple reasons. 😉 (<—- My first ever emoticon on this blog, I believe.)
Maybe the right way to think of it is this: adventurous and playful sex just hasn’t been a priority for me lately. So it’s not so much that I’ve been trying and failing, as that I haven’t been trying.
And maybe this isn’t such a bad thing, actually. Not disavowing my sexual adventures; just saying, in times of stress, it’s probably appropriate that I focus my attention on my family.
Anyway, I don’t expect readers to be all that interested in the non-sexy mundane details of my life, but I do think there’s a kernel of an interesting observation here: in previous times, this (a time of dysthymia, or low-grade depression) might lead me to a frenzy of acting out sexually and sexual obsession. Although the simplicity and ease of acting out does have a certain appeal right around now (make a phone call, set aside an hour, have an orgasm), the truth is, it’s just not where my mind is, for the most part – either on acting out sexually or on planning an adventure.
That said? I hope to plan another one soon….
I’ll keep on posting, though perhaps slightly less frequently in the interim, and, as usual, I always welcome writing suggestions.