Let's Talk About Sex (Part Two)

This is the second part of a story.  Part One is here.

As I was saying, my husband and I haven't had sex in over a year.  Although it hasn't always been my lack of desire that stopped us, it is now.  And that is why I am trying to figure out how to make a change.  Now, there are many possible reasons for my lack of interest in sex.  Allow me to expound:

1. High doses of Zoloft - Zoloft is known to have sexual side affects.  Many people who are treated for depression usually start at a dose of 25mg once daily.  Over time your body gets used to the medication and it stops working.  It does this suddenly, without warning, and usually causes a breakdown. Since I began being treated for depression at 19, twelve years ago, I am now taking 200mg a day, plus another 100mg of Wellbutrin.  You would think I would be a walking zombie, but I have built up a resistance to the drug and apparently my doctor thinks increasing the dosage to a level at which the insurance company constantly needs reassurance is safe prior to filling my script is a good idea.

2. Lupus - I was diagnosed with systemic lupus at 21 and have struggled since then.  When I don't get regular naps, say if I have to work a 40-hour week, my body starts to break down. Arthritis kicks in, extreme fatigue, the big splotches on my face known as the lupus mask become noticeable, and I am utterly useless.  On a normal basis, when I get a daily nap of at least two hours, I am only fatigued, and I am talking about bone-aching tired.  Remember the last time you stayed up for more than 24-36 hours?  Remember how sick you felt?  That's what a normal day without rest can feel like to me.  So, needless to say, sex is not the top of my priorities.

3.  Lack of Chemistry - Patrick and I have never been electric by any means.  In fact, while dating the sex was good in that "it's a new person and different is good" kind of way. However, Patrick was struggling with premarital sex and his Christianity and so there was always a lot of reserve on his part.  From the day we were married the sex dropped to simply mechanical.  It was predictable; eyes closed, no kissing, no creativity, no good.  With all of the things we have been through over the last 7 years, it has simply gone downhill from there.

My general practitioner prescribed me Viagra a year or so ago to combat the Zoloft's affects.  I took one and then tried to force Patrick to have sex with me.  But he was struggling with his own issues then and he turned me down.  So I vowed never to try again. And I haven't.  But he has made a complete and sustained 180, and now that he wants to have sex, I am not interested.

I know that it is extremely important to the survival of our marriage, the one we have both started fighting for at the same time for once, to become intimate.  But even talking about it one-on-one with with our counselor yesterday, the physical reaction to the idea of having sex with Patrick is still there.  I get chills, and not the good kind.  The counselor told me that he would start working with us to learn intimacy all over again.  At this point that seems impossible to me. But if you had told me a month ago that I would be falling in love with my husband all over again, or maybe for the first time, I wouldn't have believed that either.  But I am.

So, our next step is to start at 1st base.  Apparently, we are going to relearn the whole kit and caboodle.  And in the meantime,  I need to talk to my psychiatrist about alternative options for treatment other than slowly causing liver failure to prevent suicide.  I appreciate her short-term vs. long term approach, but I'm in this life thing for the long haul, so I would like to do something to treat both.

Let's Talk About Sex (Part One)

I was awakened last night with a kind of scary epiphany. I think I have become a-sexual. As in, I have an utter lack of concern with sex. I could care less. I don't want it, I am doing fine without it, and I cannot imagine a situation in which it would be desirable. That is really scary. Prior to marriage I was very comfortable with my sexuality. I enjoyed sex, a LOT. I pursued, I enjoyed being pursued. There were the occasional one-night stands, testing of the waters. I didn't have sex for the first time until I was 19 and a freshman in college. I was going to save myself for "the one" and guys that age seemed to run pretty fast when they realized they were not getting the goods, so "the one" was impossible to find.

Enter my first real boyfriend. We started as friends. Over time I noticed that I was attracted to him though he wasn't the norm for me. He was a large, dreadlocked black man which was a huge no-no in my part of Texas. But we shrugged off the cold stares and hateful comments. He was a sophomore, older and wiser. Once he admitted that he had a thing for me, we carefully began feeling our way around a relationship. I was absolutely terrified because I knew that he had had sex before. I had to take Valerian root - a natural sedative - just to spend time with him. I was nauseated any time I was with him alone because I didn't know what was coming.

One night, while we were feeling each other out, quite literally, I felt something in no-man's land. I immediately jerked to attention and told him that nothing could happen and he told me to relax, it was only his thumb. Maybe a minute or two of cringing discomfort later he said, "I guess I should carve my name in your heart".

"What?" I asked.

"We just made love," he replied ever so sweetly.

That was it. That was my first time. I didn't even know that it happened. Now, because I felt that I had to stay with him because he was now "the one", after about a month of making him keep his distance I decided to let him be my teacher. He took that on with great joy. For the next four years, on and off, he taught me everything I know about sex. He was a wonderful, spiritual teacher and I was an eager student.

From that introduction came what was very nearly an addiction to sex. I cheated on every boyfriend I had because if an opportunity came along, I was not about to turn it down. I relished each guy as an important life experience. They made my life richer or taught me that looks didn't equal capability in bed. And from 19-25, sensuality was a defining aspect of my persona. I exuded it, as I was told by so many.

Fast forward to now...

I haven't had sex in probably a year or so, and a year and a half before that, but I don't miss it. I'm no longer sensual in any way. I let myself go, gained weight, lost my self-confidence. And now I have an actual physical reaction to the thought of having sex with my husband. I literally shudder. I don't think that it has anything to do with Patrick. He is a kind man and we are getting along spectacularly. I know that I am doing a grave disservice to our marriage by not having sex with him. There are so many possibilities for why I don't. We have spent our entire marriage trying to figure out why one or the other didn't want to have sex. In the beginning, say...the first five years, I wanted it and he didn't. And now, he wants it and I don't.

Now I have to figure out why. Just the intro to this topic has gotten rather long, so I will continue later with some of my rationalizations. In the meantime, have any of you ever gone for long periods without desire? Did you have a valid reason or was it a social drought? How do you feel about sexuality as a defining feature of yourself?