Award of Valor: For Reading the Word “Vagina” 37 Times (Part V)
Posted by Moose on December 11th, 2007. Filed under: My Brain Needs a Drink.My always keen avoidance techniques are acquiring a new sheen. Not unlike a classic Porsche owned by a 55-year-old man who breathes on the rear fender before buffing it with a clean diaper. I’m avoiding like mad, y’all. I have designated this post in the Broken Vagina series the emotional one. But I’m not very good with emotions. I prefer to make jokes and repress. Unfortunately, there really isn’t anything funny about a malfunctioning groin. (All right, the electric vagina wand is a little funny.)
It’s painful, and not just because of the sensation I like to call “sawing blunt steak knife of perpetual doom”. It’s painful because you don’t know if you’ll ever have a normal sex life. Ever. All of humanity, most of the animal kingdom, and half the world’s flora get to have sex and you don’t. It breeds an ill-fitting aura of detachment.
Symptoms Of Disconnection From Your Fellow Man:
1. You reverse deeply held beliefs. Like the ones that state “kicking babies is not OK.” Because when that burbling cherub grows up? IT GETS TO HAVE SEX. That alone should atone for any bruises from an erring boot.
2. Hatred of lingerie models. (Please note: This one is not exclusive to the Broken Vagina.) Walking into Victoria’s Secret feels like walking into a cheese shop when you’re lactose intolerant and craving a nice grilled cheese. You can still wear a bra, but that lacy little black number? ISN’T DOING ANYONE ANY GOOD. Not even your boobs, because DAMN that lace is itchy.
3. Jealousy. You feel jealous of stupid people, of people with no moral compass, people who have swamp moss growing out of their ear canal, of men with really long fingernails who play Crazy Eights in their cousin’s basement – all because they get to have sex. You start wondering what you might trade for a decent sex life. 80 IQ points? Fingernail clippers? Basic human compassion? Because clearly they’re doing something right.
It’s painful because of what you go through, what your significant other goes through, what your general state of mind becomes. My state of mind was what most people would categorize as “witheringly depressed.” Or “pry your bare hand out of the cookie dough and wash your hair already, my god.” See, I can’t stop with the jokes. And I’m sure you noticed that I’m saying “you”. Not “I”. Detach, detach. Repress, repress. Everybody now!
Writing about that emotional place requires putting myself back into it. Even with a buffer zone three years long, I just can’t bring myself to do it. Seeing the humor is a blessing for me – and I don’t use the word “blessing” lightly. It’s like showing emotion in public, it makes me twitchy. That said, I hope I can share my experience in a way that doesn’t shriek “I am uncomfortable opening up emotionally, even though I’m quite happy to splash my crotch all over the internet.”
Maybe next week.
Those of you dealing with the sawing blunt steak knife of perpetual doom right now deserve a medal. Especially if you can laugh about it without the distance of a few years. If you can’t yet, don’t worry. When you’re presented with the electrical wand and realize that it’s Vagina’s First Treadmill, I dare you not to crack a smile.
It takes a person of unflagging spirit to deal with the unknown, especially when it’s connected to sex. And it takes folk of unflagging spirit to read about it. So to all of you who have made it this far, bravo. I symbolically present you with the Broken Vagina Award of Valor.
Related posts:
December 11th, 2007 at 10:48 pm
I do not know if I am worthy of such an award, for I am new around these here parts.
I applaud you for speaking so openly about your struggles. I have not had any vagina problems (apart from monstrous babies ripping mine to shreds), but I am sure there are women out there who need to hear that they are not alone.
Kudos to you for your honesty
December 12th, 2007 at 12:44 am
“Detach, detach. Repress, repress.” It’s like Lamaze for broken women parts. Brilliant!
Can my award of valor be a t-shirt? That just says: “Vagina, WTF?”
December 12th, 2007 at 9:23 am
I appreciate your willingness to share your circumstances. I love the humor, but I also appreciate your honesty and openness as a woman. I don’t have many girlfriends who would open up like that.
It’s affirming, in a way, to read your blog.
I have not had the unfortunate experience of a broken vagina, but if I ever do, I know who I can count on for support and levity.
December 12th, 2007 at 10:26 am
I NEVER thought I’d find myself praying for the healing of a vagina, but I am–I AM!! And for you, as well.
I cannot empathize, but I soitenly sympathize!
Thanks for the honesty, the humor, and the willingness to openly share.
December 12th, 2007 at 11:43 am
I’m torn (once again) between tearful sympathy and the desire to chuckle. Which is what I love about your posts, so thank you for reattaching and undepressing for us out here in blogville.
Seriously, any post that has a ‘steak knife of perpetual doom’ can win me over. I’m not going to be able to look at my cutlery all day now.
December 12th, 2007 at 4:42 pm
Kudos indeed.
December 12th, 2007 at 5:06 pm
I’m newish here but have been hoping you have/ had a happy ending soon. Pun intended.
December 12th, 2007 at 8:15 pm
I second the kudos!
December 12th, 2007 at 11:20 pm
I think you’re brave. I heart you!
(And your shoes.)
December 13th, 2007 at 4:02 pm
Oooh, I HATE that! Where I find myself jealous of stupid people, people who no one should be jealous of for any reason, because they get to have things (easily) that I can’t. It’s a special kind of loathing and deserves a special name. What shall we call it?
December 17th, 2007 at 6:27 pm
I third (fourth?) the kudos, Moose. You’re awesome for talking about this, and I’m so sorry you’re going through it.
February 17th, 2008 at 10:42 am
I only just came across your blog today and clicked on the “broken vagina” category b/c I’ve had a broken one for going on 7 years now: vulvodynia. Yup.
I want to let you know that it has gotten better and I can now have decent sex. It’s been so long since I’ve been “normal” that I don’t remember what it feels like to be 100% pain free, but I no longer cry myself to sleep at night thinking no one will ever love me.
The thing that helped me the most was physical therapy. Basically, you get your vagina massaged. Sounds humiliating, but it’s really not after all the other shit you go through just to get diagnosed.
Take care. I wish you health and happiness!!
June 26th, 2008 at 8:43 pm
Wow – I only just stumbled across your blog as a recommendation in my google reader and I don’t read any other broken vagina blogs! I too have a broken vagina. 2.5 years so far. Next step is the electric wand I believe. Anti-depressants didn’t work for me.
Thanks for sharing and I hope you continue on your path to get better. I think we all deserve to feel “normal” soon.