Finally.

So. Finally. I made a call to a therapist today. I just - I can't take it anymore. I'm tired of feeling sad/guilty/mad/confused/depressed/just plain miserable everytime (okay - almost everytime) I look at C. I mean - I'm stubborn as hell, and I'm good at lying to myself, but I'm tired of being so damn - dysfunctional. I can't/won't call myself broken, cuz I ain't - but troubled? Yes.

I love my husband dearly - I want to spend the rest of my life with him - joyfully and fully. And the fact that I'm not sexual - unless it's NOT with him, is - irksome, to put it plainly. I want to desire him. I want to want him. I want to spring on him and kiss him and suck his dick and sex him like he's never mean sexed before - and while one part of my mind is all 'yeah!' the other part is still stuck in a five-year old's mind that thinks boys are icky.

And honestly? I'm tired of trying to do it myself. I don't think there's a self-help book in the world that'll address this in any sort of long term, fully consious way. Something's blocked in me, and I can't see the wall for the bricks.

I can't even say that he's not being fair to expect this. I can't even say that he just wants it too much. I can't even say that I am 'normal' for not wanting it. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of our almost perfect marriage constantly crashing against this wall. And it's not him. It's not us. It's me. And that first step  - the simple fact of admitting that yes, this is MY problem has taken me 4 years to come to - kicking and screaming the whole way.

And the fact that I'm getting involved in so many things outside of our house - the book club, doulaing, potentially starting up the bookmark thing (again!) is making me realize that if I want to stay married - esp. considering I'm interesting a field that puts SO much stress on a family relationship - I have to fix me NOW. I can't wait any longer - we might lose this wonderful, wonderful, wonderful thing we've created. I can't make any more excuses. I can't try to fix what's broken with us by adding other people.

So - I've called the triage nurse. Hopefully, my new doctor (and funny - I'm checking the head before I check the twat) is going to be Renate Rosenthal. My health insurance covers her (and THIRTY out patient visits a year - that's a MINIMUM of twice a week!) and - maybe she can help. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry - I'm so used to being able to do 'on my own'. And I can't even talk to my friends - and certainly not my mother - I can't talk to anyone because I don't want to involve anyone who is involved with my/our life in our marriage. It's really none of their business. It's only our business.

and heaven knows, we've talked, screamed, cried, come together, fallen apart - we've done all of that and still - 2 months later - I'm looking at him again knowing that he's hurting. And sad. and disappointed. and wondering how the hell it's going to work. And I look at him - I see his dick - and just think *ugh*.  I'm 28 for heavens sake! I'm not approaching menopause - my 50 year old mother hasn't even hit it yet. I want kids - lots of them - but - I can't see myself joyfully practing to make them - and I don't like it. I really wish I was a much more sexual woman - and I don't know how to force myself to be her. And in my heart of hearts, I really doubt that talking to this lady is going to help. I think I need a personality transplant - something external to me to create this - being.

Alcohol doesn't even seem to work anymore. It's been a while since we've had weed, but that didn't work the last few times either. I'm just - pressed flat and gone inside. I try to fantisize, and fall asleep. I try to masturbate, and stop because it just doesn't feel like ANYTHING - or it hurts - and/or fall asleep.  Very drunk, and in the house alone, I can give myself an itty bitty orgasm - nothing like the stomach clenching, earth shaking, heart racing O's I used to be able to give myself with nothing more than a few scripted lines of my favorite incest fantasy. and maybe that in itself should have been a sign - that my favorite fantasy has always been Daddy's Little Girl or Sinful Siblings. *sigh*  even when I start out interested, by the 10th minute in I'm thinking - god, hurry up and come so I can get this out of the way for another 3 weeks. And I keep track in my head of how long it's been, and even the guilt doesn't encourage me any more.  I'm smoking more - and I think that I think that'll make him less interested - but instead it just makes me feel like I'm adding more to the already tentative relationship that we have.

And yeah, I'm going to go alone - I want to go alone - I don't want him involved just yet. I just - I just want to talk for me. *sigh* and it feels so vain and so - so selfish but - I miss being - vibrant from within. And for once I hope it's just something I can fix with a pill, and not something that I have to root out like a dandelion - but I'm afraid it's not. and I'm not really willing to - force myself to dig that deep. Considering how teary I get emotionally, I - I suspect that the first few sessions will involve lots of tissues, because I'm ready to spill my guts. I'm ready.

Finally.