Mirror Mirror on the Wall.... Am I Gay?

This post is by no means a bashing of the third sex. In fact, I have a lot of gay friends and love and respect them as my brothers. My topic today is about how I almost lost it when I could not find anyone to talk to about my 'hardship'.

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I have been reviewing my phone book of late, trying to guess which homie won't laugh too much when I tell him about how I couldn't get my tool up long enough to have normal sex.
I was still friends with my ex and she still visited a lot, but we were platonic, which was not really my choice. That week, I found that the worst part of having erection problems is: the more you can't do it, the more difficult it is to do it EVER.

That statement sounded so final, and even now, when I think of that exact time when I doubted everything about me that I knew then. Was I changing orientation? Was I losing it? Did I play bball too much that my real balls somehow dropped?

My internet visits weren't helpful, as all I read about were statistics of how many men under 25 showed symptoms of erectile dysfunction and how these could be symptoms of diseases with names I could not even pronounce. Another article said that the symptoms could be temporary, which gave me hope. And yet, another issue of a man's magazine told me that the ability to get a stiffy might not come back if the nerves are damaged due to physical stress. Then, I found one site that said the most scary thing... "you need to talk to a professional ... psychologist."

I never would have thought that an ED problem could be so complicated.




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Thoughts on Sexual Performance Dysfuction

Let me describe the stages I went through before I decided to seek treatment for my ED problem. The first thing I did when I noticed how I could not perform was to tell my friends, who took everything in jest. I don't really blame them. If another person told me that, and I did not take time to think that he could be serious, I'd be laughing too.

It took a few months of serious anxiety over sex per se before I finally sat down in front of my personal computer and typed in Erectile Dysfunction on the search bar. I did it in secret, while my girlfriend then was asleep on my bed, tired after a night of making love using her vibrator. I helped, of course, and it was still exciting seeing her enjoying everything I was doing to her. We call it extended foreplay, which was fine. However, my excuses for not being able to perform were running dry and I had to do some explaining before she assumes (again) that I have been seeing other women.

I had no history of accidents or concussion, which the bros at the frat house tell me are the factors that directly affect my schwing. It's not that I don't want sex, I do. If I have to be brutally honest about it, I want it so bad that I'd be willing to do it with the cross eyed librarian who touched my hand whenever I returned a book during senior year. But the reality is, it's difficult to concentrate on pleasure when you have a sinking feeling that your tool will fail you any time.

And so started my research on how to help myself. I'll tell you all about it next week so stay tuned.


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