I probably shouldn't be blogging about this, but it ain't the first time I've gone personal. Maybe it will help me and/or you.

When I say no to sex I feel guilty. I am aware there is a book out there with a title almost the same--my mom had it, go figure. I'm not sure where I learned to have this reaction, either from an unrelated occurrence growing up or from my husband. It's my problem, but I think I learned it in my marriage. I had no sexual issue in childhood that I can remember. I was interested in sex with boyfriends but was consumed with my poor body image--nothing a little stimulation couldn't alleviate for a short time.

I am neurotic both by nature and nurture, which doesn't help any unless it is responsible for my damngoodinbedness when it does happen, which I doubt it is. I want IT about once or twice a week. Sex, not solo orgasm, does calm my mind and makes it so I don't hate myself and everybody else. I know when I am feeling bad, which is often, sex helps.

Yesterday, after my mom literally crying about her problems to me, my sister's and her visit for Dallas' birthday, my last minute shopping for Dallas, my eating cake and having a body image meltdown which sent me into eating when not hungry and having both a stomach and an ego ache, the wake, the second round of Dallas' birthday, and my Tuesday meeting, he tried to initiate sex ... or something, because he had no condoms, which I think he forgot until I said so along with no.

His offer was to pleasure me. I was, at this point in my full day of the free amusement park of life, very content to stare at a wall. I shunned him. Men think about sex a supposed HOW MANY times a day? (Does go to show men can do two things at once.) I think about sex the days I want it and get it. I don't think about sex most days. Do I have to think about sex to get it? Yes. The majority of the time. And it's sort of like, "Oh yeah, sex! I forgot about that!" Once I remember, however, we are in business.

I am ... not exactly allowed to say no, you see. No makes my husband feel rejected. When he feels rejected he forces consequences on me: he deprives me of my "relationship" with him. So, has tried to condition me to say yes. It has worked to the point of conjuring up guilt in me, which does nothing for my sexual libido, although I do like fucking him out of pent up aggression. Love and hate are borne from the same place and both require at least two people. Hate can become love, love can become hate.

So, maybe I feel guilty for not hating him enough to have sex with him yet. Give me a couple more days. Maybe I feed off bad feelings and thoughts as fuel for my orgasm--turn negatives into positives. This is not where I was going with this.

I feel bad for not wanting it. I feel bad for the lack of communication on both of our parts. He, in no mood to talk with my face lips, me, knowing this so not talking about it. I feel bad for not understanding this. I feel bad instead of good because I said no, and I'm not sure if it's because of our marital dance or because no sex makes me feel bad. It's ironic that Bad becomes Good after orgasm, almost like feeling bad is a necessity for "feeling bad."

Sex, then, provides the same satisfaction as the Catholic sacrament of confession, but is more efficient and effective. You share your negatives with another person and feel loved, forgiven, and positive. 12-step programs work this way as well. Sharing at a meeting is a form of "making love."

Hmm. Maybe I figured something out. When I feel bad or guilty I should smile and rub my hands together satisfied with the fruits of my evil plan. I'm not saying couples SHOULD make each other feel bad. I'm just working with what I have. My husband will attest to a life of feeling bad as a result of being sensitive to his dad's punishing him to make him good. Same thing my husband does to me. His dad raises good dogs, I will give him that. And my husband and I communicate well post-sex. There are benefits to saying yes.

My dad cheated on my mom. My understanding is that he was too shy to get the sex he wanted from her, just as he was too this or that to participate much in my sister's and my lives. My mom and he both have problems resulting from being raised in alcoholic homes. Neither even realizes this and both carry debilitating burdens.

My husband's addiction rocked our home. We were flirting with sadistic-masochistic roles but really love each other so didn't quite fit them. Besides that we both want to be the masochist. Any domination winds up being all in good fun. There's no hair pulling your cave woman along or anything.

I'm normal. I'm OK. My husband is lucky. I'm glad I wrote about this. I'm ... thinking about sex today.