By Lynn Rilean Smith
Mixing comedy, some truth, and some creative fiction. Finding the niche. I suppose I’ve been practicing for this my whole life. Don’t we all?
The Broken Button Diaries. Jack, his Stalk, but NO Bean. The Happy Button Diaries.
Okay seriously. No more coffee today. There is nothing happy about having a broken button.
So many different appropriate/inappropriate ways I could title this. But those few are enough for today.
I invite you to take this trip down lovers lane with me. You may get some giggles out of it. I know I’m giggling about the fact I’ve decided to put myself out there like this. Talk about starting with stupid. The word ( stupid ), I hate by the way. But it is fitting for today, tomorrow and probably everyday during this venture.
The truth hurts. The truth heals. The truth has hormones.
Grab your toosh and hold it tight. This ride might get a little bumpy.
Here we go.
A little bit of a love story mixed with some vaginal dementia? Yeah I like that term. I would say vaginal discharge but that doesn’t even exist anymore.
He ignored all the signs, even as they slapped him in the face. Where did he lose site? What did he do wrong? One day making love to her. The next, begging for affection? He couldn’t tell she felt sexually hollow. He didn’t know how to make it better. He did hold her and hang on.
Her is me by the way.
This is a true story and I plan to tell the shit out of it. Just incase your wires aren’t sparking either.
If anyone else has or is feeling this many cobwebs inside the cootch then bare with me. My goal is to find that old vagina voodoo again.
No! I can’t save the world. But, maybe I can save sex. I owe that to myself. I owe that to my husband. I’ve read the secret to a long healthy life is, sex. Great. That’s just great Karen but my Thumbelina appears to be broken. Come at me now Karen.
I will do everything in my power to find her again. The lover in me. The lover for him.
Today’s writing prompt comes from a hormone. Okay, it comes from guilt. One in the same somedays since I started wearing an estrogen patch or is it the depression medication?
“Don’t forget to go get that medicine or see that herbal lady.” he says as he leaves for work this morning. ( he is referring to something that may increase my sex drive )
He being the man of my dreams. My Prince Charming, my best friend, husband and love of my life.
If you have yet to live in a cycle of what I call today, The MAN ~O~ PAUSE. You’re blessed. Skip it if you can. Rare, but possible.
So Aka: Menopause.The Change. Midlife crisis etc. Climacteric, ( meaning turning point ) and I imagine if you google other terms it has plenty others.
There is nothing as dizzying as spinning around trying to get in tune with your sex drive once your hormones go into hibernation or what feel like to me, fall off the face of the earth.
Imagine, if you can; You enter a tunnel with a zillion twists and turns having no clue where you will end up. That’s my mental health during menopause. That’s my hormone imbalance, my unknown destination, my depression and my anxiety medication working against my ovaries. My best guess anyway.
Who are you when they’re not telling you how to do it? They as in, Doctors, Scientists, Pharmacists, Herbalists, books, podcasts, just to name a few.
Eg: I’m numb, I’m cold, I’m dried up, I’m physically empty, I’m confused, (so many expensive treatment options) I’m sad, I’m head over heels in love with life, my husband. Etc.
My husband is mint condition. Top of the line could not have hand picked better heart, soul or eye candy. He is sexy, attractive, loving and so kind. I can feel, hear and KNOW that he is MISSING a part of us. He should. I miss that part of me as well, of us!
I don’t physically feel the missing piece as strongly though. We are wired differently. I most definitely understand that part.
So many books have been written on how to improve your sex life. Talk about booming sales. Want a best seller? Write about sex.
How to Heat up the Bedroom. How to Release the Inner Sex Goddess you Hold Within. 101 New Positions to Try, and we can’t forget, Sex for Dummies. Yada yada yada.
Porn’s everywhere and sex toys are a girl’s best friend. Right? Don’t get me started.
I won’t debate with those topics because this isn’t the blog post for that.
The list goes on and on nonetheless of above referenced help for the bedroom.
It only hits a nerve for me. Maybe I’ll share that on another day.
Thank GOODNESS for the writer’s that share personal experiences.
We are all so different. If we’re lucky we can come across a a good book that houses the answer. It may only have one important sentence, but it saved the day. You have a new hero. They wrote to save your sex life. I must read more.
I’d give anything to even WANT to have an orgasm.
That’s where I’m at. That’s the hormonal hell I feel trapped in right now.
Grateful to those scientists and women that have studied, reported and released so much information to improve upon the intimacy with our partners.
Men know stuff also but I do think without ovaries it’s not as easy for you to hear what I’m telling you when I say I have fallen and my vagina can’t get back up.
Yet here I sit.
I can’t help but say WTF?
I sit and discuss the changes we as women go through amongst great friends. I am often left feeling even more confident that I’m not alone, but then I can’t grasp how so many just go through the motions because it’s a duty and a role as a partner. Why can’t I do that? Why would or should anyone do that? Why don’t I tick like that? Certainly it would be easier than feeling like I’m letting down my biggest fan?
I think a part of me must hold some hidden resentment or misguided belief system.
Did I start too young? Sex? Am I just in a place in life that no matter how amazing I know it feels, my brain and my body are just misfiring so badly it doesn’t matter? I’m too young to not be messing up the bed sheets. Right? According to research and people closest to me. I’m much too young. Leading me now to take it seriously because I want to live a long healthy satisfying life and without sex that’s impossible? Right? It better be.
By now you’ve either quit reading because you could care less about sex or ever having it again or you can’t stop reading because it involves the word sex. OR! You feel exactly the same way I do and you want to take this adventure with me. Either way I’m here to share my experiences with you. Maybe you have it all figured out and can offer me advice. If you tell me nothing will save my sex life then you are not the hero I am searching for. “Go!”, “Before someone drops a house on you too.” ( A Favorite Quote by the way)
Let’s start with medication.
In order to have a healthy functional sex life you can spend endless amounts of money seeking out Dr’s to prescribe a possible cure all. Change this medication and you may notice more discharge. Go try these new hip hormone pellets. Oh sweet bliss. Maybe?
Take away this medication that helps your insomnia and you might start having feelings in your clitoris again. You won’t sleep but you may get some feeling back.
Mix x amount of estrogen with two doses of progesterone. Sift in 1/4 teaspoon of testosterone, then stir.
The worst side effect is you may grow testicles and facial hair but he won’t care. You won’t be able to keep your hands off him.
So confusing. Right?
Again, another night and day passes. I watch my husband leave for work, I feel grateful and sad.
Sad because I see every single amazing thing we have ever done in and out of the bedroom. I see every I love you and smile. I feel every hug he has ever given me. I hear every word of encouragement he has ever spoken.
Where am I? What have you done with his wife? His best friend? His lover? She is missing and he is holding on by a thread in need of that which he knew so intimately a year ago. Okay. Feels like a year ago. Maybe a few months. Who’s counting? Oh yeah. He is.
I feel guilty. I feel unworthy. I feel inadequate. I feel unplugged. I feel my battery is dead. The only goosebumps I get today are when I feel a slight rise in my temperature from cold chills after a night sweat. Sure, when he kisses the back of my neck I get chills. It’s all in the wires. They just aren’t attached to the router. Aka Button.
By God I’m a determined individual. I can persevere with the best of you. Together we can climb mountains again. Maybe? Or Climax on top of mountains? Hmmmmm. What about CLIMAX all the way to the top of the mountain? Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.
Day 1. Journey back to sex.
Locate progesterone cream and or DHEA suppliers.
Found DHEA. As well as something called MACA. Which if you know me I was sold when she said MACA has a few extra ingredients.
As for the progesterone cream; It’s unavailable unless you get a prescription. Argh. Not ready for another Dr’s. appointment. Yet.
Day 2. Side effects of MACA: May cause upset stomach. Stomach Cramps. Stomach Bloating.
Okay, so explain to me how that is supposed to work?
Let’s get it on.
Insert I think I have to poop here.
By the way~ The woman who sold this to me at the natural foods store most definitely deserves saleswoman of the year. She could have sold sex to a crowbar.
Now I sit here waiting and wondering as I take two more this morning and plan to take two more this evening; Will my brain and its wire to my clitoris finally cross again? Omit a spark? Maybe?
Sex in the city. Nope. Not literally. Today’s what I like to call Girl’s Day.
I leave the comfort of my home (after the cramps from MACA subside), and I head to the salon. My pamper place. It’s also the salon I work at so the relationships within those walls are built from some kind of super human sheet-rock. Super human because what we say and hear there would cause the weakest structure to collapse. May the walls around you be strong.
It’s my day off. It’s my hair day. A favorite day and I get to also share sometime with a few of my other work sidekicks, what a treat that always brings. I decided to share with them about my current circumstance. Who better to seek advice from than other women who may be able to relate? My friend, aka hairstylist handles our conversations so well. She honestly does not charge enough for the talks we have. Our friendship could be a book in itself. BNOB- coming soon. Any guesses as to what BNOB stands for?
I’ll quickly simplify the end of day 3 for you.
My heroes among the work place, my pamper place. My buddies, my pals, and my girls. Those whom I’m so comfortable talking with, making no topic off limits. Are they my (g spot) guardian angels?
They say, “ Call 417-555-BIG- O.”
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Thank you for calling Big O, this is Jennie. How may I help you?
Me: Explains situation.
Jennie: Explains treatment options.
Me: $1200 for a shot in my what????
Jennie: Will you be paying with cash or card?
Funny right. $1200.00 to inject the clitoris with some magic potion.
It’s only $800.00 if I want to try hormone pellets and $400.00 every 4 months to recharge after that. Oh decisions, decisions. Those two angels may be onto something.
Day 4. It just started. Apparently MACA is full of fiber. I’m still trying to weigh the pros and cons, amongst other things, before I can leave the house. See you soon. I need a Tea. Believe me. I’ll be back! Spoken in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.
Update to day 4. Guess who’s back? Back. Back. Back again? Got it back. Back. Back. Tell a friend. Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back, Guess who’s back? Okay so I have nothing on Eminems version. But, believe me when I tell you that I just demonstrated to myself some ultimate mind over matter.
I knew it. I knew it couldn’t be gone for good. I won’t go into all the details in a blog entry. But I just made an herbal essence commercial. I saw an opportunity. For whatever reason; The make it happen now angels, whispered to me. “Rip those work clothes off of him.”
MACA or Mind Over Matter?