So, we kinda eventually got there. My story. The last three years have been a little more settled, but probably the most unhappy of my entire life. Acceptance. This is what it looks like. I have learned to accept that bad things happen to good people, but I am no happier. I thought acceptance would mean I would get to the “other side” and find some joy. I have done the maths and staying is preferable to leaving while we have dependent children. I have thought long and hard about this, over and over.
Over a year ago, I lost the ability to have and enjoy sex. I guess the desire eventually just petered out, but one day I just couldn't engage anymore. I was having to leave my body in order to escape the horror of it all. I got my hormones tested, was this a pre-menopausal problem? The science says (Consuela voice, NOH.) After a while of this, I thought, "heck, Paula, there's such a thing as sex therapy," while my inner voice groaned, "oh god, MORE bloody therapy!" off I trotted to sex therapy. The therapist was an older woman, and we talked for a bit, she wanted to see both of us together. We went along like good little therapy disciples. It was pretty crap. The work she did seemed to me to be all about a woman who had never learned to let herself go (was frigid) and needed gentle coaxing. I was bad, but I did know how to get my groove on, I just didn't seem to want to anymore. So, lots of touching, and staring, "abstinence" – you know to get the juices flowing (actually, TMI, but "the juices" have never been a problem for me, even during this numb and disconnected period of my life!) We got sick of that pretty damn quick! I/we quit after a couple of months. Paint-by-numbers. No help. I told her, too, and she didn't seem to have anything else.
So, that’s my life. My sex life has disappeared, can’t even “get myself off,” can’t even be bothered, even when I try hard to feel sexy. I. Just. Don’t. I don’t feel sexual, or sexy, or attractive, or funny, or happy. She wins. Nice, but I still frame it that way at times. I have pain and sorrow, and sadness, and that means SHE wins. That was all she ever wanted for me, it took her twenty-five years, but she finally achieved that. Pisses me right off!
I get along in life. He and I are friends, but he is pulling further and further away from me. Only following my lead. I know that the only thing that would make me okay again is if he didn’t do this, but you can’t get a do over. A sexless life is not much of a life really.
Last year I enrolled at university again. I go to uni three days a week, and work just two. I’m doing well at uni, got straight A pluses last semester, and was just inducted into an international honour society, of course that’s a good thing. But it is really just a distraction. It’s hard to concentrate. I guess. It is not like I have found my passion, more like I am trying to prove a point to myself? This is the only routine that keeps me putting one foot in front of the other every day. And of course, my lovely kids. But they are getting more and more independent, and my life just stretches out in front of me like some kind of flat endurance test.
Whoah! Pity party much???