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It's All About Sex

7 years ago2,724 words

We exist to have sex, biologically. Everything else is peripheral. And it's really hard to want to keep going if you feel that physical connection isn't going to be a part of your life experience. For me, anyway.

I've tried to write this post a few times, but the depression and suicidal thoughts have been especially intense lately. I'm able to get out of bed, maintain some standard of hygiene, go out to lectures and things like that, so it could be worse... But I feel like a ghost, watching a world I'm not part of; the only thing that's been propelling me through the days is the thought that soon, hopefully very soon, I'll have the opportunity and the courage to take the final leap and just end it all for good.

Obviously that's not a good place to be in. But I've been thinking a lot about why this is, and all these converging bits of information do make it clear that it's primarily an absence of physical connection that gets to me the most. It isn't like I didn't know that already, but... well, I want to ramble about some disjointed but unrelated things here, anyway. Just to get them out.

I just read a manga called My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness. So that was interesting. It's the first manga I've ever actually read, I think, and I came across it randomly on TVTropes because the title made me raise an eyebrow.



It was an autobiographical story about a 28-year-old Japanese woman who'd very much not got her life sorted out. She was a virgin, until she hired a lesbian prostitute for an incredibly awkward sexual experience, and she'd always felt disconnected from others, struggled to find her place in the world and meaning in life, things like that. A lot of it was very relatable for me.

(That particular panel stood out to me because I know people say I should 'get help', as if as soon as I see some therapist, everything will become instantly better... even though I've been seeing therapists for ages, and the problem is something they can't actually address. I already understand my own mind. I just want someone to cuddle with.)

I found the manga fascinating and valuable to read, as I always feel it's useful to read stories that resonate with our own experiences deeply, especially if they make us feel less bad about not having things as sorted out as society makes us feel we should... Knowing we're not alone helps us feel less broken. It might not fix us in itself, but it lightens the weight of being misunderstood or uniquely defective that can weigh us down and prevent further action so much of the time.

It's why I made that website for people with mental health issues at this university... But I've been told that it probably won't happen because of stupid bureaucratic reasons that fill me with frustration and which I can't be bothered to rant about. Something that essentially boils down to the university not wanting to be sued if something goes wrong with it, even though I don't want it linked with the university anyway. I just want to send out a mass email, but I can't even do that. Ugh. While there'd technically be other ways to advertise - people suggested flyers, or the uni newspaper - they wouldn't even be seen by the people who I feel would most benefit from the site anyway (plus I imagine the same bureaucratic barriers would be in the way, perhaps even moreso).

Reading that manga rekindled my interest in telling my own story through my own creative work... Indirectly, most likely, as I've tried to in the past. Using various characters to embody my own experiences or mental patterns, that kind of thing. And I've been thinking about this for a while.

But it's frustrating. What little creative energy I can muster these days tends to be directed towards personal projects which offer some hope of soothing the deep, aching pain of sexual deprivation. I wrote about the kinds of things I've been working on in a previous post. Things where two girls just talk to one another, to fill the friendship and relationship holes in my heart even a tiny little bit. It's never any real substitute for real connections, of course, but it does feel like it might be better than nothing, at least in the anticipatory stages. By which I mean that the idea of working on it fills my mind with wanting and a faint motivation to action, whereas the idea of working on the kinds of things I used to in the past - fantasy stories, like MARDEK - feels like a huge lead block I can't even begin to push. I try writing notes for less pervy projects, but quickly lose interest as my mind resumes buzzing with new ideas for these poor substitutes for human relationships.

I've written before about how social exclusion activates the same brain regions as physical pain, and I can definitely say that this is subjectively true; being alone hurts. A lot. The thought of a future of that really does seem worse than death; suicide brings with it a comforting kind of relief, whether oblivion or eternal bliss awaits on the other side.

I googled something like "why do you want to die?" the other day, and came across ∞ this thing, where several people provided their reasons ∞. Most were essentially loneliness, disconnection from others. Not having anyone to love, not being loved by anyone.

The reason that I was so obsessive about B, and so hurt by her loss, was because she was actually someone I had a close connection with and wanted to be around since our first days together. Connections like that have been so rare for me. That elusive spark has only happened less than a handful of times, but when it does, the excitement I get is just worlds away from the kind of gruelling chore that is maintaining a relationship without one. There've been people I've liked in the sense that I enjoy talking with them... but without that spark, I never reach out, or I struggle to reply. Not because I don't want to or because I actively dislike the person, but because it feels like I'm a zombie without necromantic magic flowing through me, and I just can't muster up the energy (that's a strange analogy).

Also, B was someone that I could actually meet up with in person, who I could actually hug. Those of you who've always had regular hugs might take them for granted as a normal part of life, but for those of us for whom they're rare treats, they can be like bright fireworks that light up the darkness for hours or days afterwards. Something soothing to seek as the starving might seek succulent steaks. The author of that manga talked about the power of hugs; how without them, she felt empty; how she'd watch people at a distance longing desperately that someone - anyone! - might approach her and just embrace her.

I can relate to that feeling... though I don't think I'd be content if it was just anyone. I don't think I could have sex with just anyone either; without the strong longing for the other person, it'd just be awkward, intrusive, worse than nothing at all. It's why I could never hire a prostitute like she did.

On a biological level, I imagine that might be a lack of oxytocin. That's a hormone which plays a key role in human bonding, feelings of comfort and love, and which is generated during physical touch. Without touch, you don't generate oxytocin (or not enough, anyway). Being untouched literally leaves you chemically deprived.

I'm well aware that finding a relationship won't solve all of my problems... But it's like being rich. That wouldn't solve all problems either; it might in fact introduce new ones. But the problems that it would solve would be worth whatever those new ones might be.

B never filled the capital-R Relationship-shaped hole in my heart, because she was just a friend, but she came closer than anything else I'd had in a long time, so I'm still suffering her loss quite badly. I've been looking around in my lectures, societies, things like that for someone who might have any chance of being a replacement for her, but I've yet to find anyone at all, and since I've seen everyone who'll be in my classes this semester now, I don't think that I will.

It's also incredibly hard knowing that she's right there in the room for half of them, but I can't go near her. I end up essentially 'hiding' by averting my eyes from everyone, by sitting in a corner so then I'm as far away from her as I can be. I don't want to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she might already. How I feel matters less.

It would be wonderful if I could find someone to have an actual romantic connection with... but the biggest thing that's fuelling my desire to die is the realisation that I've got to a point in life where I don't think that the kind of connection that I'd want is even possible.

I'm one of those deluded people who wants some specific 'soulmate', who I click with, so that's a huge limitation from the start... It isn't that I want someone who ticks off every single super-specific item on some exhaustive list, but rather someone who is... blue, let's say. Any shade of blue would be okay, as long as it wasn't red. B wasn't the exact shade of blue I thought I'd ever truly click with, but she was 'blue enough' for me to do so. Other people never seem to be very blue at all.

I also seem to want someone who's intelligent, kind, awkward, shy, slim, pale... Ample breasts. Essentially, someone who has many typically desirable characteristics. But I feel frustrated about that; like people would only look down on me for being so 'shallow'. Or like I feel that I shouldn't be so shallow and specific myself, or something. Especially in regards to physical traits. They shouldn't matter.

And in the past, they didn't, or so I thought. I used to be so deprived of female contact that I thought that I'd be happy if any girl talked to me, no matter what she looked like. I'd happily accept anyone, I thought; I hated guys who only liked 'pretty' girls, and all the inner hell girls had to go through to try to achieve a standard of beauty that for many of them simply wasn't attainable.

But we are mere beasts, underneath these recently-evolved minds, and men do seem to value looks very much in partners. All the evolutionary psychology I know supports that. It's frustrating, but true.

I suppose it's something that's been getting to me more and more recently because back in school, it was taken for granted that everyone around me was young, and youth is a big part of attractiveness in women. As I get older, the chances of being with some young, slim, shy girl decrease - especially since more desirable partners find them first - while the thought of being with an overweight, jaded mother increase. And I feel absolutely awful about it, but that outcome scares me. A lot.

I could write essays about all the reasons my mind would be like this... Perfectionism is at the heart of it, along with huge doses of cultural conditioning and naivete that comes from living in a bubble for so long. Whatever the reasons, the problems are internal, with me having preferences that aren't fair, which I shouldn't and which I feel ashamed of, but which are overpowering nonetheless.

It's doubly frustrating because I'm well aware that I'm not a desirable mate myself.

One of the modules I'm doing at university this semester is called Evolution and Social Behaviour, and it's all about the biology and psychology of mate selection. I know a lot about this already, but it's interesting to learn even more. I'm reading a book for it called The Mating Mind, which makes the argument that our conscious minds and all their fruit - wit, humour, music, art, intellect, etc - are essentially the equivalent of peacock feathers; a way to impress the opposite sex. Everything else they've achieved - culture, etc - is just a side-effect of that.

When it mentions positive mental traits that potential mates look for, it mentions some I'd like to think I have. Intelligence, compassion, creativity... It seems on some level that I do have something to offer, that I am wantable in some sense, perhaps moreso than others.

But the truth is that I'm a 29-year-old student who's never been employed, who's socially awkward, who can't drive, who doesn't drink and can't have 'fun'... I don't have my own house. I can't protect or provide, and I lack so many of the things that the overwhelming majority of 'competitors' could provide easily. Plus I'm mentally ill, I have a brain tumour, and I'm not at all physically attractive on top of all that.

I'm the sort of person who, at best, would activate women's motherly instincts - pity - rather than lust.

I freely acknowledge that. It's why I've not tried dating sites/apps. I feel that women can do better than me; I don't want to embarrass anyone by going out with them. This isn't helped by things that B said about me, by how badly things went with her as just a friend. Or by how badly things went with my ex in the end, especially since I've probably not grown very much since then (at least not in the real world resource-accumulating ways that matter).

So there's this desire to have someone objectively desirable, and the realisation that since I'm not myself desirable, I'll never attain that. I don't deserve what I want. I'd have to settle for something less, or be alone, and the thought of going the rest of my life without the only thing in life I truly want is an unbearable thought.

Even if I did go on a date, even if I ended up naked in a bedroom with someone who wanted to have sex with me, I'm so inexperienced that I can't imagine it being anything other than awkward and disappointing. It's why I'd want to find someone who's equally awkward, so then it's more like we'd be sharing an experience as equals instead of her 'being patient' with me or something... But the older I get, the less likely such a thing becomes.

I'm not really sure what to do from here. I want a hug, desperately. I want to have sex... with someone I love. I want to be loved. I know I need to be lovable by developing myself as a person first, but I feel I lack the energy to even do that because I'm not loved. I'm trapped, and in constant pain.

Intellectual, creative, and career pursuits feel meaningless to me. Everything does, except this pursuit of a partner. It's all-encompassing, like comparing the sun in the sky to the stars. They're smaller anyway, but when it shines, they disappear. It's pointless to suggest I give this less value than I do. I know I shouldn't see it as exclusively important at the expense of everything else. But it's hard to put into words how overpowering it is if you aren't experiencing it yourself.

I'm just trying to get through the days one at a time, but like I said, I feel like a ghost, and like there's nothing to cling to to actually want to keep moving forward.

People at university (staff mostly) keep talking about careers, how we should be preparing for ours... But I'm just fully expecting to never have one; to die before it comes to that.

I wish I could say something brighter, more hopeful, but I really can't.

I'll give myself another week, at least. Then maybe another week after that. We'll see.