I realized that wanting someone sexually is my favorite way to dissociate.  Dissociating is a way to take a break from reality.  Mostly because of anxiety and overwhelm, I need those breaks a lot.  Dissociating is one of my favorite coping strategies.  I talk about it in this post about driving.

how it feels

This is how it feels when I want to dissociate.  Something stressful or difficult happens: I was just social.  I just went through an intense experience, good or bad.  Maybe I had a painful fear, memory, or fantasy.

My mind needs to escape the pain or exhaustion–it wants to take a break, so it looks for something pleasurable to grasp onto.

A sexual fantasy is easy to grasp onto–going into that mentality, with desire in my body, is a great way to escape the real life in front of me.  So for a few seconds or a moment or two, I’m with a desired person in my imagination.  I imagine being penetrated, being held, being kissed, slurping someone’s dick, being treasured and safe with someone.  It can be my spouse, in my imagination, but the result can be quicker if it’s someone else.

These seconds or moments of break from reality can be so helpful, when I’m suffering.  Mentally I go elsewhere, do a pretend thing, and pop back into reality.  Chemically I suspect I’m getting a hit of oxytocin or some other happy chemical, to have this brief fantasy.  So the comfort is mental and also chemical, physical.

Some days, I do this often.  That’s why it’s helpful to have someone to think about in this way, a go to person to fantasize about.  Then dissociating is easy.

But of course that can have negative consequences for me, if I get fixated on someone who’s not appropriate, who doesn’t like me back very much, or who will take advantage of the unbalanced love to use me for all I’ll give.  That has definitely happened.


Anxiety was overwhelming me, and I decided to try cbd.  That’s weed chemicals but without the part that gets you high.  People use it medicinally–it’s helpful for many people, for many conditions.  It’s supposed to be anti-inflammatory, relaxing, pain relieving, and help with many disabilities.

I tried reducing my anxiety, reducing my stress, more peer counseling, building my resiliency… Nothing was helping me enough.  It was getting to the point that I considered going back on psych meds.

I researched cbd and decided I might as well try it.  If it worked I could do it on my own, without needing prescriptions or doctors appointments, which is appealing.  The more I can avoid doctors, the better for my health!

It’s so helpful!  I feel kinda like–why did I wait so long.  But I know why.  I come from a family of addicts and don’t want to replicate their errors.  No way in hell do I want to be like them.  I carry drug baggage.

But cbd is amazing.  That night terror left me.  My body remembered how to relax.  I no longer go to bed every night pretty sure I won’t wake up in the morning.  It’s amazing.  I don’t need it daily–I take one every three days.  It’s wonderful.


What’s a drug anyway?  Is love for my spouse a drug?  How about love for myself, or for my stuffed plushie toy Bunny?

What comforts you?  Is it a drug?  Can you get arrested for it?  I’m so tired of the power fuckery that means grown adults such as myself need to worry about shit like that.  If only we had a functional culture.  Laws feel so rudimentary, or just rude.

It reminds me of the pro-choice propaganda–if you can’t trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?  Hmm, good question.  How about–if you can’t trust me with a drug, how can you trust me with a vote?

If you can’t trust me with my own body, how can you trust me at all?  A previous bestie, imprisoned in a psych hospital, self-harmed with a straw.  Love will find a way, and so will all the strong emotions.


When I realized I’d stopped dissociating, I was amazed.  Wow, the cbd was treating my anxiety.  I no longer needed to fantasize to activate the self-made opioids of the reward pathway inside my own body.  Hmm.

Seemed creepy–it parallels the doctor argument: We need to medicate your “mental illnesses” so you can have a healthy life and be a productive person who doesn’t kill herself or kill others.  If I take cbd, I don’t need to love white guys who abuse me.

Wow, who knew.  Is it real, or is this just today’s perspective?

I’m so glad I’m brave enough to try different ways of healing myself, having a better life, and learning.  Thank you to Mother God for this bravery, and thank you to my spouse, that I have a stable enough life to risk experimentation.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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