Are your initials really SOB? Hmm. So, about this dancing thing. C'mon. Let the woman dance the way she likes. And you dance the way you like. Holding hands when you dance one way and she dances another just won't work, except for momentary contact. My H and I have the same problem. I have a lifetime of dance behind me. i taught it for 25 years. He can't seem to find the beat. But he understands that when the music plays I want to be out there dancing. So he does it, his way. And I don't try to make him dance my way. this is a power struggle that we had to let go of to get along. And by the way, no one is watching you.
As for the sex, well, you have a good excuse. Sick is sick. You went out, you danced, I think you did a lot for a sick guy. i hope you get a raincheck on the teddy.
I just like Winnie the Pooh. I didn't know about the acronym mania on these forums until I'd registered, but the SOB thing really doesn't bother me. I know what people mean when they shorten it, no big deal.
I don't want her to dance my way--no one should dance my way except trained bears--but I wish I were better at it. I wish she could teach me to dance as easily as she does it, but she can't really teach what she does. I think she's past the point where she thinks about it at all; she's just doing it.
That's a minor thing. She took ballroom lessons with me, and those made slightly more sense to me because there was some sort of ordered plan to it. I'm normally the one who wants to improvise and she's the meticulous planner, but not when it comes to dancing.
I don't really feel like I need an excuse to turn down sex. I'm the one who wants to have it, and for all the progress we've made, I don't think she often really wants to do anything sexual for her own pleasure until after foreplay starts. I do think it comes easier to her than it used to, but I also think she more often thinks of it as something she will do for me. Honestly, it would have felt nice this morning to hear that she felt some disappointment that we didn't make love last night, but I believe her when she says she didn't. On the other hand, I feel good about making the right decision and not letting myself feel or act desperate.
OK, that was the post the squeamish could read. If you'd rather not read the part that's not for the squeamish, skip this one.
So, this morning I woke up still feeling about half-dead, and we had our conversation about the night before. She told me she had realized how sick I really was when I crawled into bed and there was no sex. She was right; that was the only thing that would have stopped me. But I began to feel better, and the kids were still with my parents, so my mind began to wander again. We had a nice breakfast together, snuggled and watched some of a movie, and then she toddled off to the shower.
I'd actually been planning to get in there first and take a hot shower to clear my head, so I joined her. She was a little surprised, but happy, and we had a good time together. The only trouble was a moment when there was friction that hurt my penis a little, but I'm used to that; the glans is very sensitive. (If that's too much information, remember that I warned you and skip the rest. That's what we in the business call "foreshadowing.")
We retired upstairs to our bedroom, and she pulled me down on the bed. We spent some more time doing more teasing and playing than anything else, but there were beginning to be connections of the pregnancy-inducing kind, so I got up and got out a condom from the box I've been using for awhile. This is where things went rodeo.
I put that condom on and unrolled it about an inch, then yanked it off with what I can only hope was a manly grunt indicating the stoic bearing of pain. It was hard to tell exactly what sound I was making because I was distracted by the fire enveloping my penis. All thoughts of sex driven from my mind, I inspected the offending organ and found patches of red skin on the head, with a small red spot on the shaft. In the next few minutes, it would get worse. Sex was over for the day.
As I sit here, it's still hurting. I still have no idea what caused this. It looks like it's been badly chafed, and that's what it feels like--like skin that's been rubbed raw. But there's no way it was like this yesterday or even this morning; I could not have missed this. It seems to me that the pain in the shower could have been the first time I noticed it, but I can't figure out what could have caused it. We didn't do anything we haven't done a hundred times before. My wife did wash it, but she used the same bar of soap I've been using for weeks. The condoms aren't new, either--they've got a spermicide in them, but I've never been allergic to them before. The timing is the only thing that makes me think it might be a reaction to some substance. Just to be sure, I went back to the shower and washed carefully with only cold water (warm water made the pain worse, which again seems to point to some chemical reaction or other, but what?)
The worst part of all of it was again being thwarted in making love to my wife, this time when we were both so ready, and being sure she was thinking about whether I had some infection--an infection I didn't get from her. When I got out of the shower for the second time, she made a joke about me picking up VD while out sleeping around. I can tell when a joke is only half a joke, and I told her the truth: she's the only person who has touched my penis since I was a baby.
The whole thing is embarrassing and frustrating and bizarre and literally painful. I don't have any allergies that I know about, but I just have to wonder whether something reacted with something else or what . . . I just don't see how this could have been caused physically. I have new sympathy for women who hurt during sex but still wish they could have sex with their husbands; it's a particularly irritating irony in what I hope is going to be a very small dose, and I can see how quickly it could drive you crazy.
Yes, it's very weird, and I didn't go to a doctor. I probably should have, but it's such an odd one-time deal that I figured something very odd must have happened. If it recurs, I'll go to the doctor, and I'll check the date on this thread so I can tell him about this first occurrence. But I feel pretty confident that his treatment would have been more or less what I did--wash with very mild soap, coat with ointment, get plenty of air. The most sensitive parts took the longest time to "heal" or whatever happened, but yesterday I was back to normal physically. Unfortunately, my wife is the ill one now, so we're still on hold.
Oh, well. At least feels good to be able to have some patience about this. In the old days, I wasn't just mad at her; I was also deeply frustrated with my own sad neediness and desperation. I feel like a man climbing out of a dark pit. I'm not really out, but it took me a long time to find the ladder and it just feels good to be climbing.
In other get-a-life news, I got to the gun show for the first time in months yesterday, which was a good time. I worked a table with a friend who knows everybody and has a story for every occasion, so we had a good time, and I got out on the cheap--I only spent $2, which may be a new record. Today is more work on the house. I have some to do outside, but it's zero degrees out there, so I don't know how long that will last.
"And I was tempted. I still have that desperate feeling from time to time, like this is the last chance and if I don't take advantage I'll regret it over the coming sexless weeks . . . or months . . . or years . . ."
Wow, I can really relate. I know how you feel, bcs that's me - if he wants to, I do, whether I'm in the mood or not - bcs I'm afraid he won't approach me again for weeks or months.
Good for you for respecting your own needs. Sometimes even an HD person won't be in the mood, and we always (even us HD people) have the right to say no. Sometimes we lose sight of that.
Oh, and I posted that last comment before I'd read the rest of the thread. I hope your "ailment" (whatever it is) is over. PLEASE see a doctor if you have any doubts at all.
Where was I? Mysterious painful malady? Right. That has not returned since, and I'm still not sure what happened. When I began my EMT-B class (another part of my GAL) I learned that latex allergies can be created in people over time with repeated exposure. Since I've been wearing latex gloves as a first responder a few times per week for the past few years, it occurred to me that I could have built up a latex allergy too mild to show up anywhere but the most sensitive skin. It also occurred to me that I might have a borderline allergy that normally wouldn't be symptomatic, but that I had abraded the skin somehow just enough to make the latex more irritating. But I haven't had the same reaction since, and although I switched condom brands, they're still latex. Is a puzzlement.
GAL continues apace. Today I must fix my car, but then back to fixing the house. I'm back on a low-carb diet; I'm having an omelet with chopped beef, onion, mushrooms and my grandma's homemade salsa as I sit here typing this. I'm going out to lunch today, and I'm going to walk across town to get there. It's extremely cold here, but across town is only about a mile or two in my little village and I'm well-adapted for cold environments, much like the majestic polar bear. I've also been writing and volunteering for a couple of primary political campaigns that seem poised to shake up my state. I've become a regular speaker at my local grassroots lobbying group, which is a nice feeling. I'm volunteering with a statewide grassroots group to help bring off a huge demonstration in the state capital in a little over a month, and it's coming together well. It's slightly less hectic this year, since we've done it a few times now, but it grows every year and this year we plan to have thousands again. I've also, as mentioned above, begun my EMT-B training. This is a huge deal for me. I've been what's called a "First Responder" for years, which meant I had the training to do CPR, move patients and drive an ambulance. I did that with the idea of becoming an EMT, but I never did. The best chance to do it came shortly after my wife learned she was pregnant with our youngest, and I put it aside to concentrate on that. You know, it's odd how we talk about motivation and resentment here as if you pick a motivation when you do something, and if your motives aren't pure, you will build resentment. When I chose to forego EMT training, I did it to be there for my family, and at the time it seemed obvious and easy to do. It was only later, as I allowed myself to be guilted out of going back to do the training (it's 110 hours, and yes, it is inconvenient for my wife to have the kids by herself for six hours a day once a week--it's as if I work six days a week) that I began to resent not only the guilt trips and the feeling that I didn't count, but also the original decision to put the training off. I began to resent my wife over a decision I had made freely. When this opportunity came along, I told her I wanted to do it and that I would find a way to make it work for both of us. And I did. To her credit, we had both changed some by then, and although she made a few sighs and still makes occasional comments about me being gone on these days, she quickly accepted that I wouldn't be happy if I didn't take the course and was not willing to put it off any longer. I think she took a look at our son and realized that he's now two years old . . . so she's been putting me off and I've been allowing it for two years. That's long enough.
I recently had a substitute job in a school where the staff was really impressed for some reason, and the principal pulled me aside and talked to me in private about joining them long-term this spring and possibly full-time next year. That would be a huge load off my mind, as it seems like a great place to work and that district pays more than the job I lost last year. It's a bit more of a commute, but it's also in the same city as my gun club and the BJJ school I used to attend. I'm getting a little ahead of myself, but if I did get that job, I'd finish the EMT training in June, then pick up where I left off at the BJJ school during the summer, get caught up and settle in to stopping in after school twice a week. That would be a dream come true, and it seemed like serendipity that I had begun a serious weight-loss program the week before. I do hope it all comes together.
More to come . . . I'm basically just journaling. Next post will talk more about the relationship with my wife and her GAL, but I'm sure this one is long already.
I do need to update this, but today I'm just stopping in to say that I got a full-time job today. It will actually pay better than my old one, and the BJJ gym and gun club are both on my way home now.
