I’m a sucker for good stationery, and that extends to diaries. I used to keep a journal – a paper one, not this newfangled invention of modern technology I’m using now – and did so for three years before largely migrating over to LiveJournal. I don’t have the patience to do so now, but I do have a diary – one for appointments and reminders to pay rent and so forth. I never really thought I’d need one, but here I am, organising my life in a little book. This must be what being an adult is like.
This isn’t the first time I’ve referred back to my diary. My last few spam content posts orgasm counts have all been obtained by looking through it and deciphering the increasingly complicated shorthand I’ve managed to develop, in case my mum starts reading it and somehow works out what the little stars mean.
This is assuming that she overlooks the event I’ve been referring to as ‘con being written out in full as “EROTICON!” in red pen. But there we go.
For the last few days, though, there is a new mark.
I have, effectively, taken a stay of execution from masturbation. This isn’t a strange, quasi-religious judgy NoFap thing, nor is it a sudden volte-face into someone who hates masturbating (I love it – and we all know I do); it isn’t even a “just to see if I can do it” self-denial challenge like Lightsinthesky did in year 12 (although I’m using the same diary mark as he did – NJO – although not in a homework planner, obviously). None of that.
No.
The reason is that, after my last orgasm (which was now over a week ago and counting), I felt a little wrecked. It was beginning to take longer and longer to climax than I remember; I’d also noticed that there had been a decrease in things to which I’ve been used – like morning wood (or wet dreams, but then I never have those in any case) – whereas the ILB of a few years ago was very sexually healthy. Go back a decade and I was channeling Priapus.
Coming to the gradual realisation that I may have been suffering from “iron fist” (if that exists… but I’m fairly certain it may, given my sporadic inability to come during partnered sex), and even seeing masturbation as something of a chore (as which it should never be seen!), I decided to… well… to stop. Not that I have an end goal in mind, really – I haven’t set a date or anything, and I’m not really sexually active with anyone right now so this isn’t really to improve sex – but working on more of a vague idea:
“If I’m really horny and want an orgasm, then I’ll masturbate, but I won’t do it just because I think I ought to. Even if I’m just moderately horny.”
Sounds weird when I write it down. But then I only just came up with that, so.
I mean, I haven’t actually been horny for the past week, but I’m kind of hoping that a wank break might help bring my horny back too. (Of course, if it does, this will become more of a challenge. It isn’t a challenge right now – it just tends to give me blank periods during the day where I wonder what else I’d be doing!)
So yeah. That’s literally the most exciting thing I’m doing right now. And if you’re really lucky, I’ll let you know how amazing my next orgasm is, having not done so for however long beforehand.
If you’re really, really lucky, I won’t.
Breaking habits is so tough, and I think it’s pretty switched on of you to identify that wanking has maybe become a habit. Something’s going to tip you over into starting again, but it’s going to be because it’s *intolerably hot,* rather than because your bored. That’s fun! Definitely something to look forward to.
Yes, I agree, actually!
I’m waiting for that intolerably hot thing, but to be fair, if and/or when that happens, it’s as good a reason as ever to start again. Probably the best, to be honest.
And now I want to see what that is!