Art. Music. Life. Et cetera.

WARNING: This post will include discussion of sexuality, sexual thoughts, feelings, and behavior. It will also include some rather ugly and painful memories and graphic descriptions of surgery and the body gone terribly, terribly awry. If you are not comfortable with any of this, please move on to another post or blog. It’s about to get all personal up in here. Some people may not be cool with that, but it’s my damn blog, and if I need to get something out, this is where I’m gonna do it. So here’s your chance to skedaddle if that’s too much for you. Go. Git! Shoo!


All the prudes and so forth gone?

*tap, tap, tap*

*checks watch*

La, la, la…


I got a girlfriend that’s better than that, she got the smoke in her eyes… *hums*

Okay. Coast clear? All the prudes gone?

All righty. So.

Something very, very strange happened to me this evening.

For those who don’t know, which is probably everyone, the author of this blog typically identifies as agendered and asexual. I went through a period of identifying as FTM, but grew to realize over time that my identity is less male or masculine than genderless, although I do have some distinctly masculine urges and feelings at times. Not in a stereotypical sexist society way. More like, sometimes I used to feel an overwhelming urge to sexually penetrate something. Nevermind that my anatomy is completely incapable of penetrating anything and never was.

But for the most part I don’t have much of a sex drive at all. When I was in my teens, I did, but when I was 15, I had an ovarian cyst or something like that (it’s still a bit mysterious to me, doctors have never fully seemed to know quite WTF actually happened.) But basically, within about 12 hours, one of my ovaries swelled to the size of a softball, if not bigger, bringing excruciating pain in the process, before finally exploding around 1am on the same day the pain began. Being a teenaged fool, I did not seek emergency medical aid at any point during all this agony. Nor did I adequately communicate to any responsible adult what was going on with me. I just curled up and waited for it to go away. I didn’t know what was happening at the time – all I knew was it felt like a rabid weasel was trapped in my left abdomen and was trying to both claw and eat its way out of my flesh.

You know, fuck these memories, they suck. But I gotta tell them so the rest of this story makes sense.

So. Anyway. I didn’t know what I was feeling burst, but I felt the burst at 1am, and the pain didn’t go away, but the character of it changed immensely, and it was almost like a relief. For a month afterward, it hurt to piss, and I spent a lot of time in bed.

But I was 15, and I was stupid. I toughed it out. I said nothing to anyone.

Oh, how my 29-year-old self wants to smack my 15-year-old self around. So, so, so much. “YOU FOOL, TELL SOMEONE BEFORE YOUR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM EATS ITSELF”

But, no. I did nothing. And when the pain finally faded, I figured it was over with. I moved on with my life.

Until I was 17 or so, when I began having pain in my abdomen again. Only this time it came on very slowly, and was not constant at first. Still a teenager and therefore still stupid, I ignored it. It got worse. I ignored it. It began happening more often. It began lasting longer each time it happened. It got more painful yet.

And, being stupid to an apparently mind-boggling degree, still I “sucked it up” and said nothing. (You see how I was holding myself to stupid ideas of toughness and strength at this age? It’s one of my big flaws.)

Eventually it got to the point where the pain was constant and still getting worse.

I couldn’t take it anymore and went a little crazy. My mental health had never been great, but it really deteriorated. There was lots of other stuff going on at the time in my life but the pain was what really did it. Chronic pain will unhinge anyone, but especially an already-unstable teenager. (Ironically, if it weren’t for drugs, things would’ve been a lot worse. I’m the only person I know who used drugs and got themselves out of there rather than using drugs to finish destroying themselves. I still don’t understand what’s wrong with everyone else, or what’s missing or different in me, such that my experience is so different. But that’s another topic for another day.)

To make a long story short, eventually my mother found out what was going on with me and dragged me to medical treatment. I ended up having to have a hysterectomy and oopharectomy at the age of 19 or 20. The first surgery was diagnostic, because on ultrasound they kept not being able to find my left ovary. The laparoscopy is when I learned what had happened back when I was 15 – that thing I’d felt burst was in fact my left ovary. It was gone, long since exploded. Which of course is why it couldn’t be found on ultrasound.

Meanwhile, the reason for my current pain was also explained – due to what happened when I was 15, my abdominal cavity had slowly filled with scar tissue as my body incompetently struggled to heal the damage. The pain was due to the massive scar tissue buildup slowly strangling and crushing my uterus, remaining ovary, and other internal organs.

So they opened me up again, took out the sad remains of my reproductive system, scoured out the scar tissue, and left me on my own.

Small wonder I tried to see myself as a man for so long. Biological womanhood nearly killed me. Although my identity issues began long before 15, I still see this as a major factor in my identity issues during my late teens and early 20s.

In any event, my powerful budding sexuality was all but destroyed by all of this. Being neutered kills a lot of the sex drive to begin with simply because, without your ovaries, you’re not getting that constant chemical prod to reproduce. I managed to get on transition levels of testosterone for a while in my mid-20s, and that kept things going for a while. But I was already psychologically rejecting sexuality by then, so even with the T, I was dying as a sexual being by then already. And when I did want it, then, it was almost always as a male, whether due to my own mindset at the time or the testosterone I have no idea (probably a bit of both.) Then my insurance stopped paying for the T, and as it faded from my system, the last vestiges of sexuality died off.

By this point my sex life is nonexistent even though I’m in a long term relationship (almost 7 years) with a wonderful (and, may I add, well-endowed and extremely sexually considerate and attentive) man. If only I still had a sex drive, my relationship would be as close to perfect as any real relationship can be. Unfortunately, that remains the one weak point in our otherwise flawless connection. It’s extremely frustrating for both of us. It’s not like I don’t WANT to be sexual, intellectually and emotionally. But it’s just not… there anymore. Without the parts, without the chemistry, nothing happens. I’ve tried Premarin and all kinds of crap but nothing really helps. Plenty of stuff makes intercourse not painful, which is an improvement, but nothing so far has made me really WANT IT. As a male or a female or ANYTHING.

Every rare now and then, as a side effect of the painkillers I am prescribed, I wake up with an odd sort of almost-horniness clinging to me. It’s very personal and almost unpleasant. And the feelings I get aren’t normal – the ‘orgasms’ don’t feel like the few orgasms I had with my partner before my sex drive faded away completely. And it’s extremely short-lived, vanishing when I become fully awake, and especially if I try to get my partner involved. Paying attention to it kills it, as if it were never real to begin with. Just a lame chemical side effect is all the sexuality I’ve had for years.

But tonight I was lying in bed, reading aimlessly, thinking about nothing in particular. Somehow, randomly, I found my thoughts drifting in a sexual direction, for no reason whatsoever. I’ve been trying to reawaken myself as a sexual being for the last year or two, so I decided to allow and encourage this, even if I didn’t think it would go anywhere.

Instead, within half an hour, I had put down the book and was masturbating for the first time in my adult life. I mean, really, genuinely masturbating. I NEVER do that, because I never feel the urge or the need. But tonight suddenly for no apparent reason it’s like everything works. I felt hot. I felt horny. I felt aggressive. I wanted to fuck, and be fucked, and rape and be raped. Inchoate, uncontrolled sexual images and urges exploded across my mind. I’ve read about this sort of thing, but never, ever experienced it. Suddenly, the whole world of sexuality, which has always been rather alien to me, became clear and comprehensible. I understood, suddenly, what all the fuss was about, what everyone else has been feeling all this time. Eventually, I began to orgasm. I have never successfully brought myself to orgasm through masturbation before in my life. Not real, strong ones like that, just like during the few bouts of good sex I’ve experienced.

Eventually it almost got frustrating. I was touching and touching, and it felt good, but almost too much, and I began to get annoyed – when will it be over? I’m used to what meager sexual feelings I ever have being weak and gone quickly… but I kept going for at least eight or ten orgasms until they finally began to feel weakened and “winding down”, if that makes any sense at all? I could smell myself and my sweat smelled both masculine and feminine in this intoxicating way. I already tend to be a smell-oriented person who doesn’t mind my own smell or that of other people, but I actually enjoyed my own smell during that time, and would have thoroughly enjoyed that of a lover had one been available. (Alas my partner is feeling awful and in a terrible mood right now and I already knew that so I didn’t bother him. I kept expecting it to disappear any moment anyhow and didn’t want to get his hopes up and get him going only to end up not enjoying it myself because the feeling would go away really fast, as would often happen in the past.)

I began to feel high, a lingering intoxication. I felt an urge to listen to music and to try to understand what the hell had just happened, or is still happening, I guess, since I can still sort of feel the warmth down there, though it’s over now.

Seriously, what the hell was that? What brought that on? Will it come back?

God I hope so…


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