Tag Archives: mania

Hypersexuality

This started out as a comment I made on the BP Hope website for an article about Hypersexuality. I liked what I’d written so much I thought I’d expand it and turn it into a post for Naked Nerves. It’s the kind of exploration I want to present in these pages. It’s an honest discussion of certain aspects of sexuality, so be prepared for some frank language about sex, tho nothing too outrageous given our current cultural standards.

First I think we need a bit of an introduction to the subject here. Not many people realize what hypersexuality is, so we’ll start there. Simply put, it’s a strongly heightened desire for sex, all kinds of sex, without concern for the consequences. It’s an overwhelming drive, thirst and urge for sexual experience, and it’s almost impossible to resist it. It’s a significant part of having Bipolar Disorder, which is why the discussion in BP Hope was written. People in general don’t talk about it much, and even folks with BP don’t often do it with our Psychiatrists and therapists, but we do amongst oursleves. People who have BP are usually willing, tho maybe uncomfortable, to be open and honest about it, but it seems to embarass the professionals, as most talk of sex does in our puritanical culture. It can be great fun to feel so incredibly sexual, but more often it can ruin lives and cause scandals and infidelities, failed marriages and relationships, and broken hearts all around, to say the least.

Hypersexuality can be at the heart of it all. People may screw around too much and with people they shouldn’t be with. Office/work romances, casual hook-ups with strangers, sex with people they previously thought of only as friends – which may destroy the friendship – every sort of sexual expression people can have with each other can be affected. It’s an almost impossible urge to ignore, it’s very persistent and it can totally overwhelm your good judgement with its intensity. You just Have to go have sex! Lots of it! All the time! Consequences don’t count. It doesn’t matter at the moment if it’s risky or may hurt someone else – that’s the farthest thing from your mind. All that counts is the urge to fuck, and to fuck a lot.

I’m not trying to write a treatise here, but more of a story about my own expriences with it. I suspect many of you with Bipolar will recognize yourselves in my stories. I hope you do, and that there are some useful insights to gain from what I have to say, whether you’re Bipolar or not. It affects other people too of course, not just folks with BP. Sometimes people call it sex addiction, but that’s not quite the same. It’s more of a sexual compulsion. It’s most common in people with BP while in a manic state, but it doesn’t have to be full blown mania. It can just be a very strong “push” you feel to be sexual at any time, and I do mean any time. Here’s what that’s been like for me:

I’m a 67 year old gay man and I’ve been hypersexual for as long as I can remember, even back in my childhood. I first started playing with myself sexually around age 4 or 5, maybe younger. I recall being on the couch with my mom around then and stroking myself and her getting upset, saying it was wrong and dirty. Great first lesson in sex, eh? But I kept it up, sometimes doing it so much I caused my dick to bleed. I was obsessed. I had my first orgasm in the shower at age 8. I had no idea what had happened but it felt so incredibly good. I told my friends at school about it and said it felt like going to the bathroom all over! They thought I was weird. Little did they know!!

I had my first real sex with a cousin my age at 11, with our parents in the living room and us in the bedroom. Even then I recognized the thrill and the danger of getting caught, but I didn’t care because it felt so good. We sucked each other and I came in his mouth – he didn’t and was very confused. But I reveled in the sensations. Wow!!! I guess I was mean, only into my own satisfaction, not that that excuses it. But I was just a horny kid and I wanted it so much I just didn’t care. As time went on I became involved in a compulsive sexual “relationship” with a boy my age for about 8 or 9 years thru my teens. I got all the sex I wanted, and I wanted a lot. We did it all the time. Then I read in the encyclopedia that sodomy and fellatio were “bad” and that scared me, but it didn’t stop me, so it was always a closely guarded, guilty secret. I finally lost my heterosexual virginity to a woman at age 19 and thru my 20’s was serially monogamous with several women. I had lots of sex, sometimes with men too, and I masturbated a lot as well. I was always horny. I’d have sex with anyone who’d want me, male or female.

That got more extreme when I came out at 29 and into the gay scene in the late 70’s/early 80’s. I had lots of sex, both with boyfriends and cruising in the parks and bathrooms – highly risky, but who cared? Not me. Sex parties, groups, orgies, running naked thru the parks – I loved it all, and eventually figured out I’d had anonymous sex with hundreds of other guys over the years. I just thought it was a part of gay life and since everyone else was doing it too it didn’t seem abnormal. It was just a part of our lives – it was no big deal. Of course at first this was in the early days of AIDS, so I didn’t let anyone fuck me without a condom after 1984, until I met my life-partner. Tho very hypersexual, I was aware enough to be safe. Not everyone is so smart, or lucky. Even now at this “advanced” age I’m still horny all the time, sometimes even more so when depressed, and watching porn and masturbating and fucking as much as I can. I’m also a Scorpio, the sign that governs the genitals, and some would say that has a lot to do with how I am, but who knows for sure? I just know who and what I am now, and I believe being Bipolar has always been the most of it, even when I was a kid, given other behaviors I exhibited back then.

I’d always been depressed a lot in my life but I really “lived” in hypomania, with a few real manic experiences as well, but I didn’t know what it all meant. I was terrified of Psychiatry and I certainly didn’t know I was Bipolar. Even when I tried suicide at age 29 they said it was “just” depression. A familiar story for many of us, I know. Then at age 44 I crashed and burned really bad and was finally diagnosed with BPII, rapid cycling, mixed states. Later that was changed to BipolarI and PTSD, where it stands now. I had a few hospitalizations along the way, and after the last one I was so hyped up and so sexual I felt like it radiated it out my eyes. Walking down the street I was cruising everyone I met, and they cruised me back. I was so high on sex it almost hurt. That night I called a friend and asked him to come fuck me silly. He did. I couldn’t help myself. Not what the doctors had in mind when they released me I’m sure!

When I first explored Bipolar and read about hypersexuality I thought “this is me!” It fit me so well. I was so turned on so much of the time and masturbated so frequently, often many times a day if I could. I went for 20 years without a partner but I still “cruised” for sex a lot, even tho it was way risky, but I never got caught. I felt so invincible you see – grandiosity to the max! I felt “pushed” to spend hours seeking sexual encounters – always have felt that push, still do. Hypo/Mania anyone?? But I began to wonder if it was really OK to do it so much. I worried about myself and wondered if I’d ever find a real partner who was like I was. I wasn’t very stable at all with the BP during those 20 some years and tried tons of meds to try to get OK. It was a long, hard slog and most of the meds made me sick or crazy, and they didn’t work. Then things changed.

When I was 57 I met a man who was also my age who I fell deeply in love with. We met online on Gay.com and gradully got to know one another thru emails. Then when we finally met we were naked and in bed together in 5 minutes, I kid you not! I’d finally found my mate!! Nowadays we have sex a lot, and occasionally invite a third guy in to share our magic with us. We’re both highly sexed, but he’s not BP at all. Very stable in fact, and I wouldn’t call him hypersexual. He’s just into sex a lot, but appropriately, unlike some of my experiences. And for the last year I’ve finally found a good mix of meds and I’m pretty stable with my Bipolar Disorder too, mostly, with an episode here and there, now and then. And I’m still hypersexual.

I still jerk off a lot, as does he, and it doesn’t interfere with our sex lives at all. I like to watch porn sometimes too – it’s fun and it gets me off. I still have manic rushes of hypersexuality, much of the time in fact. I’m so used to it I mostly just revel in it, but sometimes my cock takes over my mind and I get way too sexual, obsessing about it all the time. I get caught up far too much in the search for more sex, even tho my partner and I have a great sex life. But the yearning is just a difficult thing for me sometimes, not a danger to myself or anyone else, like it has been in the past. I’m still HIV negative, and I intend to stay that way. We play safe.

I’m know I’m one of the lucky ones – I never really ruined my life with my sexual escapades, though I know I’ve hurt people, which I deeply regret. Mostly it’s been a fun journey which I’d never want to change. I’m more careful now, and have been for many years, since I was diagnosed and began the search to understand my condition. I still cycle thru depression and mania, and I often struggle with hypersexuality, but I’m pretty much OK with it all. That’s good enough for me…

I realize I’ve never really told this whole story to anyone. It feels good to talk about it so openly. Hope I didn’t freak anyone out too much. And remember – this is about my experiences – your mileage may vary… Thanks for reading.

Too Sexy Steve

Bipolar,Unemployed & Lost

what a blog.

what a cool tool for myself and people out there to read and relate. I still get emails asking me to help spread the word and bring people to resources and help and hope.

ugh.

where did the time go?

I don’t want to let anyone down but would I be right to say I don’t have the time to continue this blog? Would I be wrong to say I can’t?

 


Feeding The Fire: New Year, Same Issues

Ready. Set. Sail! There’s this weird unsteadiness I get whenever I think about my blog. It feels almost unnecessary but at the same time crucial to the bipolar community. I write mostly about a symptom hardly anyone on the planet has. Heck, some days, I don’t even believe it. Maybe I’m just weak. Maybe it’s … More Feeding The Fire: New Year, Same Issues

2017 Year-End Wrap-Up

2017 stats, most viewed, and favorites.…

The Remains of the Day

My son and I finally cleaned out Will’s closet and dresser drawers today.

It took me almost 16 months to be ready for this day, but it was definitely time. I’ve been looking at his things and steeling myself for the inevitable. I knew it was going to be hard. As we went through the clothes, I remembered how he looked in each shirt, each tie, each pair of pants. It was so sad…and so necessary.

It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. Ethan is a git-r’-done kind of guy, and he swiftly emptied the closet as I went through the drawers. We were finished in less than an hour. What broke my heart was using trash bags to hold everything…it just seemed so undignified, even disrespectful. If it had been possible I would have put it all into gold-plated boxes to take to Goodwill. I just hope those items will be of use to other men who need nice things.

I did save a few of his shirts. They have a lot of sentimental value and they still smell like him. There was a yellow-and-blue striped polo shirt he wore a lot in the summer, and one rather ratty winter sweatshirt that bears the name of the community college where I got my nursing degree. He virtually lived in that for much of the winter. I’m also hanging onto a grey T-shirt with the Carnival Cruise Line’s logo on it, a gift from Ethan and Clark on the one trip we all took together.

Now I have room in the closet and the dresser for more of my own things, something I naturally have mixed feelings about. I’ve acquired a pretty large wardrobe in the past year due to weight loss and anticipation of the coming vacation. Clark says I still don’t have enough. But my closet is crammed full and my drawers are stuffed to capacity, so the extra room is welcome. However, I’d give up the entire space and donate all my clothes to charity if I could just have Will back. In fact, I’d give up everything to have him back.

Except my life. In spite of missing my mate, I’m generally enjoying it and feel content with my current situation. It’s drippy and dreary here, which usually throws me into depression, but this year I seem to be skipping the fall festivities. I haven’t even needed my HappyLight yet. Yesterday, I forgot my Breakfast of Champions and was bouncing off the walls by late afternoon, so I guess I can’t afford to miss those meds any more than I can afford to miss the nighttime ones, even though that little taste of mania sure felt good. And once again, I am amazed at how well these substances control my bipolar illness, and how thin the line is between sanity and disaster.

Anyway, I’m glad the grim business of giving away Will’s clothing and shoes is done. One more step in the process of moving forward. I hate it. But it has to happen; as fondly as I remember the past, I can’t live there.

And so it goes.


I Think I’m Doing OK Now…

But I’m not totally convinced.  I seem to be on a much more level plane then I’ve been on for the last 20 some years, if not my whole life, I’m not sure.  My past before being diagnosed with Bipolar 23 years ago last week was so different.  (see “I Was A Different Person Then”).  I won’t go into all that because I did so already.  But things are different now, again, in a new way.  Earlier this year I was put on Lamictal  (Lamotrigine), a mood stabilizer, in addition to Abilify (Aripiprazole), Wellbutrin (Bupropion), Buspar  (Buspirone) and Klonopin (Clonazapam).  For the first time ever, a medication has actually changed my life.  I still spend some time in depression, but it’s mostly not that bad and I can usually overcome it with CBT  and smart thinking and action.  And I’m not too high either, tho I did try to get off 13 years of Abilify a few months ago (it makes me shake terribly and I hate it) and I had a really bad reaction, so bad I thought I was going to lose it completely.  It was the closest to real mania I’ve come in years.  So I went back on the drug and I’ve been OK since then.  (I had my Psychiatrist’s permission and support to quit, BTW).

I remember telling my counselor at the time that I was struggling with this new reality, because I didn’t know who I was anymore if I wasn’t depressed all the time.  I still feel that way, and it’s actually pushed me back into depression several times since then.  Weird.  You’d think I’d be totally at peace with this and be happy for myself.  But it’s not that easy to change a lifetime of such inbred patterns of thinking and behaving.  I Was depression in the past and it was my total life.  It was hard on me, and on the people I loved around me.  I could stop it occasionally, but not totally, and I suffered with it a lot.  It was my daily reality and it informed all my decisions and actions way too much.  I was scared all the time and afraid of being caught out as a loser.  Too much fear is paralyzing and I was often paralyzed.  I still am to some extent but not nearly so much.  I am better now.

I’m gradually learning to accept and revel in the “new” me.  I just had a counseling session with my new counselor and he asked me to do a narrative of my life – positive and negative.  I found myself listing tons of positive things about my life, but not that many negative ones.   A total surprise to me.  In the past it would have been much more tilted the other way towards extreme negativity.  When I’m depressed it’s all I can see, and it’s the same way with being OK I guess.  I Am my emotions way too much and if I’m doing well I think l’ve always done well, despite the memories of the failures and awfulness of depression. When I’m depressed it’s the opposite and it’s all I can see and feel.

Staying balanced is a real struggle for me even now.  But I can do it most of the time.  I’m amazed, but still frightened by the new me.  I still don’t know how to interact or be with people very well.  I still fall back into the old patterns of depression if I don’t keep up my guard all the time.  But I have real support in my partner Louie, and with my friends, my counselor and psychiatrist and other health care folks.  So I think maybe I can do this.  I sure do hope so, tho hope can be a trap too if you’re not careful.  Just ask a student of Buddhism.  Today is my 67th birthday and perhaps it’s the start of a new reality for me.  A truly new year of life.  I think it could be and I’m trying to believe so much that I can pull it off.  I have a lot of faith in myself these days, and it’s not based in my usual hypomania, but in reality for a change.  Plus I’m older and wiser now.  I understand myself, and life in general, much better.  Staying real and giving it time are my current mantras.  Maybe I really am doing OK now…  Time will tell.

peace,  Steve


Filed under: Aging, Bipolar, Community, Depression, Emotions, Faith, Hypo-Mania, Invisible Illness, Mania, Medications, Mental Health, Peace, Relationships Tagged: Aging, Bipolar, Change, Invisible Illness, Manic Depression, Medications, mental-health, recurrent depression

From depression to brief relief

I’m having a brief evening’s break from depression it seems and it’s such a relief. There are signs it’s coming, before I realise it’s here:

I’ll have a drink – not much left of that bottle of white wine. Small glasses, straight or tall glass of kir.

I’ll listen to familiar ‘up mood’ music: invariably this will consist of Underworld, Mew, maybe some Psychedelic Furs. But always Underworld. ‘Two Months Off’ especially

Such a relief; just to lift that mood that’s persecuted me for weeks, months. Try to forget that this break will more than likely last no longer than an evening. I’ll wake tomorrow filled with anxiety, low mood, suicidal ideation and OCD-driven thoughts and ideas I wouldn’t wish on my enemies.

An evening off.

The music in my head and in my body. Moving. Feeling. Being.

An idea that everything might be alright; not forever. Hell, not even for a day. But for now, it might be good. Shift those thoughts, overcome those blades and car crashes, live for another day.

Such a relief, so impermanent. A relaxing of muscles, a loosening of nerves. Just being someone, something, other than who I am. That can wait.

Breathe in, breathe out. Sleep, because tomorrow’s going to be the usual bastard of a day.

 

 


Dare to Dream with Me

You politely asked to step into my dream
Even took your shoes off
As a sign of respect
This is my domain
This is my subconscious
Enter at your own risk
The pendulum is often swinging
Of its own accord
Gingerly find your place
Within my fierce space
Sometimes I see the messiah
Sometimes I am him
Other times
I am my own monster
Raging within
If you can dance in darkness
And in light
I welcome you to my dreamscape


Review: Birth of a New Brain #PostPartumBipolar

Dyane Harwood thrilled me when she sent me an advance copy of her memoir, Birth of a New Brain: Healing from Postpartum Bipolar Disorder. (I pre-ordered it and was anxiously awaiting it’s October 2017 release.) Her memoir fills a much-needed…

Guest Post: Some Words From My Husband

Hey. Man. Have things taken a turn for the worse. God I really lost my motivation. And one of my closest friends is in the hospital for trying to OD on his bipolar meds plus some other stuff. I’ve been an emotional wreck. I can’t even write. I don’t know what’s wrong. And the negative … More Guest Post: Some Words From My Husband