Sex, Dreams, Bisexuality, Intimacy Fears, and Withdrawing from Antidepressants
My Wacqui Preface; I am downsizing my antidepressant Effexor. I want to be more present and awake in my life, and Effexor makes me a little too happy spacey. I think it might be contributing to my forgetfulness (big time) and inability to get things done and stay focused. On my current dose, (75. mg extended capsules 2x daily), things don't hurt as much as they used to, I don't perseverate in thinking about all of the suffering I see around me, and every little thing doesn't make me cry like it used to.
I'm more functional on some levels and less so on others. Of course it's so much easier to live life without constantly having to feel and suffer and empathize, but with my feelings muted or turned down, I'm not the finely tuned creative being I think I was designed to be. I think my natural state is kind of like being an emotional tuning fork, I feel everything around me, your feelings, their feelings, and mine. Now I think I feel more like normal people do, and things roll off my back, but I'm not as available to my creativity, am less empathic, have completely dropped off the planet socially, and can go for really long periods of time without sex. The last part really sucks for Scott.
My psychiatrist thinks I need more Seratonin, not less, but she's willing to go along with my trying this. Effexor is not easy to get off of, the side affects of withdrawing from it are unpleasant. The plan has been to take my night time does of seventy-five and cut it down to thirty-seven. five. So far I've been able to do this for about two nights then on the third night I get a brain craving headache thing that is so intolerable I have to take another half just to make it go away. Tonight will be the second time I've managed to go three nights on the new dose. We'll see what happens. The dizziness and the little electrical brain pulse thing, (it feels like an empty hungry stomach, like it's spasming) are pretty hard to take.
I've heard some very scary stories about the things people do when they're trying to reduce their intake of antidepressants. You know I don't want to find myself being handcuffed and led away from the scene of some horrible crime. I just find myself sleeping through too much of my life, time is zooming by, and I'm not doing what I was put here to do. It just can't be that I'm meant to be this fat chick who sits at her computer and is afraid to answer the phone. Don't get me wrong, I looove my life here with all of you, I'm learning and growing so much, but there needs to be some balance, some more weight on the side of real living as opposed to cyber.
Okay so Scotti prepare to wince in discomfort over this next part. It's actually pretty complimentary but it's also very intimate. I just have to get this stuff out.
I woke up this morning after having had a bad or well, upsetting dream. I think it was probably because Scott and I made love last night. (Does make love sound corny to you guys? I like it when I say it to my partner, as in, Baby make love to me, because then it's hot, but when talking about it to other people, not like I talk about it with a lot of other people, I want to say, we had sex, instead. Maybe because the former is too intimate. Intimacy issues, hmmmm.) My beloved Scott is a wonderful, wonderful, lover! He is simply magnificent in all of the ways that I would want a partner to be. God, he is just amazing, and he doesn't know it. He is tender and caring and warm and sensitive and giving and considerate and passionate and hot and sexy, and I just simply adore making love with him. Scratch that, I loooove fucking him! So why do I avoid it?
It wasn't making sense to me until this morning. I feel like I've had an epiphany, and it's really just this very simple thing. I should have picked up on this ages ago. I am afraid of being hurt. I am afraid of how much I come to depend on him when we are close. I feel closest to him when we are intimate. I've been hurt by men in the past. I think Scott will hurt me.
I had this dream; In the dream I am somewhere kind of far away and unfamiliar to me, and I am talking to Scott. Michelle Pfeiffer is around here somewhere. She's my friend. Sometime in the past we were lovers. I still want her and am trying to figure this all out. (I'm very unfair in my dreams. I get to have sex with whoever I want, but if my partner does, I completely fall apart and wake up crying. In reality I think I'm much more open minded about this kind of stuff. I think people break up way too easily over simple sexual distraction, but that's a whole big other thing I'll leave for another time.) I am talking to Scott and he tells me that he had sex with Michelle last night, and he wants to go on a road trip with some gay male cop buddy. I flip out and run away. the rest of the dream is a blur of running and crying and feeling betrayed and abandoned.
When I woke up, I was crying, so I called Scott at work and told him about it. He was so sweet. He calmed me down, talked to me until I felt better, and now I do feel better, big breath. It's that I used to have these kinds of dreams about my ex. Scary horrible abandonment dreams where he just left me and there was no way to reach him. I would cry and cry, wake up, call him, and he would talk me down. They were such weird dreams because they felt so real at the time and yet made no sense. Robby would never hurt me like that, he was my best friend, we'd been together for ever, we grew up together, he would never just leave me and put himself totally out of reach, so I couldn't even talk to him about it, his Mother wouldn't be totally cold and horrible, his family wouldn't cut me off like that. And then it came true. So now that I'm having these dreams about Scott, I'm really scared.
We don't live together. He has certain habits I am uncomfortable with, and I live with a billion cats, clutter, (LOL, I wrote CLIT-ter by mistake), and am financially dependent on a domineering, opinionated, conservative, elderly, overly involved Mother. Plus he's an independent kind of guy. He used to tell me, years ago, that he doesn't believe in monogamy, doesn't believe in having to make one woman feel special above all the rest, that people should be able to love and sleep with whoever they want. I feel I almost lost him once to another woman, but she wasn't as interested as he was so it didn't work out.
He is a major flirt, a Gemini. He has lots of secret intrigues that he thinks I don't pick up on. I think he could easily be bisexual, and some people have thought he was gay, probably because he's so tender and gentle and graceful. I think he just has a super integrated feminine side, he's very male-sexy though, believe me. To be fair here, I define myself as being bisexual, (I've never acted on it, beyond a really great French kiss once, in college) and Scott says he thinks there's a much greater chance, that I will suddenly declare myself gay and leave him, than there is of his ever doing anything like that. But I am afraid.
It's a fear of men thing. I think men want to trade up when the current model ages, or becomes less interested in sexuality, or just isn't as sexy and appealing as she once was. It isn't hard to see this fear/theory validated all over the place. Just open any magazine or flip a channel. My forty year old ex is dating an eighteen year old. The beautiful twenty something woman sitting next to me at the hair salon is dating a sixty year old. Bruce cheated on Demi and Tom broke up with Nicole. Howard Stern is the devil, I'll stop here.
Then there is the lovely fact that I think I'm unattractive. I think I have a pretty face, but I don't think it offsets the weight, and I'm shy about my weight. This is the reason why I won't put up a picture of my new hair. I'm so disconnected from my sense of myself as being attractive that I totally miss when people are interested in me and win up getting in trouble. I mean you have to be pretty much trying to fuck me, for me to figure it out. (This actually happened once, very sad.)
The other day at the park, this man I know, an attractive man, with two big gorgeous dogs, asked me if I was still going out with my boyfriend. It took me a second to figure out that he was trying to suss out his chances of going out with me. Amazing! I'm so unprepared for this kind of thing, so unused to it, that I'm still thinking about it now, days later. I have another male friend who I talk to from time to time, he's been very kind and helpful, and I'm just starting to piece together that maybe he wants a little something more than friendship. I have yet another male friend who had a crush on me that I didn't really clue into until he saw me in the car with Scott and then was upset because he put it together that I have a boyfriend.
Then of course there was my distant, shut down, cold, but loving, Father, and the fact that my ex husband dumped me by running off with a stripper after sixteen years of marriage. No phone call, no conversation, just cruelty followed by more cruelty. And the marriage hadn't exactly been a picnic of lovingness either. So you can kind of see why I'm a little gun shy when it comes to love. It is just so so hard for me to trust. Even when I'm looking at a long history of decency, kindness, and fidelity from my current partner. I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I could give you an enormous list of reasons why I'm afraid to be close to my gal-friends, but there just isn't time to go into it now. I'm just looking at all of this and wondering over it. I think acknowledging that I have a problem with being intimate with people, is a good first step at this point.
Oh and thank you so much for your support, and prayers, for my ongoing cat buddy health issues. Gelato came home, at a staggering cost, and is finally eating for us. We do have to give her the subcutaneous fluid injections. Beau of all people is the one who learned how to do this and is teaching everyone. I am so proud of him. I help assemble the syringe and the tubing and hold the bag, but I just can't put the needle through her skin. I'm such a squeamish baby about this. I intend to break through this fear barrier though.
Ala is at the vet now. She's been there for a few days. She was severely dehydrated and needed fluids. She needs dental surgery because her teeth are so bad, (not my fault I promise, I feed the best food), but she had a heart murmur and might not have been able to handle anesthesia so she needed a cardiac ultrasound. It turns out she has hypertrophic obstructive cardio myopathy, which means that her heart is thickened and enlarged and not filling properly, so she is going to need medication for the rest of her life. She wouldn't have survived the dental surgery. Okay, well I'm super late to pick up the spay neuter vouchers I promised to pick up from the vet, and I have therapy with Susan today in the valley. Thanks for reading.
Love you guys,
Oh shit Beaus friend just broke his leg and he's alone I have to rush over there.