Dilator Dilemma

Today class we’re going to talk about dilators. Does anyone know what one of those is?

I didn’t. Not until our best friend vaginismus came along. Women with vaginismus (including myself) are often given the advice to use dilators, to get the vagina used to something substantial up there. Sound great don’t they? Well I have these and there scaring me to death. I got given them at one of my appointments and am terrified to use them. They sit there, hidden in a drawer, disguised as a makeup bag, in my room. Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I should use them; I just don’t know if I could handle not being able to take one bigger than a tampon. I can use tampons, easily. But there are 4 sizes in my bag of fun, and only the little one seems plausible right now. Which is severely depressing.

Of course I have to just man up really, but as in most cases; that’s easier said than done. There’s a huge difference between manning up and putting it up (there).

Ben once said to me that I was essentially using him as a human dilator, having sex with him for my vagina’s sake rather than because I wanted to have sex with him for pleasure. And to be honest, I think he was right. So I suppose I should get used to using a dilator made out of plastic, rather than one made out of Ben.

That picture above is the exact set that I have by the way, oh and here's some websites to do with treatment for vaginismus:

http://www.nhs.uk/Conditions/Vaginismus/Pages/Treatment.aspx
http://www.vaginismus-awareness-network.org/single.html
http://www.vaginaldilator.co.uk/how-to-use-a-vaginal-dilator.html

happy researching!

xAx

Exposed

I should really be doing some coursework right now but it makes me do this:

And I feel I owe you an update…

I’ve been sexless for a month and it’s been interesting, nerve-racking, but interesting.

Things happened with Mark, drunk things at a house party and I’m not sure how I feel about them. In a nutshell, we would have sex if he’d had a condom, but he didn’t. I had one though, but I left it to fate to decide my sex life; if Mark had a condom, we’d have or at least attempt to have sex. This was probably a very clear sign that I wasn’t ready for anything at all, but through a drunken haze, the reality of sleeping with someone new (with or without vaginismus to take into account) doesn’t seem such a bad idea.

I’m gonna take a few steps back here, as you may be wondering whether Mark knows or not. He does. I didn’t tell him though, he found out all on his own. Had a bit of a dramatic Friday; Mark asked to borrow my new laptop (which I have yet to figure out how to securely store private files on) and I said yes and quickly moved all the current blog hard copies into a random folder. To no prevail. He stumbled across the files, which I still think is pretty out of order, he had to dig to find them! I don’t know, maybe he knew I was hiding something; after the whole thing had calmed down a bit he said “this does actually explain a lot”. But who knows, he’s still lying to me anyway; my shiny new laptop also gives me a list of ‘recently opened documents’, Mark claims he read a bit of one then didn’t read anymore… but the evidence piles against him. All six blog entries in that particular folder had been recently opened, and he had two hours with my laptop, once again that is TWO HOURS!

You would read them all wouldn’t you? I certainly would.

I was hoping to tell him on MY terms, when I thought it was the right time, not having to explain myself through tears and shame with a touch of embarrassment thrown in there too.

I’m scared of explaining things to him, especially after that house party. Nothing’s happened since Dramatic Friday; no random kisses on staircases like before, it’s hard to pretend like nothing’s wrong with me when now he knows there really is. It was so much easier to just pretend everything was ok.

(Oh and just for issue of clarity, he still doesn't know about the blog as far as I'm aware and he only read 6 of the earlier blogs, thank god nothing about him...)

In other news, I have another Doctor’s appointment next week; and it's quite a bit of a big deal for me this time because it’s been a year since my very first examination, since all the attempts at dealing with vaginismus and since I actually told someone. A bloody rollercoaster and lies and sex and secrets. Hopefully I’ll be having another examination at this appointment; and I’ll try and be a bit more classy this time… I bet that support nurse has nightmares about me.

Stay sexy

xAx

A Week in the Life of xAx

Oh my goodness you have missed a lot; ok let me start on Monday, the day after I text Ben and he didn’t reply…

Monday: Delightful day of bitching about Ben and avoiding mark/rumours from Friday night. I avoid Mark until the end of break and go up and talk to him, apologising about ignoring him. I end up not seeing much of him until the end of the day when a cruel twist of fate has us waiting around for a teacher that never turns up, and we end up sitting there chatting and flirting for an hour and a half, it was nice, and I forgot how much I actually fancied him whilst I was with Ben. So yeah… one thing led to another and we… we may have… kissed. We kissed. One minute he was standing up to leave, the next we were kissing. The sad thing is that I can still remember the kiss. Is that bad? I pulled away and apologised over and over again, swiftly leaving the bench we were sitting on. It was a bad idea, I’m sure… but why do I still smile when I think about it?

Tuesday: Ben’s not going to reply, it’s been two whole days. Either he knows about Friday and doesn’t want to talk to me; he hasn’t got the text; he just doesn’t want to talk to me; is compiling an amazing text about how much he misses me and wants me to come to Cambridge straight away so we can have lots of attempts at having sex. I don’t know, I should probably give up. I think I might give up. It’s blatantly the ‘he just doesn’t want to talk to me’ option. I should give up. I started speaking to Mark again, it was nice, we were texting until quite late that night; you know the kind of texting where you really don’t want to fall asleep then you realise you’re texting with your eyes closed?

Wednesday: BOOM. Of course, sod’s fucking law. 5am: rudely woken up my phone which won’t stop buzzing ‘Your Text Message Memory is Full, Please Delete Messages’ I delete all the ones I sent to Mark Tuesday night; and what appears in my inbox. You’ve guessed it. Ben.

“Hey you :) I’m moderate thank you, how are you? Uni is brilliant, I’m sorry to say. So… how’s school going and everything? Have you passed your driving test yet? Say hi to your mum for me ;) I won’t ignore you if you don’t ignore me. It’s all mutual. I liked talking to you. We got on well. This is getting long winded. Please reply, when you have time :) love Ben x”

For fuck’s sake. I was so sure that night that I WANTED to get over Ben. Now I’m in two minds about everything. I reply later Wednesday evening, assuming I won’t get a reply for a few days again. But hey presto! Another reply. This one’s a little different though…

5:04am: “I have got your mrsssahes sorry for yo for not bgdieng tbam we had a good relatiohshghip I ship. Ive heatg you get with everyone. Sloerry wbu. Love you c”

I think this roughly translates as “I’ve received your messages sorry for not replying to them we had a good relationship. I’ve heard you get/got with everyone. Sorry. What you been up to? Love you x”

I get an apology text in the afternoon saying it was the drunkest night of his life. After this I decide to have a Ben-free evening and text Mark to see if he wants meet up for a drink after school, which he agrees to. Good right? This is me moving on, seeing other people. Since Ben’s having the time of his fucking life. Anyway as much as I was all up for moving on and meeting up with Mark for flirting and possible snogging over a Malibu and Coke, it didn’t go quite to plan… A mutual friend crashed. But it was still nice, and it proved to me that even after the drunk and sober snog with Mark, we can still work as friends. It was nice. Distracting.

Thursday: Nothing fun happened on Thursday. I had sausages for tea. (Literally the high point of my day.)

Friday: Went out after school with Mark, Frog, the Mutual Friend and another one of my friends to the pub. Still being friendly with him… maybe the flirtyness only happens when were on our own?

I got a text from Ben saying that he didn’t quite know what he meant by ‘I’ve heard you get/got with everyone’ and didn’t understand what he was talking about. That sentence made me think he knows about last Friday with Mark. Ben doesn’t go on Facebook that often but to be honest, you couldn’t miss that photo…

Saturday: Organised to go to the pub that evening with quite a few people including Mark and if I’m being completely honest, I arrived assuming I’d be drunkenly snogging him once again. But long story short; I didn’t. We were sat at a table must of the night and I was at the other end. The only thing was when we were standing next to each other talking to someone who had just arrived; he put one arm around me. Which I quite enjoyed. But when I our taxi arrived I looked around for him and he’d already left! Which seriously confused me, probably because I was quite drunk, but apparently he was trying to tell me he was leaving and it was loud so I didn’t hear him. Rubbish, I was quite up for some drunken snogging…

Sunday: The day I’m actually writing this. I woke up to an unread text from Mark saying:

1:54am: “You have no idea how much I didn’t want to leave”

I was revelling in the cuteness of this text when I noticed a whole conversation from Mark In my inbox! And the realisation slowly came over me that I’d broken the cardinal sin when it comes to people you fancy; never drunk text them. But having said that, Mark was obviously drunk too, so maybe we cancelled each other out… And if it gets me texts like this:

1:23am: “I really do need to man up don’t I? I really really really wanted to stay so that I could say goodbye properly. I guess I’ll just have to make up for it on Monday :) xxx”

…I suppose it’s ok to ignore the rules occasionally, they’re meant for breaking right?

xAx

Regretexting

SHIT SHIT SHIT

I just text Ben. It was a casual 'hey hows uni?' rather than 'hey why did you leave me?' or 'hey why the fuck haven't you text me you prick?'

but if it WAS casual (and not full of secret hope that it might lead to a fabulous conversation in which he confesses that he hasn't got with anyone at Fresher's week and hasn't been able to stop thinking about me) why have i got this awful feeling that i'm going to regret sending it..?

or what if he doesnt reply at all?!

SHIT SHIT SHIT

one of my friends just said to me: "the art of the rebound is to keep snogging random boys until you forget who Ben is." ... well, one down. how many more to go?

xAx

Cruel Intentions

Well, you missed an interesting night. I may have done something bad… but we’ll get to that. Let me fill you in on the leading up to/Friday night:
My Fuck It Target was Mark. One of my best guy friends and one of the relatively few untouched pieces of meat on offer that evening.

I know he’s liked me for quite a while now and I think we both kind of assumed that we’d get together casually when I was next single. Next single was Friday night. Perfect scenario right? WRONG.

I used him to get photos of me ‘moving on and getting over Ben’ onto Facebook for the world to see. But as with most things planned with love life in mind, it didn’t go as I’d planned.

The pictures are up, and I still haven’t heard from Ben before or after Friday. Maybe I should just stop caring about him. He probably doesn’t even look at my Facebook anyway. He’s probably just getting on with his life. And yes I do realise how sad everything up to here sounds. I know I'm pathetic, but what else is there to do? Anyway back to Mark...

I got with Mark a few times during the evening and it was nice, I think most people who know us as close friends wanted us to get together, especially Frog who acquired him as a Fuck It Target for that evening. I was pleasantly surprised that he was quite a good kisser…

Right so yeah just before Mark had to leave, we were sat on our own and he grabbed my hand in a kind of ‘I really like you and it’s not just the alcohol’ way. And then he had to leave, saying “I really don’t want to go” over and over again in between kissing me goodbye. It was nice, but I wasn’t smiling or particularly happy for some reason. And when he left, and I was sat there on my own, whilst everyone was dancing and drunk and merry; it hit me. I wished he was Ben. Then I did a thing I'm so ashamed of and vowed I would never do: I became the sad girl at the party. I went into the loos, locked myself in a cubicle, and cried. Well, when I say cried; I mean like one or two tears, not sobbing. But I guess no matter how many tears there were with me in that cubicle; I’m not as over Ben as I thought I was.

By Saturday afternoon the sneaky snaps were up; and I began to feel really guilty. I exploited the fact that Mark really liked me to get pictures of me moving on for Ben to stumble across. What’s wrong with me? Instead of getting what I wanted. I ended up hiding in the girl’s loos crying about a guy I was trying to show the world that I was getting over, I like Mark, he’s sweet and pretty and sarcastic as hell… and I used him. And now have to deal with everyone thinking were actually getting together rather than just getting off. What is actually wrong with me?

Let me know if you figure it out.

xAx

Do whatever the Fuck you want

I still haven’t heard from Ben (prick), and my sudden lack of ball and chain has led me to believe that I can do whatever the hell I want. Right?

Fuck It Month: the cornerstone in every rebound turnover period. Now this is not just a reason for me to be a total slag, Fuck It Month is a way of life. A month of forgetting consequences. It just so happens that most people see those consequences as STI’s, pregnancy, reputation, cheating… BUT THAT IS NOT MY FAULT. I’m a good Fuck It girl, I only snog. To avoid awkwardness. And diseases.

I will be forcing myself into singularity on Friday night, but sadly not at a Fresher’s Week with Joe and Kat and a bunch of strangers drinking into the night and then chundering everywaaaar; but at a friend’s 18th birthday party at the local social club and stomach pump hangout. The home of debauchery, desperation and short cut dresses. Where the life is sucked out of you if you are not completely and utterly fuelled by the insanely expensive inebriation petrol.

But all’s well. I’m coping. Better than I thought actually. I think knowing my relationship was going to end has caused my subconscious to have secretly gotten over a large majority Ben without me even knowing, good going babe.

So yes, Fuck It Month. Myself and fellow Fuck Iters have found from our previous experiences that to achieve a successful Fuck It Month it’s handy to have a Fuck It companion, lots of alcohol and targets.

My companion: my very good friend (and newly knowledgeable of the condition) Frog. Ok her name’s Charlotte, but she’s called Frog. It’s a long story but it’s just easier this way k?

My targets: be patient, I’ve got until Friday.

Common etiquette for Fuck It Month is for your Fuck It Month companion to suggest your targets for you. I think Frog has a few in mind, but I’ll get back to you about that.

TA TA

xAx

Working on my backwards walk.

As I’m sat here writing this I feel very little. I don’t feel sad that a huge part of my life is over. I don’t feel relieved that all the pain, confusion and heartache is over.

I do however feel scared. Terrified in fact.

Every time I give in and think about Ben I just become overwhelmingly scared that vaginismus is going to stop me from moving on. Like from now on my love life is just going to be some backwards walk because I’ll always be thinking ‘what if people find out the thing I’ve spent two years hiding?’.

I feel abandoned by Ben. And jealous that I can’t just up and leave this fucking curse behind like he can. On our last night together I gave in to my stupid thoughts, I asked him if he thought it would be a bad idea to casually see each other when he comes back. Here’s how this conversation went:

“so you say you’re never going to have sex ever again?”

“If i can help it, what’s the point if there’s the risk of people finding out about it… then no one will want to have sex with me anyway... what’s going to happen between us when you come back?”

“I’m not going to be back for a long time ya know, like... December.”

Long, long pause.

“well what would you say to seeing each other when you get back?”

“I don’t know, wouldn’t that be just really weird and a bit… awkward?”

“oh… ok, don’t worry, forget I said anything about it.”

“well I’m not saying no.”

Relieved and slightly embarrassed laugh.

“I glad you’re not saying no”.

So yeah, that’s all I can remember of that really. I waved him off Saturday morning, which was horrible. As he left he said he’d text me Saturday evening once he’d settled in.

He didn’t.

I don’t know what’s going to happen in December, but I doubt it’s going to be any sort of magical reunion like in the excessive amounts of American dramas that I watch to avoid dealing with my own issues.

So on second thought, I’m still not feeling much; but I’m thinking a lot. About everything.

I might be going to visit Joe during his Fresher’s Week next Friday with Kat. I think a one week rebound turnover is respectableish and if I end up in a scenario in which I attempt drunk sex with a horny Fresher… at least I can blame it on the alcohol and then leave promptly in the morning.

More to come soon I'm sure.

xAx