Men, Sex and Depression

The thing with Mental Illness is it’s easy to latch on to things that make you feel better. I can see how alcoholism and depression go hand in hand. You’re looking for a quick way out of the pain, something to help you endure. I’ve never had an addictive personality but now, being recently ‘broken up with‘ (my friend refuses to let me use the word dumped) I can see how my rebounding with men has become a security blanket.

The rush. The glee. The newness. There is nothing like having new firsts with a person you’re enthralled with. Combine that with my OCD and you have me repeating convos and sexual encounters in my head – feeling good, almost high, off the memories. But after several of these type of situations, I’m left feeling empty. The men are gone and I realize I have nothing that even measures up to what I had with my ex. And then what’s left but me, myself and my depression. I feel hollow.

And it scares me. Am I addicted to that feeling that is inevitably fleeting? Am I that broken that that is where I find my happiness? This can’t be my life.

A friend of mine gave me some sage advice. To slow it down. Look at my day, write, edit my book, do simple things – building blocks. So here I am writing, hoping to fill that void. Build myself back up.

I cannot enter into another relationship without finding my own happiness first – maybe this way I’ll avoid the pitfalls of my last. This is my new goal in life.

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