I am a flake. A flakey flake. All my life I have been deeply engrossed in certain things, projects, studies, relationships and jobs, only to abandon everything all of the sudden. There were often pretty obvious reasons for that. My mental health declined terribly so I had to drop out of university. I quit a job because it was too taxing. Or my feelings for someone had vanished so it made sense to end the relationship. But a lot of times, I didn’t have a clear idea about what was going on and why I was suddenly losing all interest and motivation, why there was no more passion or emotional connection to the thing that had meant so much to me.
So when I lost interest, passion and the emotional connection to my blog, I panicked. Because I wasn’t necessarily in a deep depression, nor had anything major happened that would explain my sudden disinterest. And the weirdest thing was that I also lost interest in sex at the same time. Maybe that is the wrong way to describe it. I felt absolutely disgusted and appalled by my own body, to the extent that I once again couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, look down when taking a shower. And my libido disappeared.
Usually, I am someone who is quickly up for sex, even begging for it. But I was absolutely indifferent towards sex. I didn’t need it. I still wanted to please my Master, my relationship with him was still deeply important to me. Our sexlife had never worked that way though. He needs to feel that I want it, that I have a need for it, for it to be pleasurable for him. And I didn’t want to get off. The times we tried, the orgasms were subdued, unnecessary. So not only did I lose the passion for my blog, I also felt disconnected from my body.
Figuring it out
There I was, not understanding what was going on. I am usually pretty self-aware and can figure out my emotions and reactions. And when I can’t, I panic because something is off and I don’t have any explanation for it. I tried to find the depression symptoms, I tried to look for triggers, for reasons. After weeks of thinking and reflections, I might have finally figured it out. Not might have, I have figured it out.
The disconnection from my blog had been going on for a longer while. I know that it has been chewed through over and over, but we all lost the sense of community. The whole blow-up, transphobia, bullying, threats, really took the air out of the sexblogging community. And I had lost the safe space I felt I needed to be able to express myself. I have moved on from it, and grown from it, which I think most of us have. But it still didn’t feel right for a long time, and to be able to be vulnerable like many of us with our blogs, it needs to feel safe to do so. Things felt different. Change is hard and I needed to feel safe again.
Add to that that my sexdrive was at about zero, and my body image was a very negative one, and it makes sense why I abandoned the blog for a while. It wasn’t like I lost my passion, it was more that I had lost the things that had motivated me to write.
I had nothing to write about that was sex-related and this is a sexblog after all. I pushed and pushed, and I tried, but I was dried out (pun pun!), both mentally and physically. It is sad really, because I limited myself by only wanting to write about sex, worrying that I would lose my audience if I wrote about other things. And then trying to pressure myself to take pictures when I literally cried about how fat, disgusting, old and terrible I looked when seeing myself in the mirror, was not a very healthy thing to do.
But here I am again. I am not pressuring myself. The reason why I am able to take pictures again is that I listened to myself. I needed to feel the need to do it, the willingness, the interest, the passion. So the other week, I started to plan some shoots and they just didn’t turn out the way I wanted them to be. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that I wanted to again.
And finally I came up with something that represented who I am at the moment, a way to feel sexy without being too bold, showing too much. And it worked out. Because I adapted and listened. And it was fun too. I don’t look at my most recent pictures and am appalled. I am satisfied with the result, the outfit, the position, the setting, the edit. Does that mean that I am over my negative body image? Nah. But it means that I have worked around it, and with that, I have been able to find my passion again.
And the same thing sort of happened with my writing. I have been slowly reworking the book I had been writing on. Also, here I am, writing a proper blogpost. I remember a chat I had with a friend about rebranding my blog as a lifestyle blog so I would feel more comfortable to write about things that are not sex-related. And I am okay writing about sex again, I think, but I should also not feel like I can’t write about other things.
I got so caught up in my head about branding and that I would lose my readership if I suddenly wrote about other things on my mind. But this is my space. And I can use it for whatever I want to. It is always primarily going to be a sexblog, but there is nothing wrong with showing the world other parts of my life, than what is under my clothes or what happens in my bedroom.
I feel like I am in a much better place when it comes to my blog. So I am just going with the flow for now, but the block that I had felt, seems to have lifted. I can write when I want to. And about what I want to as well. I can take pictures when I feel the inspiration. No pressure but more pushing myself to use the inspiration and motivation that I have. This is my space, the validation of others is lovely, but in the end it is about creating something that comes from a place of passion.
Stressors, Triggers and Burn-Out
That explains and opens up the blogging issue. But what actually happened that made me lose my interest in sex, and blogging in the first place? This is where it gets complicated. You could say that life got in the way, and that is sort of true. Most of January, and the beginning of February, I was really busy with moving. It was really stressful as we had to do it all on our own.
And the weeks after, I was burnt out. I don’t have a lot of energy to begin with, and it really sucked it all out of me. At the same time, I went through a lot of other stressors and triggers. I know that it might sound silly, but the whole Marilyn Manson drama really forced me to re-evaluate a lot of my past life and I had to come to terms with that someone who for most of my life had guided me through difficult times, is a sadistic abuser. And then I also found out and had to deal with that my sister was stuck in an abusive relationship. And yet again, I realized that my own healing would need to take a lot of energy and consistency, something I don’t have.
I tried out therapy for a month. It was online, via video, and the therapist was nice enough. But she also made it clear that she didn’t think that she should be the only person supporting me because I am such a complex case. It didn’t work out because I am really bad at opening up and talking about myself, at being vulnerable. And the money spent on the therapy felt like a waste. In the end, this actually led me into a depression because I felt so hopeless and helpless. I didn’t have the energy to work on getting better, and just a few appointments made me feel absolutely burnt out.
Now it would make sense that my lack of sexdrive and want for sex were caused by the stress and triggers. That life and its tribulations got in the way. But it really wasn’t. Because in the past, it didn’t matter where I was mentally, I always wanted to fuck. I was down with it, it was a fun distraction, no matter bipolar episode or triggers that day. But hey ho, this time it was different. And now I know why.
This is going to get complicated, so bear with me! As most of my readers know, I suffer from Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly known as multiple personality disorder). One of the main symptoms is that you don’t have one coherent personality, that you are not a single person. Instead, you are made out of a system of alters (personalities) that have come into being due to terrible childhood trauma.
Each alter holds different memories and has their own personality, likes, behaviours and such. They are their own person. And they can all front (be the person interacting with the world) at different times, together (co-conscious) or have passive influence. If your brain once has created an alter to hold terrible memories and to handle certain situations, it will use that coping strategy again if needed. That is why it is really uncommon for anyone with DID to only have one alter, most have several, with different functions, skills, memories, and traumas. If you have been able to follow me so far, yay you!
One of the functions can be the “host”, being the person fronting and interacting with the world the most, and making most of the system’s and body’s decisions. Hosts can change over time, it rarely is the same alter for one lifetime. There are over 30 alters in our system, and we have had the same alter hosting for about three years. But with all the stressors, the burn out, the triggers, a new alter got created, and that alter became the host. Complicated. They don’t have the same needs and preferences as the old host, and one of the main differences is the lack of interest in sex.
The focus is instead on improving our quality of life, to do things in real life, to try therapy, to heal, to not get stuck. Boom. Now it all makes sense. The lack of interest in sex, in blogging, the sudden hate for the body again, the different priorities. It was actually our Master who discovered the new alter, asking: “Who are you?”. Mind blown.
I am not that alter. I am the old host. But the good thing is that the system works differently now. We don’t communicate much still, and we hate talking about all things DID (so this is really a huge exception). But the new host is softer and more accepting, and allows parts to come out when they have needs that can be met. And with that gate now opened, the needs and passions returned. What does that mean? It means that I can write the blog, that we can take pictures. And that when a need can be met, it will be met.
This realization has helped a lot with the sexlife as well. Both my Master and I realized that there is no need to always focus on “finishing”. We both love the playing-part of sex the most anyway. So we are slowly returning to spending more physical time with each other. The last two days, there was just a lot of play, a lot of touching, slowly building up, instead of waiting until one of us wants to fuck, and then missing each other’s cues. It is way more fun to play, and then see where it leads.
It is about leaving the gate open and if someone feels the needs, they will be there. And there is always someone who wants to be touched, hurt, played with. And that doesn’t have to be the host. I think that can really be applied to most relationships that struggle with their sexlife, or when the libido is being nowhere to be found, that spending time together and having an open mind without pressure, really is the best approach.
I am glad that I have started to understand things again. It all makes sense again. Life can be confusing in so many ways. My ways might be more confusing than others, but reflection and self-awareness have led me to a place where I can start again. And because I am in such a different place than I was in 2018 when everything fell apart yet again, the DID was discovered and I had to start over. This time I don’t need to start over, I can just approach things differently. No passions lost, no relationships ruined. However much my life seems like a huge fuck-up, I am glad that I am able to understand things differently now.