Sexless in the Country

For most of my adult life, once spring hits, once the sun starts shining and life is restored to the earth, my seasonal depression lessens to a manageable level. Even though I don't go outside much, seeing the sun and the flowers blooming fills me with a sense of calm and serenity. It feels as though anything is possible, as if something amazing can happen at any time. For some reason, this year is different.

I'm not sure what exactly is different about 2026, but instead of feeling reinvigorated by the resurrection of plant life, I feel more morose than ever. All I want to do is sleep; no matter how much sleep I get, how much coffee I drink, I am completely and utterly exhausted. I haven't slept the entire night through to my alarm for about a month now; I'm back to waking up with a full bladder - about to burst - or a desire to gorge myself on chips or whatever snacks I can get my hands on. I have no energy to do anything except what must absolutely be done.

To make matters even more strange, my sex drive has all but vanished, replaced by an agonizing need to be alone. I have always felt that masturbation is a healthy and necessary part of life, but lately, I haven't been partaking; I feel no sexual desire whatsoever. I guess it's fortunate that I'm single because between my desire to be alone and my complete lack of interest in sex, I'd make a terrible partner. I can't even begin to fathom being a support system for anyone right now. All I want to do is take an edible that is strong enough to knock me out for as long as humanly possible. Wake me up when summer is over and I can comfortably exist once more.

While I am looking forward to Comic Con this weekend - especially meeting Sexy Daddy Tyler Posey - it's less about getting the chance to flirt with Tyler - and fantasize that he'll take me back to his hotel room for some NC-17 fun - and more about just getting the chance to meet him and tell him how cool - and hot - I think he is. Normally, I'd be leaning heavily into the fantasy of hooking up with him, I mean, he's undeniably very good looking, but for some reason my sex drive has forgone the backseat in favor of burrowing in the trunk.

Stranger still, I have had a few sex dreams lately - about men I'm not attracted to; it's as if my subconscious is trying to remind me that somewhere inside of me is a healthy sexual being, but the cold harshness of reality has other things in store for me.

I believe that part of my issue is that I recently got a text from my dad, the first in a year. As I previously mentioned, he is currently being monitored for an irregular heartbeat and may need medication or a pacemaker; both he and my mom turned sixty a few weeks ago, which is mind-blowing to me. If my mom is sixty, then that makes me....yikes. The idea of no longer having parents to rely om, to actually have to be an adult absolutely terrifies me. As much as I am disinterested in a relationship with my dad - especially after all the shit he's put me through - I can't emotionally detach enough to just let it go. I am furious that he would have the nerve to even try to reach out to me after I blatantly told him that I was done and that he was never to call me again. I cannot fathom feeling entitled to treat anyone like shit, or to say the horrible things that he said to me and still expect to be allowed access to that person's life. Maybe because he was born in 1966 and raised in a time when you loved your family no matter what hardships they put you through, he thinks I'll forgive him; what he doesn't understand is the world doesn't work that way anymore, and neither do I. Having family being the root cause of pain is a good enough reason for me to sever ties completely; the idea that I have to forgive - and still love - because we share genetic material is absolutely meshugenna to me. The betrayal and pain are so much worse when they're coming from inside the house - so to speak. Although I chose to just ignore his text, part of me wanted to reply, reminding him that I am still gay, still making a joke out of him, and still done with him. My dad has a habit of losing his mind when major life events happen - like losing his dad; he copes by showing up at my house and trying to force me into a relationship with him. Each time this happens he does better - for longer - and says all of the right things, but in the end, he always finds a way to remind me why I gave up on him when I was still in high school. He will never be the dad that I deserve, he will never be the dad that hung the moon in the eyes of my four year old self.

Another issue weighing heavily on me is that my grandma - my mom's mom - recently returned home from her third stint in a nursing home; she'd fallen and broken her arm just above her wrist. It's been about a month since she left the facility and she's already been rushed to the ER twice - the first time for an alleged UTI and sepsis, and most recently, for what we thought was a stroke - she was nonresponsive and twitching - but turned out to be the effects of cannabis. While my uncle - her primary caregiver - swears that he has moved all of his edibles downstairs - after the last time she unknowingly ate one and thought she was having a heart attack or stroke - the proof, as they say, is in the pudding. How else would she have gotten cannabis in her system. Although she is home again now, the labs showed that her potassium levels are elevated, meaning that my uncle isn't giving her the medication she needs to keep it down. On top of that, she recently failed her mental competency test, meaning we've arrived at the point where the dementia has a firm grasp on her and it will only get worse from here. My grandma has been a figure of monumental proportions - a Titan - for all of my life; the idea of her being frail, of no longer being the source of safety and strength within the family is absolutely devastating. It is inevitable that she will pass sooner rather than later; I'm not sure how to even live a life without her in it. Even though I didn't see her a lot when I was growing up, I always admired her strength and resilience; to this day I am still terrified of her when she's mad. Losing her will be a massive blow to me and my entire family.

To top all of that off, I'm now back on six days a week at work. Now, I'm not complaining - I need the money and I don't want to let my boss down - but losing one of my days off, the day that I dedicated to sleeping and being lazy - means that I either have to give up my lazy day or my cleaning day. I'm hoping that once I adjust to my new schedule, I'll find a way to compromise and allow myself to both be lazy and sleep in and still get my necessary housework done so that I don't undo all of the cleaning and improvements I've done recently. Although I had had no concrete plans to do anything this summer, the ability to take a vacation being ripped away once again is frustrating for me; I haven't taken a vacation since 2023. I wish that there were responsible people who wanted to work so that I could get the break that I so desperately need from my job but cannot get. As bad as it is for me, it's even worse for my boss; between owning three stores, he's always got a problem at one of them, always needs to be physically present. While he does it without complaining, I can't help but feel badly for him; he is such a nice, caring guy and he - above all - deserves to take a vacation.

More upsetting to me than my newfound disinterest in sex is my lack of interest in anything. Aside from sleeping and being with my cats, nothing really excites me. Normally reading is a great method of stress relief for me, but even that is tedious for me right now - no matter how good the book. It feels like I might just be in a slump right now, but unfortunately, I don't know how to get myself out of it. I'm still taking my Zoloft, still functioning as I should, but once my obligations are done, I crawl back into my bed to rest.

Focusing on cleaning and organizing my apartment has forced me to face how messy I am head-on. There's no denying the facts when you're presented with them. I never thought that I would stoop so low as to live in squalor - by choice. My shopping addiction has become so bad that I've had to buy only what is necessary in order to keep myself afloat financially. I know it sounds like first-world problems, but treating myself is one of the few things in life that brings me joy; had I stuck to books and DVDs I might be fine now, but designer clothes and accessories are not cheap, even on sale or second hand.

I've recently started listening to a guided meditation at the end of the day - to help me relax after work and remove stress and anxiety - and while it helps calm me down, I find that my sex drive is still on the fritz. It's times like this that I want to give into my urges and smoke cigarettes again - but I can't because I know the chaos that would cause to my stomach, which has mostly calmed down in the last few months.

I'm hoping that getting out of town - even for a few hours - to go to Comic Con will be enough to reignite my lust for life and restore my humanity; I can't just revolve my life around work and sleep - it's not healthy - but the energy and desire for more just isn't there right now. I have hope that this is just a glitch on the journey of life, that it will pass and eventually I will feel like a human being again instead of just a zombie going through the motions of attempting a facsimile of life.