Got dilator two in all the way for the second time. So it was not a fluke! Dare I try number two for next week's exercise?
I was having some difficulties sleeping lately, feeling very nervous which I didn't like. It's amazing how much a good night's sleep can have on your body's chemistry. I wonder if have the severity of my depression wasn't just sadness about not sleeping. My skin used to be so bad, I had constant diarrhea, stomach pains, couldn't focus, and at one point the muscle that held up my eyelid actually stopped working so my one eye constantly looked droopy. Those were just some horrible times. And it amazes me how few people seemed to acknowledge it. I was just so fricken hard on myself all the time. Sometimes it took all the energy I had left just to hate myself. I just hated myself around the house basically, denying myself food, sleep, showers or video games. I did things that I found intentionally uncomfortable. I was a prisoner to my horrible and sadistic self.
Amazing really, how powerful the brain can be, truly amazing. Progress onwards.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
The dilators have arrived
Progress Log!!
Dilators arrived, there's five of them, they fit together like russian dolls in a little canvas bag. The instructions were outrageously simple.
-Wash dilator
-Apply lube
-Spread legs
-Insert slowly as far as comfortable and leave for five minutes
-Remove and rinse
-Repeat as needed
And so, after puttering about for a day or two, getting called out by the boyfriend for puttering about, and crying a little in frustration blah blah blah serious conversation, woe is me why was a born such a horrible stupid failure conversation, I decided to stop saying a bunch of ideas I no longer subscribed to and set an agenda.
Every day I get back from work, sign into my sex tumblr. Look at some sexy images, get out the vibrator, get relaxed, do the steps listed above and see how it goes. Then I take a nice shower and be done with it. See how I feel and then do it again the next day. Just finished the third day, this is how it went.
Day 1: Was at the boyfriend's house. At his urging I went into his room with the Number 1 size dilator and a some noise canceling headphones. Tried to relax, very unsuccessfully. Felt defeated. Inserted dilator, accompanied by severe burning sensation in urethral area, some internal burning, anxiety. Pushed on just a bit more than necessary. Thought I wasn't making any progress. Removed dilator to find it had actually been about 50-60% of the way in. Burning and discomfort persisted until I left the shower. Wondered if I could ever be normal.
Day 2: On my own time, did the following steps listed above. Was scared, but not as scared as the previous day. Tried to insert dilator, more pain and burning. Tried to open my legs. Caused a large amount of anxiety. Slowly opened my knees with the dilator in until anxiety faded. Left it in 60% of the way for about 5 minutes. Anxiety subsided but physical success only increased by a small percentage
Day 3: Lay on my bed expecting similar results, but was surprised to feel just a little burning. Tried to push it in a little further but it didn't seem like it was going to move. I lay there like that very still. Then I suddenly looked down to see it had gone all the way in. Like my body just suddenly engulfed it. I lay like that for about 5 minutes. Celebrated and took a long shower.
PROGRESS.
Day
Dilators arrived, there's five of them, they fit together like russian dolls in a little canvas bag. The instructions were outrageously simple.
-Wash dilator
-Apply lube
-Spread legs
-Insert slowly as far as comfortable and leave for five minutes
-Remove and rinse
-Repeat as needed
And so, after puttering about for a day or two, getting called out by the boyfriend for puttering about, and crying a little in frustration blah blah blah serious conversation, woe is me why was a born such a horrible stupid failure conversation, I decided to stop saying a bunch of ideas I no longer subscribed to and set an agenda.
Every day I get back from work, sign into my sex tumblr. Look at some sexy images, get out the vibrator, get relaxed, do the steps listed above and see how it goes. Then I take a nice shower and be done with it. See how I feel and then do it again the next day. Just finished the third day, this is how it went.
Day 1: Was at the boyfriend's house. At his urging I went into his room with the Number 1 size dilator and a some noise canceling headphones. Tried to relax, very unsuccessfully. Felt defeated. Inserted dilator, accompanied by severe burning sensation in urethral area, some internal burning, anxiety. Pushed on just a bit more than necessary. Thought I wasn't making any progress. Removed dilator to find it had actually been about 50-60% of the way in. Burning and discomfort persisted until I left the shower. Wondered if I could ever be normal.
Day 2: On my own time, did the following steps listed above. Was scared, but not as scared as the previous day. Tried to insert dilator, more pain and burning. Tried to open my legs. Caused a large amount of anxiety. Slowly opened my knees with the dilator in until anxiety faded. Left it in 60% of the way for about 5 minutes. Anxiety subsided but physical success only increased by a small percentage
Day 3: Lay on my bed expecting similar results, but was surprised to feel just a little burning. Tried to push it in a little further but it didn't seem like it was going to move. I lay there like that very still. Then I suddenly looked down to see it had gone all the way in. Like my body just suddenly engulfed it. I lay like that for about 5 minutes. Celebrated and took a long shower.
PROGRESS.
Day
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Update--Warning: Bad Grammar Ahead!
So I went to my appointment and survived.
Not only did I survive. I had one of the most amazing ob-gyn's I could have had. It was really more of a therapy appointment than anything else. Turns out I didn't need a pap smear, having such a low risk of having HPV. But she did put her finger in slightly, gave me an external exam, etc. to give me peace that I did in fact have a vagina. She encouraged me to purchase a set of vaginal dilators (which according to USPS could be here tomorrow!!) gave me a plastic speculum and some pap smear q tips to experiment with on my own, as well as an enlightening discussion of sexuality, 70s era feminism and why people can never pronounce anybody's last names!
Interestingly enough, I discussed with her the moment in time where I thought I developed vaginismus. I had always thought it wasn't legit enough. After all, I haven't ever been actually sexually assaulted, all my sex partners have been kind and gentle, and as far as I know, I haven't had any alarming genital contact at all. But apparently, sitting outside the door listening to something traumatic happening to somebody else actually counts as trauma. Which of course, seems really obvious in hindsight, but then there's that little complicating thing called Perspective. Which blurs everything and makes it hard to look from the outside (Of yourself? The only person you actually truly know.) and makes it hard to know which events are Really Bad instead of just Regular Bad. Hearing her reaction to my story made me feel incredibly validated. Like, Really? You think that an entire lifetime of sexual dysfunction, shame and admittedly, even at its lowest point suicidal ideation was actually a reasonable reaction to that event? Oh...
And that's that. That's the simplicity of seeking help really. All the scary, all the buildup, tears, anger, irritation the "I cannot do this" and the "this wont work". These are just simple words, with simple causes, explanations, and yes, even solutions. There is always a way up, and a way out.
She told me that there were other people like me, that some households had very different "vagina cultures" that made people's outlook on sex and sexual health very different from one another. She told me that I didn't have to subject myself to any part of the examination that I didn't want to. She told me that I was an amazing and strong person, that I took an amazing initiative to my own health, my progress seemed amazing, and that whoever I ended up with would be very lucky. I'd like to think that she's right. I am very flattered and very grateful.
Even a few days later, when my perspective on things often shifts drastically, I feel 100% positive and confident in my first successful visit to the gynecologist. (Although actually my second visit, the first ended in hysterics, although that doctor was very nice too. I just really wasn't ready.)
Looking forward to my incoming package this week. Will update with dilator progress!
Not only did I survive. I had one of the most amazing ob-gyn's I could have had. It was really more of a therapy appointment than anything else. Turns out I didn't need a pap smear, having such a low risk of having HPV. But she did put her finger in slightly, gave me an external exam, etc. to give me peace that I did in fact have a vagina. She encouraged me to purchase a set of vaginal dilators (which according to USPS could be here tomorrow!!) gave me a plastic speculum and some pap smear q tips to experiment with on my own, as well as an enlightening discussion of sexuality, 70s era feminism and why people can never pronounce anybody's last names!
Interestingly enough, I discussed with her the moment in time where I thought I developed vaginismus. I had always thought it wasn't legit enough. After all, I haven't ever been actually sexually assaulted, all my sex partners have been kind and gentle, and as far as I know, I haven't had any alarming genital contact at all. But apparently, sitting outside the door listening to something traumatic happening to somebody else actually counts as trauma. Which of course, seems really obvious in hindsight, but then there's that little complicating thing called Perspective. Which blurs everything and makes it hard to look from the outside (Of yourself? The only person you actually truly know.) and makes it hard to know which events are Really Bad instead of just Regular Bad. Hearing her reaction to my story made me feel incredibly validated. Like, Really? You think that an entire lifetime of sexual dysfunction, shame and admittedly, even at its lowest point suicidal ideation was actually a reasonable reaction to that event? Oh...
And that's that. That's the simplicity of seeking help really. All the scary, all the buildup, tears, anger, irritation the "I cannot do this" and the "this wont work". These are just simple words, with simple causes, explanations, and yes, even solutions. There is always a way up, and a way out.
She told me that there were other people like me, that some households had very different "vagina cultures" that made people's outlook on sex and sexual health very different from one another. She told me that I didn't have to subject myself to any part of the examination that I didn't want to. She told me that I was an amazing and strong person, that I took an amazing initiative to my own health, my progress seemed amazing, and that whoever I ended up with would be very lucky. I'd like to think that she's right. I am very flattered and very grateful.
Even a few days later, when my perspective on things often shifts drastically, I feel 100% positive and confident in my first successful visit to the gynecologist. (Although actually my second visit, the first ended in hysterics, although that doctor was very nice too. I just really wasn't ready.)
Looking forward to my incoming package this week. Will update with dilator progress!
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
The Final Frontier
Can't stop crying. I know that this is something that I want. No easy way out, no magic pill, cream or words to make it less scary. This is something that I want. I want to be normal, I want to be loved.
"Above all else, know that no matter how conflicted, fearful or traumatic your relationship to your genital are, it can change drastically for the better." Leah Lakshmi.
This I want to believe.
I want to believe.
I want to believe.
In just a few hours.
"Above all else, know that no matter how conflicted, fearful or traumatic your relationship to your genital are, it can change drastically for the better." Leah Lakshmi.
This I want to believe.
I want to believe.
I want to believe.
In just a few hours.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
The final countdown and 100th post
My GYN appointment is on wednesday. And although I'm more determined to get this over with than paralyzingly afraid, I still have my doubts. I can just see myself being assigned somejackass doctor that dismisses my opinions and doesn't help me. I feel very unsure of my abilities to assert myself and get answers.
All and all, I feel rather sad lately. I lay in bed and there's tears. Maybe it's hormonal. Or maybe I just feel lonely. I feel like I can't connect to anyone. I feel paranoid that everybody is against me. That my boyfriend is going to dump me. That I have no friends. The my ex is plotting to make me miserable for all eternity. Maybe I've been wrong about everything. Maybe I'm amounting to nothing. Maybe I was better off never existing in the first place.
Because this is a secret blog, I can say that. I'm sitting amongst the possessions of my dead family members and it makes it hard to think that the world can be a positive place. I just want to curl up in bed and get a good nights sleep for once. Very sad and lonely.
(Even though I remember that there is much progress and I'm thankful for my life, even when it hurts. But I get to indulge myself in sadness too.)
All and all, I feel rather sad lately. I lay in bed and there's tears. Maybe it's hormonal. Or maybe I just feel lonely. I feel like I can't connect to anyone. I feel paranoid that everybody is against me. That my boyfriend is going to dump me. That I have no friends. The my ex is plotting to make me miserable for all eternity. Maybe I've been wrong about everything. Maybe I'm amounting to nothing. Maybe I was better off never existing in the first place.
Because this is a secret blog, I can say that. I'm sitting amongst the possessions of my dead family members and it makes it hard to think that the world can be a positive place. I just want to curl up in bed and get a good nights sleep for once. Very sad and lonely.
(Even though I remember that there is much progress and I'm thankful for my life, even when it hurts. But I get to indulge myself in sadness too.)
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Orgasms!
Being a woman, figuring out the line between good feels and orgasms can be difficult. We don't frequently have ejaculate to 'mark' when we come. Sometimes there's small tremors, or a great big one, a few orgasms, or a plateau and no orgasms. It sometimes makes it really challenging to answer "Did you come?" I find my instinctual answer is, "Does it really matter?" If I say we should stop, I'm probably satisfied in some way or another, so does it really matter?
I find that guys find the concept of making girls come to be extremely important to their success as a man or something. It's something I often forget, not being a man, but it's so common in my experience for a partner to apologize or feel badly after a sexual encounter. And It makes me really start to understand why women fake orgasms. I mean, sometimes the line is so thin between orgasm or not, that to fake it doesn't actually require that much more effort. Simply responding yes to "did you come?" has a similar effect of making a guy feel good or manly versus bad or not enough. And it makes me wonder, what is wrong with our ideas on sex??
Why do we feel that there is a 'right way' to have sexual intercourse? Why do we think that there is a start and finish to every sexual encounter that's so cut and dry? And really, why does everything have to be cut and dry to begin with? Can't there be an inbetween? Yeah maybe I did want to come, but I was tired and I like being close to you? Or I wasn't really turned on much to begin with, but I liked the sensations regardless.
Anyways, I had my first set of somethings that I may definitively be able to call an orgasm. The thrashing, yelling, spasming kind. It was really cool, but it unsurprisingly hasn't invalidating any of my previous sexual experiences or relationships.
I find that guys find the concept of making girls come to be extremely important to their success as a man or something. It's something I often forget, not being a man, but it's so common in my experience for a partner to apologize or feel badly after a sexual encounter. And It makes me really start to understand why women fake orgasms. I mean, sometimes the line is so thin between orgasm or not, that to fake it doesn't actually require that much more effort. Simply responding yes to "did you come?" has a similar effect of making a guy feel good or manly versus bad or not enough. And it makes me wonder, what is wrong with our ideas on sex??
Why do we feel that there is a 'right way' to have sexual intercourse? Why do we think that there is a start and finish to every sexual encounter that's so cut and dry? And really, why does everything have to be cut and dry to begin with? Can't there be an inbetween? Yeah maybe I did want to come, but I was tired and I like being close to you? Or I wasn't really turned on much to begin with, but I liked the sensations regardless.
Anyways, I had my first set of somethings that I may definitively be able to call an orgasm. The thrashing, yelling, spasming kind. It was really cool, but it unsurprisingly hasn't invalidating any of my previous sexual experiences or relationships.
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