clickmenudie's blog post - Hitting the fan

Well, the shit's hit the fan. Twice already. My girlfriend had been suspicious for a while. I don't initiate sex, and when she does, I don't quite respond. I get too self-conscious at times, and sometimes I feel irked because I feel like I'm expected to satisfy someone else'desires.

It's hard. It's hard when it's limp and you want it to harden up. I've promised to get some help. But it's expensive, and I don't even know if it'd work. Fortunately, now days go by without me looking at porn, and I don't feel that compulsion to masturbate when I'm on my own. Half the reason why is probably guilt. Though guilt has always been the big landscape in the background of all this.

I saw "Shame" by Irish director Anthony McQueen. That sums up a lot of the feelings that I've been having the last few years. We saw it together. She hated it. It depressed her. I was gobsmacked. The acting was absolutely mind blowing; and the story hit home, too.

One scene that was particularly identifiable is when the main character can't get it up when he's about to have sex with a co-worker. He feels so humiliated that he tells her to leave the hotel room. In the next scene, he's screwing a prostitute leaning against the window of the same suite. The capacity to develop intimacy has been so eroded to the point that it's almost non-existent.

This has been sensed by her too. I'm distant. My visualization of sex restricts itself to sex organs and fluids and little human personal connection.

I can hardly say that this numbness is something I'm grateful for.