I posted one of my standard introspective posts where in the first part, I talked about how I was going back and looking to my past just trying to sort things out. Were there some hidden, blocked out memories that made me the type of sexual person I am? I still don't know the answer to that but frankly, I doubt it.
In the second part of the post, after just explaining how I recognized that I had some issues with not only filtering myself - those honest thoughts in my head that are suddenly verbalized to people I shouldn't verbalize them to - I explained that, whoops, I did it again. I wrote about a conversation with the lady I call, The Intern. If you missed that post, it isn't important.
I've had a lot of you who work in the professional white collar world caution me, either in comments or via private e-mails, telling me I'm going to be in a world of hurt when some colleague comes back to claim I've harassed them in some way. I appreciate the concern. I really do. And it is good advice.
What I got this time was an e-mail from the guy I refer to as The Internet Therapist. He and I had been e-mailing back and forth for a week about several topics and frankly, it started to go south. When he read that last post and the flip in the middle of it where after all the self-reflecting and such, only to let my dick do the talking in a potentially controlling and manipulative way, he said he was done with me. He couldn't continue to read the blog and he really hoped that I would seek some professional help. I'm not going to lie. That coming from a person I don't really know but deeply respect was extremely painful. Painful and embarrassing.
There are so many aspects of my life that I have lived, hidden from public view, known by a lot of strangers but by very few actual in-person acquaintances. I've made peace with what will happen when I am the object of my very much unwanted fifteen minutes of fame or infamy. My decision is not to deny it, not to hide from it, and to own it. But that choice doesn't mean it will be easy when it happens, and I certainly won't go looking for it. I tell you this because in spite of that crushing feeling I felt last month or whenever it was, I think for me, I get more from writing about these aspects of my hidden life, than I do simply keeping it all in. And that is why, with encouragement from many of you, I'm trying this again.
I've downloaded a handful of different podcasts featuring Dr. David J. Ley as the guest. He is the sexologist who wrote the book, Insatiable Wives and a few other books that I've found interesting. What I've learned is that, I'm not abnormal. I'm not going to try to recap every nugget of wisdom this guy has thrown out to convince me I'm okay, but on the other hand, I'm not giving myself a clean slate or some mental health seal of approval. I'm only saying that there are lots of other men who could make a check mark in almost all of the same naughty sexual blocks that I tick off, and the only difference is, they don't vomit it all out onto a blog post every few days.
I doubt my Internet Therapist will read this, but I appreciated his e-mails immensely and I hope he enjoyed at least some of the interaction.
I'm in a new position at work that increases my workload and reduces my free time. On the other hand, Co-Worker H and I are working a little closer together. Office BJ's to follow, I'm sure. I only tell you this to both brag and say that I have no idea how rapidly my next post will come, but I'm sure I'll be working on it as I can.
Mrs. JFB and our buddy JD are doing just fine, thanks. I'm sure I'll have some news forthcoming.