This post is ABSOLUTELY NOT intended for anyone who is under 18. Or my family. (Mom, Dad, other relatives, if you're reading, please stop. Please.) There WILL be discussion of mental health, physical health, and sex. Punches will not be pulled. Obscenities will likely not be in short supply. As always, nothing here should be considered medical advice. Talk to your doctor if you have questions.
Life is weird.
I still haven't had a proper night's sleep since I got the news. I guess I didn't realize just how much of an impact this was going to have on my headspace. I mean, I definitely didn't think I'd come to the conclusion that I had a ton of associated anger and then *POOF* be magically fine with it, but fucksake, I didn't think I'd have multiple days in a row of piss-poor sleep.
I also didn't think I'd be having so much sex that my entire fucking body hurts. This is, in fact, partially related to the news, and I can already tell that you have the wrong idea, so buckle up while I explain. One of the fun consequences of Bipolar Type II (which I have) is periods of mania. For some people, that's excessive energy, like having 4 triple espressos and a candy bar. For some, it's a very short fuse and explosive temper. (I get that one sometimes.) For some, it's impulsive or even reckless behavior, which can range from the more minor things, like dying or cutting hair, to seriously dangerous things like binge drinking, intentionally driving way too fast, binge drinking, etc. (I get the lower end of that one pretty regularly when I'm manic.) And for some people, it's an intense sex drive, which may or may not lead to bad choices and/or physical endangerment. Now, to say that I have a strong sex drive to begin with is a pretty safe statement. I'm open about it, it's led to more than one regrettable addition to my "body count" (as the kids these days call it...jeezus that's dark), and it's led to a handful of trips to the doctor for medication to treat the unfortunate side effects that come from having way too much sex. (UTIs, yeast infections, and BV are all on that list, because when you fuck enough, your vagina will eventually do whatever the fuck it can to get you to stop before you cause permanent damage.) So I'm not having an excessive amount of sex because I will eventually be having a surgery that's going to put the downtown out of commission for 6-8 weeks, but because I'm experiencing a touch of mania.
Related: I am on (what seems to be) a very effective medication to control my bipolar symptoms. I'm not concerned in any way that this is going to become a full-on manic episode. Neurotypical people have days and even weeks where their behavior might be considered slightly manic. Everybody handles stress in a different way. Some people get angry and need to hit something. Some people get hyperfocused and clean everything. Some people experience a major negative stressor and begin to laugh, because what the fuck else can you do? Apparently, when I experience stressors, I decide that I need orgasms, and lots of them. Fortunately, my husband is currently also dealing with a heightened sex drive.
Aw hell, I'm screwing my way to clarity and acceptance. It's college all over again, only with significantly fewer people, no bad beer, and a distinct lack of sawdust. (If you know, you know.) And I've definitely been enjoying the hell out of it. The past couple of days have seen more orgasms than the past couple of weeks combined, and we've tried more things. Restraints, orgasm denial, domination (complete with punishment that I enjoy far more than I should), continued stimulation during and after orgasm, and even straight-up pornographic video games. It's been an intense couple of days, and I had to tell my husband that no matter what I say tonight, I should *not* have sex. My shoulders, back, and legs are so sore from all the absurdly strong orgasms I've been having that I'm surprised I can function. Oh, and I managed to sprain my frickin sternum the other week, so my goddamn chest hurts, which is, y'know, deeply unsettling in the midst of a pandemic that damages the lungs and an extremely stressful series of events.
I'm sure some people are thinking that all this sex is probably an unhealthy way to come to terms with my feelings and/or let go of the anger. And those people may well be right. But to that, I counter: orgasm creates a flood of endorphins that improve mood and (theoretically) help with sleep. And honestly, at least in my conscious mind, it seems to be helping with the panicked feeling that I'm losing a part of my identity by winning this fight. Maybe I'll turn that anger toward helping other people with uteruses gain control of their reproductive rights. (Who am I kidding? I'll definitely do that.) Maybe I'll use it to break through the ridiculous taboos that people have around discussing sex. (Sex is a normal bodily function that is enjoyable for a reason. Quit shaming people for wanting to have it. Also, quit shaming people for not wanting to have it. And while you're at it, quit kink-shaming. Nobody gives you shit for liking missionary, so stop giving people shit for liking cock cages and being bound and flogged while wearing a unicorn mask and a sparkly purple buttplug. If you're not into something, you don't have to do it!)
I feel like I've derailed here. The point is, it's day 3 after finding out that I can have my damned partial hysterectomy, and I'm dealing with this change by having a metric fuckload of orgasms. How's your day going? Anyone have any coping mechanisms that feel good but won't damage my vag? Or hell, even just suggestions for interesting things to try in bed? Might as well go for it while I'm here, right?
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