You want it darker? We kill the flame. in anticlimatic

Almost snapped at work today. I could feel this pressure of expectation from so many people, surrounding me- pinning me against the cold reality of tasks I quite simply did not feel up to. Unfortunately the only reason I was in that position was because absolutely no one else was available. I oscillate wildly between feeling particularly competent and feeling particularly blind and buffoonish. Ten steps forward, nine steps back. And repeat.

My dreams are blank. The world’s gone monochrome. It’s a lack of novelty, I think. Excessive paranoia regarding my finances and winter expenditures has me in a state of impoverished lockdown, my meals- all homecooked now- dictated by what’s on sale, and what goes with whatever farmer J throws me. Other than work, wherein I toil away in dark places, mostly alone- I am home. Sometimes working on the old place, but most times just counting flowers on the wall and trying to summon energy from somewhere/anywhere.

I need better sleep. Sometimes I wake up at 4:00 am with some soft dreams, an erection, and just enough energy to do something about it…but my woman- who will sleep through 12 alarms- can sense even the most subtle whacking off coming from the far side of the king size bed at any level of sleep, and become offended that I haven’t summoned the energy to wake her up and do her instead.

Honestly it is a fair complaint from her, we hardly ever get it on, and I’m the reason. I feel like I should know why but I can’t explain it. I can’t say we’re incompatible because we used to have a fine sex life. Most of the other reasons I can think of just involve blaming her, so I’m not really getting very far at actually figuring it out. I am trying, though. I am more relaxed around her than anyone else, yet there is something in me that is always tense around her- and whatever that something is, whatever particular stress that is- it singularly targets my libido. Maybe it’s because I take care of her. Maybe it’s the stress of making sure she’s alright, as there are certain basic survival actions that everyone must do that she outright refuses to think about, so I do them for her. Being well taken care of turns me on in a oedipal complex kind of way, but I also find arousal in approaching the act of sex as a destructive and consumptive act. Taking care of someone provides the antithesis of both, so both avenues of arousal are shut as a consequences it seems. Interesting, I wouldn’t have thought of that had I not written it down. Thanks, Me. My job here is finished for the night.

Last updated November 13, 2021