According to political pundits, the American electorate gave Donald Trump 2.0 a mandate. Personally, I prefer women. Mind you…
The definition of the word “man” isn’t as rigid as it used be. But then, who is?
Not me on Vyvanse, Adderall’s kissing cousin. And so, yesterday, I stopped taking it. Hang on! Squirrel!
Gotta check-up on the outcry surrounding P’nut the squirrel’s euthanasia. An example of government over-reach to rival COVID’s “essential travel only” decree…
Where was I? More to the point, who am I? What was I like before I started taking meth-in-a-bottle?
After using 40 mgs. per day for over a year, it’s hard, uh, make that difficult to gauge the drug’s effect on my mood and productivity.
That kind of assessment requires considerable and exacting self-awareness. A facility Vyvanse terminates with extreme prejudice.
Make no mistake: this drug-induced inability to second-guess yourself is a feature, not a bug. Since starting my drug regimen, the black dog of depression stopped nipping at my heels.
Vyvanse silenced the little voice inside my head telling me that no matter what I did, no matter what I’m doing, it will never be good enough (thanks Mom). I still listened to the blues, but I didn’t get them.
Awesome! But.. the drug started dinging the “dating” part of my “mandate.”
Continuing ED
Can you say erectile dysfunction? Sure you can! It’s a phrase that brings to mind a badly made Lego castle, only it’s nowhere near as much fun.
WARNING! TMI time…
As I approach ejaculation, I lose my train of thought and derail. I mean deflate. Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.
The issue’s only recently reared its ugly head (so to speak).
Up until a few weeks ago, I’d come to terms with the idea/fact that I was out of the dating game. A realization befitting a 65-year-old twice-divorced mostly heterosexual male.
While Austin and Knoxville’s stunning local scenery made me feel like a kid in a candy store without any money, I’d reconciled myself to living the bachelor lifestyle.
In other words, this formerly relentless Lothario had made his sexual peace. I was totally on board with Alfred E. Neuman’s motto what me worry?
Love’s Labor Lost
And then I met someone. Someone amazing, astounding and somewhat age appropriate. And discovered that ED doesn’t mean the Education Department.
Well fuck. Or not.
Hence my willingness to risk depression and lose the productivity gains afforded by lisdexamfetamine. Not to mention the possibility of triggering existential angst.
The meth state has become my normal. Coming off Vyvanse raises the prospect of some profoundly negative mental shit (to use the technical term).
Cold turkey has proven cold comfort. Yesterday, I napped three times, for at least an hour per nap. I won’t say I was a zombie, but only because I’ve watched five episodes ofThe Walking Dead, and I know what happens to zombies.
Equally worrying, clean eating fell prey to large helpings of Sugar Sugar. The only thing more depressing than being depressed is being fat and depressed.
Wonderful!
According to my concierge Doc, taking daily Vyvanse is like binge watching reality TV. You build-up a tolerance. Necessitating higher doses — think more outrageous plot lines — to achieve the same effect.
Did I mention that I have herpes? Another recent discovery that throws more than a little cold water on the possibility of a healthy relationship with a loving member of the opposite sex, regardless of ejaculatory issues.
Negotiating what appears to be a lose - lose situation ain’t no party, nor no disco.
If anything gives me hope, it’s the fact that the woman in question has a kind heart. And my fervent belief in the Special Forces’ unofficial mantra: adapt, improvise, survive.
Whatever else you can say about President Donald Trump, the man knows how to do that. I reckon the mandate he received to govern is as much about the strength of his never-say-die character as it is about political policy.
I wonder what drugs he takes.
Whenever I worry about sexual performance, all I have to do is think about Hugh Hefner: he was almost totally blind at the end of his life because he had used so much Viagra, which has a side effect of making you go blind. As for women, I’ve never given up hope that the perfect woman is out there. The problem is, as Billy Joel once said, “she’s always a woman to me.” The basic female personality never changes. Or as James Thurber once said, there is a war of the sexes which never ends. But if you’re lucky you create a truce with one good female.
Wow, that was a brutally honest post. Kudos to you for opening up like that.
I assume you’ve tried different methods such as viagra, etc. Cock rings can be quite effective at maintaining an impressive erection.
Best of luck figuring this out.