The absence of

Sex. My muse, my will, my motivation.

He was gone and there was nothing I could do. I'd never have him, I don't know that he was ever mine to begin with. At the same time as this rent in my heart was split wide I finally bit the bullet and admitted I was in a funk I couldn't get out of. Cue Lexapro.

It was wonderful to be at a continual even keel. Truly. My friends and family all remarked on how calm I seemed, less harried, able to slow down and enjoy and not stress over everything all the time.

Suddenly though, my motto of "An orgasm a day" was forgotten. I didn't even think about sex.

Uh, I'm a sex blogger, I read beautiful, stirring, erotic things all day from others in the community and that's not even mentioning the images. I love sex, it's a integral part of my day. Suddenly though, the desire had flown swiftly from me.

I couldn't give you an honest evaluation of what percentage each event had in the disappearance of my libido. The most heart-achingly painful thing to see in me though was the drying up of the wellspring of creativity. I knew losing my lover had a great deal to do with that, but a lot of my writing came from being simply turned on... I was suddenly rendered in a perpetual state of OFF.
Something had to be done. Boundaries explored, a solution to be had. Masturbation suddenly took 30 minutes, a previously unheard of length of time, and I might as well forget involving a partner, I couldn't even get wet. It wasn't like other medications, where I might as well have been Barbie for all of the sensation created in my erogenous zone, this was more like a dull echo. I felt it, I could vaguely tell it was pleasant, but eh... I could be playing Minecraft.

I approached my Dr about my concerns. After all, a woman at her peak doesn't go from positively exuding sex to being a diminished light overnight. Creams were prescribed to increase sensation, and assurances of normalcy issued. The problem is, even with the possibility of sensation being increased, I didn't have the desire. In fact, when the compound wasn't ready when it was supposed to be at the pharmacy I merely shrugged my shoulders and didn't go back. Lack of desire.

So, I flirt and I flit, and try to go through the motions. I try falling back in love with me and focus what creativity I have on pictures, on revealing myself to myself. My sister carries the brunt of the force of our blog and due to luck and a previously raging muse, I have pieces in draft from back when I was that goddess of smoldering sexuality. The things I do produce are lackluster, I can see the drop in interest...

Sometimes the dam breaks. Sometimes the tears fall, the indifference is lifted, and sometimes I feel the spark. There are so many beautiful and provocative people in my blogesphere, it's impossible not to be moved. I get wet at the thought of someone's hands caressing me, the sight of someone's body captured in ecstasy. A flirt and banter exchange with someone will move me to get naked, grab my camera and be the embodiment of sex I so recently was and always had been. I owe so many thanks to so many people who have unwittingly jump started my drive.

It is a heavy weight in my heart, the decision of continuing on a medication that I see making improvements in my somewhat crumpled world right now, or gaining back my passion, my zeal, and my lust for life and all the sexy things in it...

I'm still not entirely sure what path to take, but right now I feel as though I'm in a holding pattern, in the absence of... anything.