Thoughts That Go Astray, or Stray Thoughts That I Have.

My mind is a great, and at times a terrible thing.  I pride myself on being pretty smart…to be frank I can be arrogant about my intelligence, which is one of my many faults.  For all my smarts I can sometimes be paralyzed by the thoughts in my head, or at the very least very distracted by them.  I see things very differently from most people, which allows me to do the many sexually wild/taboo/etc things that I do, but at the same time things that many take for granted mystify me or even just hold me back.

Because of the job I have, the commute I have and the structure of my family life I have a lot of time where I have to be someplace, but I am not required to be entirely “present” when I am there.  I end up spending a lot of time half mentally engaged in something, not able to check out, but not needing to fully focus.  The result is a lot of dead or captive time and a lot of unused mental bandwidth…an idle mind really is the devil’s plaything.

Like I suppose happens to most people, when my mind wanders but I am not free my mind often turns to negative thoughts and insecurity.  Or, just as often it can turn to flights of fancy with a negative, wishful bent.  Like, “I wish I was…” or “I wish I had….”  These thoughts don’t motivate me to change anything, and I realize that if I stop and really pay attention to them that they are either escapist fantasy, or they somehow, at their root, represent other things about me or my life that I want to go differently.  When I have the time to think on them they are constructive and give me insight. When I don’t take that time they can be really distracting and cause me to feel sad and regretful.

As a case in point.  This morning I had to go to a meeting at a facility off site from my usual work.  When I pulled into my parking spot another car pulled in right across from me.  I looked in the rearview mirror and watched as two women got out.  Being a guy, I can’t help but look at and watch women.  One of the women happened to have the most luscious looking ass that I have seen in a long time, and perhaps (to me) the best looking ass I’ve ever seen on a white woman.  Happily I watched her get her coat on and she and her colleague walked toward the building…I was all too happy to follow.  The woman with the delightful ass also was very well dressed and had nice hair that she has styled with big wavy curls…obviously she knew how to take care of herself and spent a lot of time to look good.  The other woman was not as attractive, but was well dressed and well put together.

As I walked behind them, admiring them the thought came to me…I wish I had a hot wife.  It filled me quickly with a feeling of inadequacy thinking; my wife isn’t hot, I’m not hot, how would I ever attract a hot woman, could I satisfy a hot woman, I’ll never be with a hot woman…. and on and on.  Added to that, the kinky crossdresser side of of me came out and I thought about how I’d like to be a pretty woman, and be able to dress pretty and do make up and have men stare at me.

I entered the building, and sat behind this lovely pair for the duration of the meeting, able to soak them in without them having any idea that I was checking them out the whole time.  Today though I had the luxury of stopping my thoughts and examining them.  Usually I have these thoughts, they’re half formed cravings, and then I am rushed into the next thing, or the next thought and the old thoughts stay in my mind like a bad after taste.  Not really there, but not gone either.  And their sadness and self deprecation stay.

Today I could sit and think and figure out what I was thinking.  Realizing the craving for these women was first and foremost just an expression of my biology.  I’m a man, I want to have sex with them.  Then I thought about my desire to have a hot looking partner and realized that the desire is really about external validation for me.  I have two women who love me, and I have relationships with.  They aren’t “hot” but they love me, and each are beautiful in their own way.  Having a hot wife would be fun to look at, and would certainly turn me on, but it wouldn’t cure my feelings of inadequacy and I probably would still keep a wandering eye noticing the other gorgeous women that I don’t have rather than being satisfied with the one I have.

I am at the root of things the cause of my own problems, and until I solve me, nothing will ever quite be good enough.

In thinking about the kink and the crossdressing…I know that I have no desire to be transgender.  And I know that I don’t want to upend my life for the thrill any enjoyment that occasional crossdressing brings to me.  So for that, I can realize that I can be 98% content with just doing it as I do now, and being jealous of those who get do it more or better than I can.  The same way I can be jealous of those who are tall, but I don’t waste any mental bandwidth on it.  That problem is pretty easy to solve.

The kinky part is a little harder.  I love sex, and I love kink.  I love reading about kinky adventures on blogs and watching porn.  That exposes me to all sorts of women who are “sex positive” or men who are in relationships with women who are.  Neither of the women that I am with are either kinky, or exploratory.  And while I have no room really to complain, I want a partner who is as kinky as I am.  While I enjoy reading and living vicariously through others, at some times it pains me.  I realize that the women I read and read about are a small percentage of most women, but still I know there are many of you out there, and you’re fabulous and I don’t have access to one of you.  My struggle is real.  I’m not sure what the best solution is.  Give up looking at blogs and porn, or just realize that if it is meant to be that someday I’ll have my fantasies realized.

Today is a good day, and my thoughts are in check.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

The Curse of a Partner With Low Sex Drive When You Have Low Self Esteem

Jenn and I have been together sexually for a very long time.  She was my first partner, the one I learned about what sex was really like with, and the one who I’ve had the most experience with.  We’ve changed over time, more me than her, and I’ve had a lot of experiences over the years, especially the last ten years, but she hasn’t.

Because she was my first and only partner for a long time, I thought that what we experienced was just entirely normal, and how everyone did it.  We had fun sex as teenagers, and had what seemed like an adequate share of it, and I was happy.  Once we were married (already together for 8 years and sexually active for 7) we’d already been together a long time, and the frequency of sex slowed down.  I had done some kinky self exploration as a teen, she had done none.  In fact she’d never masturbated until after we had sex for the first time.

Then I met Amy, and my understanding of female sexuality and relationship sex totally blew up.  All that I thought I knew, and all my expectations changed, in a great way.  But Jenn didn’t.

After our children were born the frequency of my and Jenn’s sexual encounters plummeted even more.  We’d go for nearly a month without sex, and when we had it, it was dull and uninteresting.  Jenn, always heavy had put on considerable weight and I no longer found her physically attractive.  There were always excuses for why we weren’t having sex, usually centered around the kids and fatigue, and while I wanted sex I didn’t push it because I wasn’t that interested in it with Jenn.  It was disappointing, but I accepted it as the way it was.

Then this winter Jenn had bypass surgery and has lost over 100lbs.  She has become MUCH more attractive to me, but even more importantly she has found herself attractive and has a new found pride in herself and her appearance.  She’s dressing more feminine than ever before, and I am loving the change.  Sex is more fun, she’s more flexible, and she’s more into herself, all of which are hot.  The only problem is that she’s just not that into sex.

And that’s where I run into trouble.  When I’m feeling depressed like I am now, I take it personally.  Her lack of interest makes me wonder; is it me, if I were a different or better man would she be more sexual.  If I had a bigger dick would she be more satisfied and more into it?  I know that women’s sexuality is complicated and lots and lots of women just aren’t that into it, but then I come online and find all sorts of fellow bloggers who love sex, are curious to try things, and some that seem down right insatiable.  I know it isn’t really me, but the depressed and irrational part of my psyche can’t help but wonder, and that tears at me.

I try to encourage, I try to flirt, I try to be loving and sexy.  It doesn’t get me very far.  We will sometimes have sexy little exchanges online during the day, and I get excited, thinking that we’re going to have a great time in the evening, and then by the time the kids are in bed the mojo is gone and all I get is frustration.  Again, I know that is circumstance, but I also know that it could be different.

Jenn is in general a relatively cold and kind of non-emotive person, and a lot of times I can handle that.  But as I have grown and changed over the years sometimes I find that really hard to take, and it messes with my already (at times) fragile sense of myself.  The struggle, as they say, is real.

A Missed Opportunity With a Side of Self Directed Anger

A fellow blogger (who will remain nameless) recently came to NYC for work and invited me to join her and some other bloggers for a meet and greet.  I’d never met this woman, but we’ve started a blogging connection as I am a fan of her writing, and I make comments on her posts.  She is gracious enough to respond and we’ve had a mini dialogue.

She invited me to a cocktail get together and I was really excited for the opportunity.  It seemed like a lot of fun to meet this woman, and the other bloggers and put faces and personality to the voices that I read online.  I worked to make it work in my schedule, which is complicated, and began to envision what it would be like to meet these people, and how the evening might go.  And I thought about how thrilling it would be to be live and in person with more or less total strangers with whom I could bare my dark secrets and outrageous stories.

And then doubt set it.  Unfortunately for me lately I have a lot of time to think.  I enjoy thinking most of the time, and am proud of my intelligence.  But then there are times that I really think waaaaaay too much.  I began to worry about what the other women bloggers would think about me and my story.  My blog clearly chronicles my infidelity and my completely dastardly and self-centered exploits.  I know that people these days are very comfortable and often very supportive of alternative sexuality and new definitions of self, but I also know that many many people have a visceral reaction to cheating.  Even though so many people have affairs, if you’ve been the victim of one, or know someone who has it often leaves a bitter taste and you can’t condone it.  I worried that I would make things awkward and I didn’t want to do that and ruin a good time for everyone else.

In my doubt about my desire to go I allowed myself to be roped into family plans for that evening, and didn’t say no.  Before I said anything to keep my options open, plans were made and I was no longer free to get away.  And thats when I got really mad at myself.

I have come to learn that my biggest limitation in my life is my own self doubt.  Before my affair and all the counseling that went along with it I used to be very confident, and always had a devil may care attitude about just about anything.  It hid a deep deep well of insecurity and low self esteem, but I was superbly confident about the things I was confident about.  Likewise, if something doesn’t involve me personally I can see it clearly and have excellent judgement about it.  The minute it involves me personally though forget about it.  My judgement goes out the window and my confidence goes right with it.  I start making irrational choices and impulsive decisions, or worse, make no decision at all.

The counselor told me that it stems from my childhood and the general neglect I suffered.  My childhood is far beyond me, and I am responsible for my actions, but still now I can see the mistakes happen and the doubt creep in where before it would have happened but I wouldn’t have been aware.  Now I can see it though and often can’t stop it, the feelings and the action fill me with a special kind of rage that is aimed at myself.

Its a little like falling over a cliff and being unable to stop it, except you are the one flinging yourself off the cliff.  They say that only you can make you happy, and that is entirely true.  But what do you do when you can’t make yourself happy.  When you can’t come to peace with yourself, and your very actions fill you with anger, and you’re the only one to blame?  Its a frustrating place to be in, made all the more frustrating by the understanding that I did it to myself.

I work to avoid such behavior and I work to make things better for myself, but time and again I make the same mistakes.  It feels a little like what I imagine being and alcoholic must feel like.  You don’t want to drink.  You know drinking is bad.  Yet still you reach for the drink and poison your life.  Instead of reaching for the bottle, I figure out a way to shoot myself in the foot.

Somehow I have to find a way to get back to the confident and take charge self I used to be since I can’t seem to come to terms with the me that I am now.  The problem is that I can’t be confident in myself when I have come to be so judgmental of my decisions and my choices and I have so often stopped listening to my gut when that is precisely what I should be listening to.

A Wandering Mind is a Terrible Thing

The return have school has made me very busy, but it has also made me something of a captive.  I am held captive by having too much time on my hands in which to think scattered and often negative thoughts and not enough time to take any action to make good things happen.  And very little time at all for any fun sex, never mind sex with strangers, of which I’ve had none since the spring.

Interestingly though I have had my fantasies wander a bit.  While I am solidly bisexual, almost all of my sexual fantasies that got me hot focused on men for the longest time.  In fact it seemed like for a while that the only way I could get hard and get off on my own was by thinking of having sex with a man.  Now all of a sudden I don’t think of men at all and am back to thinking about sex with women.  In the past I often fantasized about kinkier exchanges and now I find myself thinking of good old vanilla sex with any of a number of the cute women I see on a daily basis.

Back to the the wandering mind being bad though…last week I was visited by a fit of paranoia unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.  All I can attribute it to is a lack of sleep and the fact that I have this kind of caged up time, when I am kind of waiting for one thing or another to be over so I can move on to the next thing.  That and I think that in my subconscious I don’t know how to exist without some drama or another.  My life has been going generally smoothly and steadily, and I don’t know if I know how to handle that.  I need some sort of problem, some negativity, some threat, at least my brain tells me so.

A Bit of Hard Earned Wisdom

I have been striving to figure myself out for a number of years, most of the time with little or no result other than more confusion.  With the help of counseling, and with hard experience I’ve learned some lessons and figured somethings out, but as often as not I’ve come away with more questions than answers. 

Occasionally the mist clears and something becomes clear and apparent. A week ago I set out by myself on a solo hiking adventure. It had been some time since I’d spent any time entirely on my own, and that time is extremely valuable to me. It’s only entirely by myself and generally in the wilderness that I can truly relax and really get in touch with me and find any sort of clarity.

I had set myself and aggressive hiking agenda and was supposed to cross something off my hiking “bucket list” but it turns out that my fitness has declined and that I was over ambitious…that realization was painful, as was the hiking itself, which turned out to be the hardest hike I’d ever done, bar none.  But what I didn’t accomplish in my hiking plan didn’t take away from the clarity I gained from the time alone and from throwing my body hard at the wall of physical challenge.

I’m rarely satisfied and I am often envious of others and the lives they live, and the things they do and have. Some time ago I mostly mastered my lust and desire for material things, realizing they don’t make me happy.  But still I’ve lusted after sexual experiences with both men, but particularly women, and I’ve sooo often hungered for a better female partner.  I love Jenn and Amy, but no matter what there was always a girl that was cuter, or more interesting, or more feminine or more whatever.  I’d stare, I’d fantasize, I’d imagine what it was like to be with them, and in the process put down what I have, which is a lot. 

But then while hiking it dawned on me. Mid known it intellectually, but never felt it, but there it finally was.  To be able to feel the realization that the problem isn’t with my partners, it’s with me in terms of realizing that I need to be happy and figure out what I want.  Until I am happy and satisfied, no woman would ever be anything enough to satisfy me. There would always be better and I’d always be lusting after it. It sounds dumb and common sense, but I needed to feel it and understand it in my guts.  I don’t know how to be happy or satisfied with myself yet, but knowing is indeed half the battle.  Since that realization I still enjoy looking at women, but now I look at the. For their beauty and charm, the way a person looks at a beautiful vista just for the pleasure of it.  No longer am I day dreaming and fantasizing about how they are better than what I already have. Maybe it’s a small realization to some, but it was a big and important thing for me.

Tired of the Deception

As anyone who reads my blog knows I live in a world of deception and lies.  I am a married man who has carried on a multi-year affair with the same woman.  Beyond that I have had sex with numerous people, men and women, who weren’t either of those two women.  Beyond that I have told many lies at different times and different situations.  In spite of that, when I am not lying I am brutally honest to a fault, which is a weird dichotomy in me.

I learned to lie, and to have two selves growing up in a crappy house and a crappy family, living in fear of being taken away by the state at any moment if the authorities found out about how we lived.  I grew up pretending to be something at school that I wasn’t in order to mask the reality at home.  There was no love or support to be found at home, so to keep from going crazy I lied to myself there to act as though things were alright when they weren’t.  Those lies lead me to be my own best friend, trust no one, and tell no one the real truth.

As an adult now my world is much better and more stable.  I have a good job, make solid money, and my house is happy and healthy (at least on the face of it).  I have been through therapy and counseling, and a lot of living, and through that I am more honest than ever, and more one person/personality than ever before, but still honesty doesn’t come easy to me when I feel compelled to lie.  I have one friend in the world who knows all the different components of me, but even she doesn’t know much of my past or back story, only because we have never had the occasion to speak on it.  With her I am completely honest, and that is an amazing treat.  With Amy I am totally honest about everything, except my sexual exploits.  My relationship with her is amazing, and affirming, and really keeps me going through all the daily madness.  But still I can’t feel that I can be entirely honest with her.  Still I have myself for comfort and little else.

I would love to be open with the world, and be free to be who I am, whatever that is.  But it often feels that I have so little in the category of friend and family that I don’t dare risk losing those people for fear I’ll never find others.  I don’t dare risk figuring out who I am for fear that no one will love me, or care for me.  It is easier to subvert and to be the character I broadcast than to take the risk and find out who I really am, and live that life.  Most of the time I am ok with the sacrifice and the living multiple lives, and sometimes I’m not.

In case you’re wondering, this really isn’t a sexuality thing as far as wrestling with being gay or anything like that.  I’m bisexual, and I am totally ok with that personally.  I don’t know that any of my friends and family would be, but I am ok with that.  It’s bigger than that.  I don’t know who I’d be other than the guy that I am now, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to purge the duality that exists within me.  Sometimes I feel closer to that truth than ever, but then other times I realize how far from it I am, and it comes back with a crushing weight.  

    Anyway, if you’ve read this far, thanks for taking the time to do so.  This blog really started out for me as a place to vent my inner thoughts, journal or diary style.  It’s often been a sexual kiss and tell, or a relationship vent, but whatever it is it is my story and I hope you find it interesting in some way.

When You’re the One Saying No to Yourself

I struggle with myself, I struggle with my past, and I struggle with my place in the world.  I have a great stinking pile of insecurity in my soul and while I do battle with it on a regular basis, most often it wins.  I have been in counseling off and on for the better part of the last five years, and have learned much, sometimes good, and sometimes bad, but still I struggle with it.

The latest manifestation, and perhaps the most pervasive and difficult is my ability to say yes to myself, and to find myself worthy of getting what I want.  Regardless of what it is, most of the time I deny myself what I want, whether it is under the guise of what Jenn wants, or worries about money, or time, or simply be being indecisive and missing opportunities.  Regardless of how I do it, I do it all the time.  It is a maddening and frustrating trap to be in, and it hurts.  It puts pressure on me that doesn’t exist anywhere else but in my head, and it robs me of soooo much in life.  It is in fact the defining force, the current that undermines most of my life in terms of the choices and actions I make for myself.  I try to battle it, but it feels like trying to stop the waves from pounding on the shore.  

The only one really stopping me is me, and that is the most powerful enemy that I could ever imagine.

Life Comes at You Fast

Today is another day, and just maybe it could be a better one.  I have no new answers no new insight, but the same old uncertainty which has been joined this morning with a dose of apathy. 

I got my first angry, but insightful comment on my blog.  The person (after looking at their blog) seems to have suffered through being cheated on, and of course has some strong feelings on the subject.  His comments, while somewhat harsh, are pretty accurate and logical.  He opined that I need to figure myself out, communicate openly with Jenn, and cast off Amy, and maybe, or maybe not stay with Jenn.

Those are probably the “right” things to do, but it isn’t easy, and doesn’t necessarily feel right to me.  It doesn’t take into account a whole lot of lives, and a whole lot of hearts.  Perhaps I am a coward, or a wuss, of just too “nice” to do what needs to be done.  I don’t know.  I am admittedly and extremely flawed person.  I’ll be the first to admit it, and I am often full of self loathing and personal disgust for myself.  I don’t know what’s right for me, what I deserve, or what I am worth. 

Everyone deserves to be happy, but at what cost?  How much is happiness worth, and how does one decide to settle for one level of happiness?  I thought, before I met Amy that I knew what happiness was, I thought I had it nailed in, and figured out.  Then I learned about all that I had been missing, and how good things could be.  It has cast my understanding of the world, and my situation in it into stark doubt that I am still trying to unravel.

Could I, as my commenter suggested, just realize that who you love is a choice, and make the choice, and live with the consequences?  Yes, I could, but who am I to chose?

General Meh

Alright, for those of you who read this blog for the sexy bits, you’ll be disappointed by this entry…very little of sexy here this time.  I don’t know if that’s because I’ve been blue, or if I’ve been blue due to the lack of sex?  Hmmmmm??

Anyway, it’s my blog and I’ll write what I want to, right?  I’ve been in something of a funk the last few days.  I should be quite ecstatic because it is the beginning of my summer vacation and all, which usually makes me quite happy.  This year I find myself quite blah.  My job, for reasons that have nothing to do with me, is in question, meaning will I have one, that’s problem #1.  There is a great deal of uncertainty in my life in general right now, and virtually none of it is in my control, or anything to do with me directly, but it all impacts me.  I like change and I like variety, but too much of it all at one time is rather unsettling, especially when you have no control over it.

Control is something that I feel has been quite lacking for me of late, and it has gotten tiresome.  I am usually a go with the flow kind of guy, but not so much lately.

On top of this general malaise are Jenn and Amy.  There is no real problem with either, but both have been a bit of a challenge lately for me.  Amy is dear, sweet and wonderful.  But lately she has become more covetous of my time, and really wants to be with me, which is great, but I am really craving/needing some time along to set my head straight.  Jenn on the other hand, I have more than enough time with, and she has been sick and grouchy for the last two weeks.  She is somewhat emotionally cold anyway, and when she’s sick it’s amplified.  Our sex life, which is slow at best anyway has virtually ground to a halt.  She’s been reading 50 Shades of Grey, but that hasn’t sparked her interest enough to want to have sex. Sigh.  She’s not really into the whole BDSM thing either, which is a double sigh, because that would be fun for me if she was.

So ultimately I feel really blah about my life, trapped by my circumstances, and a slave to my life.  My life is, ultimately a pleasant one, but it isn’t making me happy at this point.  I was blue enough this morning to think about dying.  I’m not suicidal in the least, but the thought this morning of ending things, or at the very least going to bed for a very loooooooong time was kind of appealing.

Ups and Downs

Life gets crazy sometimes, doesn’t it?  That seems like a lot to say when I look back at some of the craziness that I’ve written about here, and even more than I haven’t.  Anyway, life has gotten in the way and I really haven’t had a moment when I could update my blog.  But I’m not really sure that any of you really care to know all that, so I’ll move on.

At my last update I was looking at a weekend at home alone, and a possible variety of sexual adventures, or mis-adventures.  I had some ideas in mind, had placed some ads on CL and…in the end, I decided to skip most of the sexual adventures, and spend some time with myself, hiking, and relaxing.  And, having the freedom to choose, I chose to spend some time Saturday evening with Amy.  We had tentatively agreed that I would take the weekend for myself.  I never get time for myself, and both agreed that it would be good for me to do that.  I was happy that she was in on the idea, because in thinking about the weekend it was the perfect dodge for me to launch off on any adventure that I chose.  Having decided to skip any of the adventure choices, because I just wasn’t feeling it, then I decided late Saturday night to call Amy.  She and I went and played pool, then she came back to my house and spent the night after a delicious and sensuous love making session.

I haven’t talked too much about my times with Amy, but in bed, things are always delicious.  She enjoys sex as much as I do, although she isn’t nearly as kinky as I am.  She is easy to please, and requires no effort to get her turned on.  She is beautiful naked…a little more curvy than most men would probably prefer, but to me she’s just right.  She’s sensitive in all the right places, and I can make her cum in just about any position, with any technique that I try to use.  Her vagina has very full lips, and takes on a “pouty” look that I adore and find really attractive.  We fit together extremely well, and she makes me feel wonderful, and she makes me feel like a stud because I can please her so often, and so easily.  After we made love that night, we settled down for the evening and slept.  When I sleep with Amy we both sleep incredibly soundly, so much so that we’ve both woken up many times with sore and stiff shoulders from sleeping on them all night long without turning.

Sunday I resumed the bachelor life, and launched into a new obsession which for the last month dispelled my thoughts of sex with random people.  Jen and I have always been bad with managing our money, and despite quite healthy incomes, we have a very large load of credit card debt that we can never seem to pay off.  We’ve always lived slightly beyond our means, and as the years roll by it is a larger and larger burden.  Neither of us want to reduce our spending and fun, so I am always on the lookout for solid ways for us to earn our way out of debt.  Lately I’ve seized on buying a second home.  That Sunday I looked at houses with a realtor, and since then I have been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to make it work, and other ways to take control of my life, both financially and emotionally.  Until this week, I have largely put all thoughts of sexual adventure out of my head, and felt just fine about it.

Well, my house buying seems to have hit a road block, and here I find myself again thinking about sex.  I’m not sure if it’s a diversion from less pleasant things, or perhaps it’s a control thing.  By reaching out to men (and a couple that I’m trying to get with) for sex, I can take risk, create adventure, but feel like I have control on it.  It costs little or no money, it’s exciting, and because no one else knows about it, no one can tell me no.

I have real issues, that I am in counseling for, about my worth, and my ability to control my fate.  Intellectually I know that I am a grown man, and am free to make decisions for myself, but time after time I deny myself things for no particular reason other than junk in my own head.  Perhaps worst is that everything inconsistent for me.  I might say that I’m going to go on a strict weightloss program, and be really dedicated to it, but the next day I’ll make up some really rediculous excuse for why I can skip a day, or what have you.  So I make decisions to fix things I don’t like or are not good for me, then I find excuses to defeat my own fixes.  I think that I love Amy, but then I won’t allow myself to leave Jen and so on, and so on, and so on.

Sometimes I know I think too much, but then I’me worried that if I’m not thinking, that I’ll go through life blind and miss so many opportunities.  It makes my head spin, and nearly makes me crazy!