This is not the first time I have lost my mojo but it is annoying the hell out of me. I don’t know if I have ever been properly depressed, if so then not for a long time, but I sort of feel like this may be pre-depressed state. Like the stage before. Like if I don’t actually do something about this, then I may slip into somewhere that will be really hard to get back from. And it’s not as if I don’t want to get back. The desire for life is still there. And that is what frustrates me. I frustrate me. I am really, really, fucking annoying.
I am at the point where I can see all of the good stuff right at my fingertips. I can still see all the shit too and it is holding me back. It’s like the crap is pushing the good stuff out of reach. It’s not like I am unable to see things or do things. It’s like I am letting myself be like this. Allowing myself to remain in this numbness and irritation. It is as if I have a pain but don’t take painkillers and let myself suffer like some sort of mistaken martyr. And it feels self-indulgent to wallow like this, but also it feels like it is all that I have the energy to do.
The energy comes and goes. Mostly it is gone but then something happens and it sort of peaks. It’s there like a mania that has taken hold and I say rash things and make rash promises and actually feel good for a bit until I fall back into my inertia. And I think perhaps that is what it is, if you can have inertia while still going through the motions of a very busy life. I tick all of my boxes you see, but they don’t seem to matter. I am not the sort just not to do stuff, and it has not taken hold of me to an extent where I have been prevented from completing the things that I need to complete.
Its not that sort of thing I suppose. It’s an I’m all right on the surface sort of a thing. I probably look the same, and act the same, but I really don’t feel the same. I feel frumpy, and not sexy. I feel tired, and not energetic. I feel like I don’t want the hassle, rather than embracing the challenge. None of it makes sense. I am sort of drifting. I am out of control at the same time as being so completely in control that no one can help me. I am holding all the cards but not playing the game. I am the mess underneath which is perfectly presented on top.
More alarmingly, my need to be used and abused in the darkest of ways has been replaced by the desire to be left alone to quietly fall asleep. I used to feel like this and ask to be taken apart. Some rough anal or a fisting might have done it but now I am angling for a cup of herbal tea and maybe a Netflix series instead. I have lost my desire and my lust and my enthusiasm, and it stinks. I stink. I am so fucking irritated with myself that writing it all down was the only thing I could think of to do.
So if you happen to see my mojo floating around in the ether of the internet, kindly please send it my way. She has been missed: not just by me but by HL, and some other people too. Somewhere out there I am sure that she is happily twirling, with hands above her head, in time to the music, while she gyrates and moves as if she is the sexiest thing on the planet and has no care in the world. She is lost in her love of the things that make her move and dance. And I want her back!
I pledge my commitment to blog for my mental health. I will write about mental health topics not only for myself but for others. I do this to destigmatize mental illness and to promote mental health awareness & education. I am a sex blogger for mental health. #sb4mh #bfmh #notalone #SexNotStigma
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