The impossible carrier

I know the following "illness" is not possible, yet I feel like I am some sort of carrier for Erectile Dysfunction. Five of the last six guys I have blown went soft in the middle of it.  At least two of them were kind enough to try to explain it wasn't my fault.  And even though that is sweet, the odds are against me.  Five of six is...83%. ( I googled that shit, as bad as I am at giving head, I am worse at getting math)  Uh... it looks like I'm bad at blow jobs.  The one of the six that did not go soft said "there is nothing wrong with your technique"  So, it's them, right?  Is ED really so prevalent?   For one guy, it happened only once, and he admitted it was the sudden realization of who was pleasuring him.  One was always drunk....another guy, no excuse, nor recognition of the problem.  Most recent said he wasn't feeling great before it, and was concentrating on not feeling horrible.   Then there is Mr.  He blames stress, medication, age, multiple sclerosis (which he prob doesn't have) or any number of other things.  He will not get it looked into.  He can't even tell when he loses his erection.  That can't be good.  We are in the middle of sex.  I am giving him my all....and he loses it.  Gone... and he doesn't know.  I don't know if that is ok or not.  I don't think it is.  The problem frustrates him... but he won't get it looked at.  The problem used to scare me.  It doesn't anymore.  I don't have the energy for him and his ways anymore. 


It is really hard to not feel like you are failing at something when you have negative reactions 83% of the time.  And though I know the ability to blow someone to orgasm should not be the basis of my self esteem.... it sure doesn't help. 

So the loss of Mr's erection in the middle of sex happened last night.  This has happened countless times in the last two years.  But last night... he lost it, and I asked, "did you seriously just lose your erection?"  he said "Did I?  I can never tell"  he had.  So disengaged the sex and laid next to him.  I got up to pee and when I came back to bed, he got up, got dressed and went outside for a cigarette.  I went to talk to him.  I knew he was upset.  But I had no words of comfort for him.  He said he hardly knew who I was anymore.  He said I was seeming out of control  He is stressed to the max at work.  He is really struggling with it.  I said "And having a crazy wife isn't helping".  He said "I was trying not to say that."  well, if it's true, say it.  Problems can not be solved if they are not talked about.  Hold it all in and it will tear you apart.  Tear us apart more than we already have been.  But whatever.  He hasn't been able to talk to me for 18 years.  Why should he start now.

Symptom or trigger?

Does it really matter?  A lack of good restful sleep.  It can cause a hypo-manic episode.  It can also be a symptom of said episode.  Either way, the two go hand in hand.  So if I find myself not sleeping well, I check my mood.  Am I getting ill again?  If my mood seems out of whack, I look at my sleep pattern.  The stupid thing is, it doesn't do anything for me to check these things.  I am tired and hypo-manic.  The only thing my knowing those facts means.... is that I know these facts.  The knowledge doesn't alleviate the the lack of sleep or the mania.  Time is the only thing that does that.  Though, knowing I am 'Ill' again means I can tell people I am ill.  Other people knowing I am sick, I think, helps them to forgive me.  Forgive my behavior.  Forgive my grouchiness.  I don't think it really helps them to not be hurt by my actions, but at least they can blame my illness and not me.  Well, a bit anyway. 

The foe with no name (except it did have a name)

I am a cheater and a liar.  I try to be honest, but it has usually gotten me nowhere but in trouble.  So... fuck it.  Lie to get what I want, avoid what I don't want.

I don't want to spend time in the house just to be ignored.  I am not saying that I must be the center of attention, ick.  But I would like to feel.... I don't know... enjoyed at least.  Mr has a routine for everything.  The mornings getting ready for work.  The evenings when he comes home.  Night time when it's bed time for Little Man, and even later when it is Mr's turn to go to bed.  Between each routine, he sits at the computer and reads forums on old tools.  I am sure there are other blogs and forums that he reads, but mostly just old tools.  He checks out his facebook... and plays Spider Solitaire.  If I try to bring up a conversation with him, I have always felt like I am just an interruption.  Whether this is how he feels about it or not is, of course, unclear.  So, I lie and say I need to go out to do some writing, or I am going to my support group, or going to hang out at my BFF's.  Only to try to see another guy.

In 2010, I started spending more time with a guy I have known since The Teen was in Kindergarten.  Always liked the guy.  He was gruff, and funny, and warm, and different.  He also had a great laugh and piercing blue eyes.  Q's marriage was in trouble.  I couldn't believe it.  They had always seemed so happy.  They had recently taken a family trip across the country for a family reunion.  Turns out, she was texting her extra marital through the whole trip.  At the time, I thought she was bitchy.  How could she not want Q?  But she didn't.  There was something missing, and she wanted or needed it enough to seek it from someone else.  Now I get it. I don't know what she wasn't getting or what she found, but I get it.  Q and I kissed.  A little peck on the cheek, then on the lips...and eventually, those kisses on the lips lingered and became almost painfully desired by me.  The first time Q and I truly sat together and kissed and cuddled, and let our tongues seek out and find each other's.  I whimpered.  It was... embarrassing. It was...awesome.  For 15+ years, my marriage was made up of routines that ruled every aspect of Mr's life.  Waking up, going to work, breaks at work, coming home... EVERYTHING... yes, including sex.

Q showed me that it didn't have to be routine.  That I could feel wanted.  It was amazing, and terrifying, and exhilarating, and wrong in how right it felt.  I was more comfortable with him than I can remember being with anyone.  Even Mr.... even in the beginning.  But reality set in, and Q started feeling guilty and left me.  Alone, in a passionless marriage.  We never had sex.  Q wouldn't let it get that far.  We had been planning an overnight out of town.  He walked away a week and a half before that.  We might not have had sex, but the damage was done.  I knew that I was a desirable woman.  I knew that a guy could want me enough to push me up against a wall and kiss me deep and hard.  It was possible for a man to accept my desires and feel confident enough to show me his.  It really was a very heady experience.  Q closed to door on us, but opened the flood gates for me.  I wanted to be desired like that.... mostly by Mr.  I tried again (and still) to bring out such openess with Mr, but he just wouldn't let go and relax or have confidence.  I learned so much from Mr that winter.  It caused me despair.  I wanted passion, I wanted connection, I wanted true intimacy. I couldn't get it.  Mr couldn't provide it.  "I have asperger's.  I can't...." "you're asking me to change the core of who I am"  "I think you are judging me against every other lover you have had..."

Wait... WHAT?  Are you KIDDING ME?  Is this why you are so shy in bed?  Is this why you seem to drift off to some other place when we are having sex?

"yes"

And you have felt like this all along?

"yes"

YOU SON OF A BITCH!  All these years that I have been trying to connect with you, trying to draw you to me.... asked you what was wrong, where you were going in your head.... and you said 'i don't know' you were lying?  You knew?

"yes"

FUCK YOU.
I was furious.  I was fighting a battle that he knew the name of, and hid it from me.  He was afraid I would leave him.  He didn't trust me.  He says he did, does... but I said, "if you knew what was going on, didn't tell me because you thought I would leave you, you didn't trust that I would try to work it out.  You didn't trust that I would stay.  You don't trust that I love you"

"But I do trust you.... I trust you love me"

"your actions say something completely different"

I am still furious.  He knew the answer to a 10 year emotional battle and kept it from me.  Watched me try desperately to work it out, figure it out, connect with him.... all the while he knew what it was, and just watched me flounder.  I realize (and try to be compassionate) about the the fact that this is all his insecurity.  But ... it feels like he was gaslighting me.  It feels like abuse.  It is abuse.

Insecurity.  The foe's name that I didn't know but he did.

Planning for Disaster

We are upside down on our home.  So many Americans are.  Our problem stemmed from Mr. going on disability last year.  There was a delay in income, and we were not able to pay the mortgage.  Apparently, you can't just not pay for a couple months and start paying again.  We have been trying to do a loan modification.  Of course it is with BofA and it's a royal pain in the ass.  Mr. has a plan, and I don't like it.  I don't want any part of it.

The disability was due to Mr. having some type of 'episode' in which he could hardly move or talk or comprehend anything.  One time in the ER, he could not move his body at all.  His muscles were rigid.  The doctor tried to bend his legs and got annoyed with Mr. when he wouldn't move.  Mr. tried to tell Doc that he couldn't help it.  I don't know if Doc took him seriously.  I talked about that incident at my bipolar support group and was told that Mr. had gone catatonic.  Mr. was put into IOP (intensive outpatient program) for six weeks.  Hence..the disability.  Mr. was anxious, unfocused, had leg muscle problems.  He tuned out more that usual (if that's even possible) I worked my cafe job.  I took care of the kids.  I tried to be as gentle around Mr as possible.  Mr. blamed the medication he was on.  Antidepressants.  They can cause problems for many people.  At one point, Mr. went suicidal.  He left the house while I was in the shower and headed for the railroad tracks.  He left his keys, his cell phone, his wallet but took his driver's license. I called friends, I called the police.  I was scared.  I pulled The Teen from school to stay with Little Man while I looked.  Many police officers arrived.  Srgt Faulkner was awesome!  He was compassionate, but honest. He read the suicide note I had found in Mr's journal and told me is was frightening.  The possibility that Mr was suicidal was extremely high.  He actually told me to prepare.   He took to The Teen which was nice.  i Called his therapist and left voice mail.  I called my therapist and left voice mail.  Eventually the hospital called.  Mr. had checked himself in.  Relief abound!  Officer Cooper went to the hospital to meet Mr. and recommend a 72 hour hold. I went to see Mr.  He asked me to go home and prepare him for the 72 hour hold he was willing to be committed to. I went home and did that.  My sister drover up to be with me.  Friends had gathered but gone home when Mr. was reported safe.  I was able to sleep.  In the morning, I prepared for meeting Mr at the mental facility.  Then I got a phone call.  Mr was being released from the ER.  he would not be going on 72 hour hold.  "WHAT?"  I met Mr. at the hospital and was aggravated by the fact that no one called me to see if I felt comfortable with him home.  No one asked if I felt like I could keep him safe.  I became so angry that I had security called on my to escort me off campus.  I was still yelling as I walked through the parking lot.  I was told that I needed to listen to them and leave or face being arrested.  I turned and said " I am leaving.  I AM listening to you!  No body is listening to me!  No body asked if I was ok with him coming home!  Did you know that he had been admitted previously for suicidal thoughts?  Did you know that he left the house while I was in the shower?  Did you know that he left a suicide note? "  The doctor admitted that he did not.  I said..." Well, you would have, IF YOU HAD TALKED TO ME!" The doctor reiterated that Mr seemed to be in his right mind.  I was sure he was no longer suicidal.  He was safe... I left.  There was nothing else to say.  As Mr got up from his viewing spot on a wall, hearing all I had said, he walked ahead of me and said that I could just drop him off somewhere.  "Don't be ridiculous" I told him.  Then Little Man's teacher called.  He was having a hard emotional day and his teacher was asking if I could help calm him down.  I did.  Then took Mr home.  He had a psych appointment alter that day and asked if I would like to attend.  I said "Of course".  On our way, I had him stop at my work so I could tell my boss I couldn't work my shift that night.  He was very understanding.  Mr, not so much.  He didn't understand why I felt the need to baby sit him.  I said I didn't think it was fair to leave The Teen home with him, as The Teen was very scared and worried.  As was I.  Mr became almost enraged.  I didn't want him home because I don't love him.  Why couldn't I  believe that he is in his right min?  "Because you are claiming I don't love you.  That I don't care about you, that I don't want you in the house.  And though I understand why it seems I don't WANT you in the house, it is that I don't feel like you are safe.  That's why I can't believe you are in your right mind"  All kinds of horrible things were said while he was "in his right mind"   He didn't understand that I was having a hard time accepting that in lest than 24 hours he went from walking to the railroad tracks to end his life... to being perfectly emotionally and mentally stable.  He didn't understand why I was still scared.  He blamed his drugs.

At the appointment he went in, I was kept out.  Then I was invited in and told "Though we believe he is safe, we also know he is really fragile.  You need to do your best to avoid stress, be reassuring" Be there for him. I felt too responsible for his well being to ask the hard questions.  So we left.  Later that day, I called his therapist and asked if she knew he had been admitted for suicidal thoughts before.  No, she replied.  Were you aware he had written a suicide note?  No, she replied.  Of course  not, because no one talked to me.  No one asked me what I knew or how I felt.  My kids were scared.  The Teen understood what was going on, he was old enough, aware enough.  Little Man, well he is first grade in a CH room.  Communicatively Handicapped room.  He saw all the police cars and their officers at our house.  He was taken to my BFF's house so he wasn't there for all of it.  He didn't know what was happening, but he knew there was extra stress in the house.

After I called Mr's therapist, she contacted him and told him of my concerns.  He knew them already, I had screamed them at the doctors in the ER.  Mr sat with me and asked again why I couldn't just let it go.  I told him that my world had come crashing down around me.  It was going to take a little time to rebuild it.  I told him that he had been getting worse and worse emotionally, and because of his Asperger's and his inability/lack of desire to share anything like that with me, I had no idea it was happening.  I felt guilty.  But I was also angry at the Asperger's.  I was terrified that if it happened again.  To which he again said it won't it was just the medication... I would never know if he was getting sick again.  He never changes.  He gets upset, sure, but we all do.  But when his mind is racing with negativity, he will never express it.  Will never be able to.  It's been six month since he walked away to find his death.  I haven't healed fully yet.  I don't know that I ever will.

Fucking great

Mr is getting transferred.  Everyone in his department is.  They are moving to a building in the middle of effing nowhere.  He used to ride his bike to work.  This will no longer be an option.  The ability to walk across the street for a coffee and a snack, doesn't exist at the new building.  This is his second reassignment in two months.  The first one was because the project he'd been working on for almost five years was killed.  Now it's because his whole department is merging with a bunch of other departments.  He is not happy with where he will be going.  It's not just the location change, but the job change as well.  He will be in a very people oriented position now.  He will be on the phones answering questions from pushy people, angry people, anxious people.  This is the absolute opposite of the type of job an Aspergian should have.  His stress level is already so elevated, and he doesn't start the new job until next week.  His stomach was in knots.  He was shutting down and shutting out before he even got home.  All the isolation problems we have now, will elevate to unbearable levels, and soon.  He has the opportunity to take an IT position.  It would be a $550 a month pay cut.  He said he didn't want to risk making the whole family miserable by losing so much pay.  I told him, stay at this new job, and you will make us all miserable.  Of course he responded with something like "yeah...but".  Whatever.  There is nothing I can do.  He will either apply for the IT position or he won't.  Either way he decides, there will be some emotional prepping I will need to do.  I have been looking into full time State work.  One paying app $2,000 a month.  If need be, that should be enough to allow me to move out.  I just don't feel it anymore.  I just don't.  I wish I did.  But I have no interest in intimacy with him at all anymore.  It's been building up for a while, but I am starting to think that the worst of it came when I found out about The Teen no longer being a virgin.  I will have to ask The Teen when the shit hit the fan on that one.

So now I am at a coffee joint sipping an espresso drink, and posting.  I have so much to say, so much to sort out... and not doing well with any of it.

Boys... they will fuck you up.  That was the phrase that pays for me and my best friend today.  I am in such a funky state of mind lately.  I want to write more...but I am tired.  I will try to post more tomorrow.

What is a Leveled Wave?

My emotions come in waves.  Waves of happiness and sadness.  Agitation and calm.  Depression and hypo-mania. 
Mr. has Asperger's Syndrome.  No empathy.  Difficulty picking up on social cues.  No (or seriously few) mood swings.  No waves of emotions.
Because of this, my emotional waves are very upsetting to him.  He doesn't understand them.  Nor do I fully understand his lack of empathy, or his lack of comfort with eye contact.
Last year, I sought psychiatric help for depression.  I was handed the diagnosis of bipolar disorder.  And I was given medication to calm my brain away from going hypo-manic.  This caused depression, so I was given an anti-depressant.  This balanced my brain.

My emotional waves were leveled out with medication.

Leveled waves.