So I started my day with pineapple/orange/banana juice, and that was a great start to the day. Felt good, had high energy, was ready to take on the world.
But something was nagging at me, and I wasn't really fully aware of it at the beginning of the day. Yesterday, I realized that a lot of the tension in my low back and hip have been sex-related. Like sexual issues that have not been resolved. Jason has been having erections more like he did in high school, just random ones showing up (hey, that's a sign of a healthier heart!) and they are waking him up in the night. They are quite ... ummmm ... well ... what's the PG term? Stalwart? Insistent? I've been enjoying these surprises IMMENSELY! But stuff has been coming up for me whenever we've had sex in the last few days. Lots of tears, lots of guilt, feeling like he's a better lover than me, like I'm not doing enough to please him, like I'm a failure in bed because there are certain things that my body simply will not do because of the excess weight that is still on me. I mean it was coming up hardcore!! I actually told him that I feel sometimes like my vagina is his consolation prize when my hands or mouth can't "deliver the goods", even when I want to and try. He has done everything he can to reassure me that he loves being with me, that the love we make is wonderful and extremely enjoyable for him, and how great he feels whenever we have sex.
But some part of me is really struggling with how to believe him. I have no reason that I can pinpoint for why I would not believe him, or any specific instance in my past that I can think I might be comparing things to ... it's just sort of ... THERE! Just this disbelief, this issue of trusting what he's saying when it comes to sex. I have no trouble believing him when he says other things.
So we had sex today and I couldn't truly enjoy myself. I mean, I came like 4 times, because Jason is a freakin' AMAZING lover, but I wasn't fully there for it. I have felt like I'm "less than" because I have never been able to bring him to orgasm when we do a 69, and that thing was what we did today. As well, I've never been able to bring any guy to orgasm doing this, so I feel like there's something wrong with me. I started bawling like a freakin' baby because my issues of inadequacy came up again, and again he reassured me that with time, as we lose the weight, we will be able to do more things. He also talked about his own fears and feelings, since guys are "supposed to hold it back", which I truly have NEVER understood!! I mean, I'm not supposed to hold back my orgasm for some purpose, why should he? I've never believed that there is such a thing as "premature ejaculation". I don't care if he comes in 10 seconds (any guy, not Jason specifically), 10 minutes or an hour. Whenever he wants to come, I say go for it! But he's got his tapes playing about what a guy is supposed to do to please a woman, just like I've got my tapes playing about what a woman is supposed to do to please a man. So our issues sometimes get in the way of us truly enjoying each other.
I was feeling like emotional detox was baring down on me hard, right in the middle of sex. But isn't that part of what a fast is for? To engage in emotional detox, too? Why yes, I believe it is! And the darned detoxing never comes up at a convenient time, does it?
So when we were done, all I wanted to do was eat pizza. Don't get the sex I want because of my own feelings of inadequacy? Why YES! A pizza would drown that feeling QUITE nicely! I mentioned this to Jason, and he said, "Well, do you need to explore this and eat some pizza?" I immediately went into all the reasons why I shouldn't, how I didn't want people to think ill of me for "fucking up", how I wanted to go the full 90 days, and that I was realizing that I was really missing HIM! I was missing the times we spent going on dates, hanging out, getting a bite to eat, laughing together in a restaurant, holding hands across the table, just being close with one another and sharing our time and lives together. And I didn't know how to feel close to him on a date without rich food!! THAT hit me like a ton o' bricks.
"Look let's just drive toward our favorite place, and you can decide when we get there", he suggested. I was so confused and knew that I didn't want to put anything toxic or addictive into my system, but I was SICK of juice, of juicing, of missing out on fun Saturday nights, and of missing chewing. So I got in the car with him and we started driving. "You're not an angel", he said. "Well, you're an angel to me, but I mean, you're not supposed to be perfect. People eat on fasts and then go back on the fast. I'm not telling you to eat, but what is it you need right now? To look perfect to your readers, or to deal with your emotional stuff? People will see that you are human if you eat on Day 40. It doesn't mean that you can't keep going. It doesn't mean that you have to swallow the pizza. It doesn't mean that you are a fraud or a liar or a failure. It just means that you are a human who is battling the same demons as lots of other people are. I love you and support you whatever you decide."
We arrived at the pizza place, and I sat in the car with him for a few minutes, unsure of what I truly wanted to do. I started getting upset, and felt paralyzed with anxiety and indecision. We talked more, and he reassured me that we could even order it, and I could totally ask him to box it up and we could leave, never eating a bite of it, that it was my choice, and that he wouldn't judge me either way. And suddenly, I felt this overwhelming urge to just be free of all of it. Free of the decision. Free of the attempts at great health. Free of the guilt. Free of the GMO's, the cheese, the temptations. Free of food. Free of juice. Free of thinking anymore. Free of the fucking ISSUES!
I decided to tackle the demon instead of running away from it. I decided to look it square in the face and DEAL with it!!!
We went in, and we ordered a large pizza. Jason also ordered a Greek Salad, which I had a few bites of. His half of the pizza had double onions, double cheese and sausage. My half had double cheese, artichoke hearts, black olives and pineapple. And I know, that is not vegan. Baby cows were stolen from their mothers to make that cheese. And truth be told, as the pizza arrived, I was thinking to myself, "How do I break this addiction to casein? How do I stop eating stolen milk?" And that made me feel like shit. It always does. So I feel guilty about a thing, then eat it, then have to go numb to keep eating it, then have all kinds of remorse after the numbness wears off, GAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! Jeebus! I'm tired of the fucking GUILT! Why are we put on this shit in the first place??? SERIOUSLY! WHY??? Why are we told that milk designed to grow a 600-800 lb. animal does OUR bodies any good at all??? It's got chalk and fake vitamins, and unabsorbable calcium and pus and blood and antibiotics and all kinds of other shit in it ... but yet we still want more! No amount of guilt was stopping me from ordering pizza. No amount of fear of what you would think of me was stopping me. No truths about GMO's or anything else was getting to the core of my issue. What the fuck was wrong?
We talked more about what we had been experiencing in bed while we waited for the meal. The pizza arrived, and I thought about my new epiphany from a few days back about how if I wanted to binge, why not just eat the bite I really wanted first, and then it would all be something of a disappointment after that. Maybe I wouldn't eat as much that way. So I looked at the pizza, and Jason helped point out the lovely chunks of artichoke hearts that he knows I love so much. We both decided on the same 2 "best" pieces of my half, and we put them on my plate. I can't eat the bread (gluten intolerance) so I pulled the cheese back and put a little bit in my mouth. I started to chew, and made sure that I chewed slowly. VERY slowly. Deliberately. I paid attention to how my salivation had increased dramatically due to all the juicing. I noticed what the cheese felt like in my teeth, on my tongue, on the roof of my mouth. I noticed the saltiness, and how quickly I used to chew and swallow ... without chewing well at all. I asked myself why pizza was dulling my feelings of inadequacy in the bedroom, and if it even really was, or if it was hot, greasy, chewy entertainment that distracted me from how I felt about my own sexual abilities or perceived inabilities. How were these connected? Why did I want to go out for pizza with Jason after being disappointed with myself over sex?
I didn't come up with an answer at first. What I did realize was that the cheese felt like bubblegum in my mouth. I mean, I must have chewed it like 50 times, and it just wouldn't disintegrate, so I spat it out and put the gum-cheese on my plate. Then I took an artichoke heart and put it into my mouth. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, this warm, soothing feeling came over me. As the thing melted in my mouth, I realized that I was getting a kind of foreplay from chewing this artichoke. I felt a similar feeling wash over me as I do when someone that I am attracted to caresses my skin. Goosebumps popped up all over my forearms, shoulders and neck, and I felt my eyes start to roll back in my head. And then it hit me, like a freakin' lightening bolt!
I wanted pizza to make me feel good about sex when I don't feel good about the sex I'm delivering. Pizza has been my consolation prize when I think I suck! I realized that it's what I get when I can't get what I want and need, or what I look for when I feel inadequate. It gives me pleasurable feelings, "fills me up", satisfies oral fixations, leaves me feeling all warm and fuzzy when I taste it. My god, pizza IS a kind of sexual act for me, and I was having this pizza WITH JASON! It's like an extension of our sex for me!
Typically, I would tell you everything, if it were up to me. But I can't go into the deeply personal details about what Jason and I want in our sex lives that we are not getting, because I need to protect some people here whose permission I don't have to discuss their personal details. Both Jason and I know that because of love that we feel with other people that we met before we knew each other, and because of specific things that have occurred in our lives, that there are certain needs we cannot meet for each other. We have both been let down a lot. (Haven't we all?) We both want and need very specific things that the other simply is not capable of delivering. And we've even had very candid conversations wherein we have discovered that, because of circumstances beyond our control, we have sort of, on a certain level, "settled for" each other. I mean, that is an oversimplification, and it isn't entirely accurate (it's not like we just tolerate each other). We truly ARE delighted with each other, we laugh a LOT together, we are genuinely insanely crazy for each other, we adore kissing and having sex with each other, and the list of pro's goes on and on ... it's just that we acknowledge that there are certain things we still need and want a LOT, and we both know that it is impossible for us to deliver those things to each other. That doesn't make either one of us bad, less-than or wrong. It just means that through polyamory, we can at least try to get some of those unmet needs met. But there are certain things that we know may go unmet forever. And that sucks. A LOT! And not in a good way!
What do you do when you know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that your partner, whom you love dearly, cannot and will never be capable of giving you certain things? How do you console yourself when you realize that no matter what they do, they will never be someone else that you also love? How do you deal with a raw pain like that? Is it even possible to heal that pain when you can't stop needing someone and/or something that is a statistical improbability or impossibility? How do you become "ok" with unrequited love from decades past? How do you keep saying "no" to the artificial comfort that junk food temporarily offers when you feel like that is the ONLY consolation that you will ever get? How do you keep loving someone, stay with them voluntarily, adore them deeply, and still admit to yourself that you aren't getting everything that you need? WITHOUT resorting to food as your consolation prize??? I mean really, is it the junk food that's causing the cancer, or is it the junk food alongside the suppressed shit that never gets dealt with? And what the FUCK is the point of trying to extend your life, if what you are extending is the time that you keep going unfulfilled?
I ended up swallowing a few bites of pineapple, a few olive pieces and all of the artichoke hearts. The crust ended up back on the serving platter, and the cheese got chewed like more gum, and was a big ball of goop by the end, all balled up in a napkin. It was the size of a SOFTBALL! I never realized how MUCH cheese I had eaten each time I ate a half a pizza in the past. That was another big realization for me. I also noticed that when I ate consciously, trying hard to keep my issues at the forefront of my mind, making sure to delve into them WHILE chewing, tasting and swallowing, that I enjoyed the pizza quite a bit more. Not just because I was paying attention to its textures, flavors, temperatures, colors, etc., but because I was paying attention to ME more! I was able to use the pizza experience to get to know myself better and hopefully take the first steps to healing some deep sexual hurts that I have. I didn't use the pizza to quash my cravings and feelings, I used it to bring them up, in living color, to myself, and keep them where I could see and observe them. That put a whole new spin on it for me! Pizza Fasting Therapy! LOL But seriously. It really felt like an important, integral step for me on this detoxification journey. It's never been about being perfect on the fast. It's never even been about announcing that I am fasting, for the sake of saying that I'm doing it. It's been, from Day One, about getting to know myself and my triggers better, so that I can make more informed, healthier choices for myself. And I really think that I learned a lot at the dinner table tonight.
When we were done and had a mountain of chewed toppings and naked crust triangles sitting on the pizza serving tray, our waiter came and asked us if we wanted any dessert. My mind immediately thought, "OMG! I have more of that pine/orange/banana juice at home! I want THAT for dessert!!! Just a few cooked veggies in my belly, and I was DYING for juice again! So we went home, and I drank a big glass.
I haven't figured out what to do about pizza and my sex life. I'm not sure how to stop doing one thing and keep doing the other. I feel like the training wheels are about to come off about sex and how I am inside of it. And especially when it comes to 69, I mean, that is mouth and genitals both ... sort of like the pizza thing. Genitals, then mouth. It's just not at the same time, ya know?
I don't know how to end this. This post, or the crazy cycles I feel like I go through with food. I don't have some catchy phrase to sum it all up. I can usually do that at the end of a post. But I feel sort of empty. Like I don't know what the end of this is, if there ever will be an end ... to the post or to the issues. All I know is that I want to keep going. I want to keep juicing. I want to keep healing. And I want to be free. I wonder if that's even possible. Maybe one day I'll find out.
But something was nagging at me, and I wasn't really fully aware of it at the beginning of the day. Yesterday, I realized that a lot of the tension in my low back and hip have been sex-related. Like sexual issues that have not been resolved. Jason has been having erections more like he did in high school, just random ones showing up (hey, that's a sign of a healthier heart!) and they are waking him up in the night. They are quite ... ummmm ... well ... what's the PG term? Stalwart? Insistent? I've been enjoying these surprises IMMENSELY! But stuff has been coming up for me whenever we've had sex in the last few days. Lots of tears, lots of guilt, feeling like he's a better lover than me, like I'm not doing enough to please him, like I'm a failure in bed because there are certain things that my body simply will not do because of the excess weight that is still on me. I mean it was coming up hardcore!! I actually told him that I feel sometimes like my vagina is his consolation prize when my hands or mouth can't "deliver the goods", even when I want to and try. He has done everything he can to reassure me that he loves being with me, that the love we make is wonderful and extremely enjoyable for him, and how great he feels whenever we have sex.
But some part of me is really struggling with how to believe him. I have no reason that I can pinpoint for why I would not believe him, or any specific instance in my past that I can think I might be comparing things to ... it's just sort of ... THERE! Just this disbelief, this issue of trusting what he's saying when it comes to sex. I have no trouble believing him when he says other things.
So we had sex today and I couldn't truly enjoy myself. I mean, I came like 4 times, because Jason is a freakin' AMAZING lover, but I wasn't fully there for it. I have felt like I'm "less than" because I have never been able to bring him to orgasm when we do a 69, and that thing was what we did today. As well, I've never been able to bring any guy to orgasm doing this, so I feel like there's something wrong with me. I started bawling like a freakin' baby because my issues of inadequacy came up again, and again he reassured me that with time, as we lose the weight, we will be able to do more things. He also talked about his own fears and feelings, since guys are "supposed to hold it back", which I truly have NEVER understood!! I mean, I'm not supposed to hold back my orgasm for some purpose, why should he? I've never believed that there is such a thing as "premature ejaculation". I don't care if he comes in 10 seconds (any guy, not Jason specifically), 10 minutes or an hour. Whenever he wants to come, I say go for it! But he's got his tapes playing about what a guy is supposed to do to please a woman, just like I've got my tapes playing about what a woman is supposed to do to please a man. So our issues sometimes get in the way of us truly enjoying each other.
I was feeling like emotional detox was baring down on me hard, right in the middle of sex. But isn't that part of what a fast is for? To engage in emotional detox, too? Why yes, I believe it is! And the darned detoxing never comes up at a convenient time, does it?
So when we were done, all I wanted to do was eat pizza. Don't get the sex I want because of my own feelings of inadequacy? Why YES! A pizza would drown that feeling QUITE nicely! I mentioned this to Jason, and he said, "Well, do you need to explore this and eat some pizza?" I immediately went into all the reasons why I shouldn't, how I didn't want people to think ill of me for "fucking up", how I wanted to go the full 90 days, and that I was realizing that I was really missing HIM! I was missing the times we spent going on dates, hanging out, getting a bite to eat, laughing together in a restaurant, holding hands across the table, just being close with one another and sharing our time and lives together. And I didn't know how to feel close to him on a date without rich food!! THAT hit me like a ton o' bricks.
"Look let's just drive toward our favorite place, and you can decide when we get there", he suggested. I was so confused and knew that I didn't want to put anything toxic or addictive into my system, but I was SICK of juice, of juicing, of missing out on fun Saturday nights, and of missing chewing. So I got in the car with him and we started driving. "You're not an angel", he said. "Well, you're an angel to me, but I mean, you're not supposed to be perfect. People eat on fasts and then go back on the fast. I'm not telling you to eat, but what is it you need right now? To look perfect to your readers, or to deal with your emotional stuff? People will see that you are human if you eat on Day 40. It doesn't mean that you can't keep going. It doesn't mean that you have to swallow the pizza. It doesn't mean that you are a fraud or a liar or a failure. It just means that you are a human who is battling the same demons as lots of other people are. I love you and support you whatever you decide."
We arrived at the pizza place, and I sat in the car with him for a few minutes, unsure of what I truly wanted to do. I started getting upset, and felt paralyzed with anxiety and indecision. We talked more, and he reassured me that we could even order it, and I could totally ask him to box it up and we could leave, never eating a bite of it, that it was my choice, and that he wouldn't judge me either way. And suddenly, I felt this overwhelming urge to just be free of all of it. Free of the decision. Free of the attempts at great health. Free of the guilt. Free of the GMO's, the cheese, the temptations. Free of food. Free of juice. Free of thinking anymore. Free of the fucking ISSUES!
I decided to tackle the demon instead of running away from it. I decided to look it square in the face and DEAL with it!!!
We went in, and we ordered a large pizza. Jason also ordered a Greek Salad, which I had a few bites of. His half of the pizza had double onions, double cheese and sausage. My half had double cheese, artichoke hearts, black olives and pineapple. And I know, that is not vegan. Baby cows were stolen from their mothers to make that cheese. And truth be told, as the pizza arrived, I was thinking to myself, "How do I break this addiction to casein? How do I stop eating stolen milk?" And that made me feel like shit. It always does. So I feel guilty about a thing, then eat it, then have to go numb to keep eating it, then have all kinds of remorse after the numbness wears off, GAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! Jeebus! I'm tired of the fucking GUILT! Why are we put on this shit in the first place??? SERIOUSLY! WHY??? Why are we told that milk designed to grow a 600-800 lb. animal does OUR bodies any good at all??? It's got chalk and fake vitamins, and unabsorbable calcium and pus and blood and antibiotics and all kinds of other shit in it ... but yet we still want more! No amount of guilt was stopping me from ordering pizza. No amount of fear of what you would think of me was stopping me. No truths about GMO's or anything else was getting to the core of my issue. What the fuck was wrong?
We talked more about what we had been experiencing in bed while we waited for the meal. The pizza arrived, and I thought about my new epiphany from a few days back about how if I wanted to binge, why not just eat the bite I really wanted first, and then it would all be something of a disappointment after that. Maybe I wouldn't eat as much that way. So I looked at the pizza, and Jason helped point out the lovely chunks of artichoke hearts that he knows I love so much. We both decided on the same 2 "best" pieces of my half, and we put them on my plate. I can't eat the bread (gluten intolerance) so I pulled the cheese back and put a little bit in my mouth. I started to chew, and made sure that I chewed slowly. VERY slowly. Deliberately. I paid attention to how my salivation had increased dramatically due to all the juicing. I noticed what the cheese felt like in my teeth, on my tongue, on the roof of my mouth. I noticed the saltiness, and how quickly I used to chew and swallow ... without chewing well at all. I asked myself why pizza was dulling my feelings of inadequacy in the bedroom, and if it even really was, or if it was hot, greasy, chewy entertainment that distracted me from how I felt about my own sexual abilities or perceived inabilities. How were these connected? Why did I want to go out for pizza with Jason after being disappointed with myself over sex?
I didn't come up with an answer at first. What I did realize was that the cheese felt like bubblegum in my mouth. I mean, I must have chewed it like 50 times, and it just wouldn't disintegrate, so I spat it out and put the gum-cheese on my plate. Then I took an artichoke heart and put it into my mouth. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, this warm, soothing feeling came over me. As the thing melted in my mouth, I realized that I was getting a kind of foreplay from chewing this artichoke. I felt a similar feeling wash over me as I do when someone that I am attracted to caresses my skin. Goosebumps popped up all over my forearms, shoulders and neck, and I felt my eyes start to roll back in my head. And then it hit me, like a freakin' lightening bolt!
I wanted pizza to make me feel good about sex when I don't feel good about the sex I'm delivering. Pizza has been my consolation prize when I think I suck! I realized that it's what I get when I can't get what I want and need, or what I look for when I feel inadequate. It gives me pleasurable feelings, "fills me up", satisfies oral fixations, leaves me feeling all warm and fuzzy when I taste it. My god, pizza IS a kind of sexual act for me, and I was having this pizza WITH JASON! It's like an extension of our sex for me!
Typically, I would tell you everything, if it were up to me. But I can't go into the deeply personal details about what Jason and I want in our sex lives that we are not getting, because I need to protect some people here whose permission I don't have to discuss their personal details. Both Jason and I know that because of love that we feel with other people that we met before we knew each other, and because of specific things that have occurred in our lives, that there are certain needs we cannot meet for each other. We have both been let down a lot. (Haven't we all?) We both want and need very specific things that the other simply is not capable of delivering. And we've even had very candid conversations wherein we have discovered that, because of circumstances beyond our control, we have sort of, on a certain level, "settled for" each other. I mean, that is an oversimplification, and it isn't entirely accurate (it's not like we just tolerate each other). We truly ARE delighted with each other, we laugh a LOT together, we are genuinely insanely crazy for each other, we adore kissing and having sex with each other, and the list of pro's goes on and on ... it's just that we acknowledge that there are certain things we still need and want a LOT, and we both know that it is impossible for us to deliver those things to each other. That doesn't make either one of us bad, less-than or wrong. It just means that through polyamory, we can at least try to get some of those unmet needs met. But there are certain things that we know may go unmet forever. And that sucks. A LOT! And not in a good way!
What do you do when you know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that your partner, whom you love dearly, cannot and will never be capable of giving you certain things? How do you console yourself when you realize that no matter what they do, they will never be someone else that you also love? How do you deal with a raw pain like that? Is it even possible to heal that pain when you can't stop needing someone and/or something that is a statistical improbability or impossibility? How do you become "ok" with unrequited love from decades past? How do you keep saying "no" to the artificial comfort that junk food temporarily offers when you feel like that is the ONLY consolation that you will ever get? How do you keep loving someone, stay with them voluntarily, adore them deeply, and still admit to yourself that you aren't getting everything that you need? WITHOUT resorting to food as your consolation prize??? I mean really, is it the junk food that's causing the cancer, or is it the junk food alongside the suppressed shit that never gets dealt with? And what the FUCK is the point of trying to extend your life, if what you are extending is the time that you keep going unfulfilled?
I ended up swallowing a few bites of pineapple, a few olive pieces and all of the artichoke hearts. The crust ended up back on the serving platter, and the cheese got chewed like more gum, and was a big ball of goop by the end, all balled up in a napkin. It was the size of a SOFTBALL! I never realized how MUCH cheese I had eaten each time I ate a half a pizza in the past. That was another big realization for me. I also noticed that when I ate consciously, trying hard to keep my issues at the forefront of my mind, making sure to delve into them WHILE chewing, tasting and swallowing, that I enjoyed the pizza quite a bit more. Not just because I was paying attention to its textures, flavors, temperatures, colors, etc., but because I was paying attention to ME more! I was able to use the pizza experience to get to know myself better and hopefully take the first steps to healing some deep sexual hurts that I have. I didn't use the pizza to quash my cravings and feelings, I used it to bring them up, in living color, to myself, and keep them where I could see and observe them. That put a whole new spin on it for me! Pizza Fasting Therapy! LOL But seriously. It really felt like an important, integral step for me on this detoxification journey. It's never been about being perfect on the fast. It's never even been about announcing that I am fasting, for the sake of saying that I'm doing it. It's been, from Day One, about getting to know myself and my triggers better, so that I can make more informed, healthier choices for myself. And I really think that I learned a lot at the dinner table tonight.
When we were done and had a mountain of chewed toppings and naked crust triangles sitting on the pizza serving tray, our waiter came and asked us if we wanted any dessert. My mind immediately thought, "OMG! I have more of that pine/orange/banana juice at home! I want THAT for dessert!!! Just a few cooked veggies in my belly, and I was DYING for juice again! So we went home, and I drank a big glass.
I haven't figured out what to do about pizza and my sex life. I'm not sure how to stop doing one thing and keep doing the other. I feel like the training wheels are about to come off about sex and how I am inside of it. And especially when it comes to 69, I mean, that is mouth and genitals both ... sort of like the pizza thing. Genitals, then mouth. It's just not at the same time, ya know?
I don't know how to end this. This post, or the crazy cycles I feel like I go through with food. I don't have some catchy phrase to sum it all up. I can usually do that at the end of a post. But I feel sort of empty. Like I don't know what the end of this is, if there ever will be an end ... to the post or to the issues. All I know is that I want to keep going. I want to keep juicing. I want to keep healing. And I want to be free. I wonder if that's even possible. Maybe one day I'll find out.
