
Loss & Libido
My dad died recently. It has been monumentally hard. I am grieving the loss of the single most complex relationship of my lifetime and the pain is unreal. It is the heaviest weight to carry, and yet it comes and goes like smoke. Not surprisingly, this seeps into every part of life. Socially, I’m worse than normal, more of a hermit, less likely to reply when prompted. Work is a challenge because I can’t focus like I need too, and everything feels so hollow, I have to work much harder at following through. And sexually … ugh. ‘Unavailable’ would be a good way to put it. But so would ‘murderously horny’. So would ‘utterly unpredictable and volatile’. I’m all over the shop, my libido is doing back flips one minute, and replaced by the proverbial tumble weed blowing by, the next. I get it: I’m a bit messed up right now and both my brain and my body are reeling, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the associated guilt and the shame.
Death is only hard on the living
If you have ever lost someone, you may be familiar with the guilt of existing that plagues so many people as they wander through grief. “How dare I have fun! How can I be laughing at a moment like this? I’m so selfish for even being alive!” There’s always that moment, the first time you laugh after the news of their death, or when you realise you temporarily forgot they were gone. The rush of grief and guilt can hit hard and fast but it’s something that we know will happen, it makes sense and it feels like part of the process.
But what about the guilt around pleasure during loss and grief? That’s not something anyone talks about. No one sits you down and says, “Listen, you’re going to endure loss, you will lose people and it’s going to fuck you up. Everything will feel bad, including feeling good, but you have to push through it. You have to keep living your life.” Even though it’s never going to be quite the same, even though you feel like you shouldn’t laugh or smile or cum again, you must. You must do these things and learn to live with how they feel.
Don’t feel sorry for existing
I find myself apologising a lot as I grieve, more so than I already do re: mental illness. I’m sorry for being a downer, I’m sorry for not being more present, I’m sorry that everything feels so messy and disconnected, myself included. The biggest sorry that I seem to be regularly feeling is sorry that I’m so checked out sexually. My partners have been absolute gems about all of it. No one is complaining, no one is griping about their own libido (which they are all quietly managing in the background) and no one is adding any pressure or input. The pressure I feel is self-inflicted and fueled entirely by guilt that I’m not showing up for them.
No vulnerability to spare
When you are hurting, it can be hard to subject yourself to things that may make you feel vulnerable. Right now I don’t even want to see a sad movie, I am avoiding anything in my path that will rattle me or make me feel vulnerable in any way. That’s part of the libido flip-flop. Sex isn’t always vulnerable, but it can be. The rushes of endorphins can come with significant emotional expression, and we all know the cathartic power of an orgasm. Just thinking about engaging in anything that takes that kind of focus and abandon makes me want to shut down. And yet, in the wake of tremendous loss, the pull towards pleasure is still there. And don’t for a second think that it is lost on me that it’s weird to be discussing sex and desire in the same breath as my dad’s death. Trust me, it’s weird for me too. But it’s not about him, it’s about the gravity of loss and how much it is both necessary and completely inconvenient.
The push and pull of want and need
My body wants to feel good, but my mind is too occupied with this state of grief. It feels like what I want and what I need are at odds, and all attempts at resolution leave me guilt-ridden. Where is this mystical ‘balance’ between life-must-go-on and being present in your grief? Ignoring the heaviness of loss is futile, yet giving into pleasure feels wrong. What has been so disconcerting is just how uncomfortable this whole mental space is. I have never really experienced a sexual dysfunction like this and it’s very frustrating. I just want to feel ‘normal’, even in the smallest way, and the most ‘normal’ thing I can do is suddenly so complex and emotionally charged.
Moving Forward
“Time heals all wounds” is never more true than when you’re grieving. Giving yourself grace and allowing yourself to experience the discomfort of grief is the surest path through the emotions. Resisting, denying, or ignoring grief will only cause it to crop up later in life. It’s an unfortunate reality, but it is possible to overcome and in time, pleasure, joy – and your libido – will return.