November 20, 2009

A friend was visiting me a few weeks ago and we got into this hilarious conversation about how her favorite vibrator ran out of batteries in the middle of a… er… self-pleasuring session.

We just about died laughing, and I was like, “Girl, how much were you using that thing for the batteries to actually die?”.  I’ll leave her answer to your imagination.  My response was something along the lines of how I’d never had one run out of batteries.

I jinxed myself.

The very next time I turned my favorite flower vibrator, guess what happened?  Yup, the damn thing done ran outta’ batteries on me!  I couldn’t believe my luck.

And so last night, guess what I did amidst all the drinking?  I developed an even looser tongue than usual and told this whole story to a cute, tall, geeky Asian friend of mine.  I have a soft spot in my heart for geeky Asians, if you didn’t know.  They’re usually just a bit more innocent but dying to be polluted, and I love doing the honors.  He couldn’t stop laughing, gave me a high-five, and said, “Dude, you rock”.

And of course, I had to tell the internet that my vibrator batteries crapped out in the middle of a masturbatory session.  Yes, world, I admit to masturbation.  Are you ballsy enough to ‘fess up?  Everyone does it.  And if you never have, there is SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

Funny enough, it’s not something I have EVER been comfortable with.  I started doing it as part of my physical therapy to help break down the scar tissue in my hoo-haw… the painful, thick scar from the severe tear and bad stitches I received during my first natural childbirth. Sure, I admit I played with myself to get that special feeling before the therapist’s orders (*blush*), but it was infrequent enough that I couldn’t tell you from one time to the next how long it’d been. But being told it was a necessary part of healing to help with my prolapse made it seem somehow less sinful and shameful, even when I kinda’ crossed the line, lost control, and couldn’t help but to orgasm during one of those self-therapeutic moments.  I mean, if you’ve ever used a vibrator, you KNOW how damn good those things feel.  It’s nearly impossible to hold back The Big O.

I’m trying to learn to love myself, and this is no easy task.  Even though I was taught that masturbation is selfish, disgusting, and sinful by the Catholic Church and part of me still believes that, I have a feeling that God would prefer I enjoy and love my body than feel disgusted by what He/She gave me.  Even sexually.  Something seems wrong with a teaching that goes against what feels completely natural.  And dealing with a past of sexual abuse is really forcing me to face that.

I find it ironic that being open about this makes it seem so much more acceptable.  Like, by admitting it, it’s no longer this taboo sin that I have to keep hidden in the cobwebs of my mind.

Besides, there’s nothing quite like receiving a high-five from a cute, geeky male friend because you just confessed in a very comfortable manner that you’ve masturbated so much that your damn vibrator batteries actually died.  Yes, world, I did it.  And I laugh as I write this because it somehow feel liberating to confess it to such a large audience.

Please, feel free to share your experiences with me, even if it’s in a private email.  You’re not going to get any judgement from me, and I promise it’s kind of a relief to admit it.

Current Mood: Cool

Drinking on an empty stomach until you can’t walk and barfing into a Halloween basket in your friend’s car really isn’t the best way to deal with your issues.

I named the puke bucket “Ghosty”.  And the car door “Fred”.  I figured we should be on a first-name basis since I was going to be using them to hold me up and house the bottle of water, rum, and wine I’d been drinking all night.

At least I had enough wits about me to apologize profusely for being a drunken moron and I didn’t get puke on the car’s leather seats.

I need to get a fucking grip. And find a new therapist. This is NOT a healthy way to deal with things.

Current Mood: Alarmed