I’ve suffered debilitating anxiety most of my life. As I have grown older my anxiety seems to have found renewed vigor and strength. Recently my anxiety has been wreaking havoc on my body and brain. Fortunately, I no longer freak out and panic the way I once used to do as a younger man. I am familiar with this bastard now and not so easily thrown into panic by its unsettling assaults. I handle my anxiety fits (as one therapist once called them) with the practiced and controlled terror of a man who has faced serious battle thousands of times.
Yesterday, in the middle of my work day, I was seized with yet another terrible fit of what my wife refers to as a “severe fucking mental illness.” Everything was going relatively fine and then suddenly I was having intense and what feels like very real unnerving thoughts about my own end. My chest swells, various pains shoot into my left arm, I can’t see straight and my soul feels like it’s going to come undone from my body. I feel like a very fragile, glass man who could shatter into mortal pieces at any moment. The apprehension and severe uneasiness caused by my messed-up brain forces me to clench my fists and jaw, use walls for support, walk slowly, struggle to breathe and hold on for dear life. It often lasts for hours and qualifies for what many would could a near death experience. Then it passes, leaving me feeling like I have a swollen and abused brain in my skull, which has just been forced to run a miserable marathon. I hate that I go through this all the time (and I mean all the time) but I don’t hate it enough to take pills in what is an often a futile attempt to make it go away.
For over two decades I have been searching my-messed-up-and-sometimes-mentally-ill-mind for solutions to solve the problem of my-messed-up-and-sometimes-mentally-ill-mind (probably not the most logical thing to do). This morning I decided that I am going to go gay for the weekend. My wife is going on a long road trip for the weekend and I will be left at home alone with my dogs, my problems, my isolation, my addictions, my books, my mental illness and my lack of any friends or family around. In the absence of anything that looks like a well-functioning human being, I figure it is a good time to try out being gay. When I told my wife about my idea she said, “Maybe a little cock would do you some good.”
Maybe a little cock would do me some good? Not the reply I was expecting or wanting to get from my wife, but it is an interesting thought and at this point in my mid-life I am willing to entertain it. What do I have to lose? I have been domesticated and am stuck at a real job now. The American Dream has turned my life into an uninspiring, dull and average nightmare which lacks art. Any chances of succeeding at my more anti-American dreams seems to have passed and a vast majority of productive life is now behind me. I have tried pills, porn, prostitutes, marijuana, shamans, diet regimes, exercise plans, detoxes, month long meditation retreats, art therapy, abstaining from parents, serious amounts of alcohol (which is the only thing that really works), séances, ceremonial sweats, solitude, bio-mats, crystal healing, daily blow jobs and many other things. Nothing has solved the problem of my mentally ill mind. I am desperate for a solution to this hell, which ravages my life in the same way that tornados ravage the large majority of poor people living in the Southeast/Midwest rooting for billionaire Trump. I blame my parents and the childhood traumas that they put me through for this mental illness that I must contend with every day now, but blame does me no good. It got me nowhere in my twenties and thirties. So maybe in my forties cock could work?
I have often heard it said that a repressed homosexuality can cause a man a great deal of uncontrollable and severe anxiety. As a psychotherapist, I work with gay men (who are having much more fun than the entire heterosexual community combined). They often talk about the tumultuous anxiety that they experienced before exposing themselves to cock and the complete absence of anxiety after. I often think that my gay clients seem unusually happy and that there must be some kind of connection between unlocking repressed sexual desires (cock) and life fulfillment. So why not give cock a try? If it could possibly help relieve me of this burdensome affliction that I carry around, why not?
I have always taken for fact the fact that I love women. I have always been able to identify and appreciate an attractive man (which there seem to be few of in comparison to the number of attractive women) but I have never felt compelled to want to see him naked or touch parts of his hot body in the same way that I want to reach out and touch an attractive woman. I am drawn to attractive women in the same way that I am drawn to food that I love. When I see it I want it. I desire women like a mosquito desires human blood. I want them. I love them. I lust them. They take me to the best parts of my life. I love seeing them nude and playing with their bodies in the same way that a child enjoys playing with toys. Playing with and watching women’s naked and attractive bodies induces anxiety free rainbows in my mind. I know I am using a lot of analogies here but it is important for me to communicate how much I love the female form. But still, maybe a little cock would do me some good?
Maybe this intense desire for women could be a cover up for my real longing for men? Oh God, this is a frightening thought but as a psychotherapist I am willing to be a dedicated practitioner of my profession and investigate this one all the way to its very tip, I mean end. When I see a woman I am attracted to, the impulse to want to touch her breasts or butt is so strong that it could be the result of a latent homosexuality that I am trying to hide from myself. This is possible yet when I see food that I really like and feel an intense desire to eat it, is this the result of simple hunger or because of something deeper down? After eight years of psychotherapeutic training I am conditioned to believe it is the result of something deeper down.
I will not conclude yet that I could be gay. This just feels wrong. I love women too much. But I have an entire weekend to explore if there may be some latent homosexuality in me that is causing me mental anguish. I am willing to go to a few gay bars and maybe a gay sex club in Los Angeles this weekend to see. I will put myself in precarious and unsettling situations where I can experience possible cock. Even if just for a minute or two. I feel absolutely no desire for male flesh that expands and contracts (right now), but maybe this is because something deeper is blocked in me and possibly my anxiety is the result of this blocked homosexual energy screaming to get out. Possibly. I am so desperate at this point in my-domesticated-and-mentally-ill-middle-class-life, that I am now more than ever willing to listen to my wife and see if cock could work.