To Make Love

As I read a blog post this morning it made me reflect on my experience on finding out what making love is about. What did it meant “To Make Love” was something I wondered. Even after losing my virginity I didn’t know.
I was 25 and still a virgin. Being with someone intimately was something I had desired for a long time. My ‘sexual’ curiosity was awaken early on in my life so I pretty much lived with this curiosity for a long time. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get anybody…that is precisely why I was still a virgin at 25; I didn’t just want to give that to anybody. I wanted that “Special Someone.” Also I had been raised to believe that I needed to wait until marriage…but marriage was something that I saw way far out in the future and I just couldn’t wait. I’ve never been good at waiting. With this said, I met ‘my first’ when I was 25. We had been dating for 2 months when it happened. We had made out but never gone all the way until that rainy night. We were in the back seat of my car when things started heating up. I was scared, nervous, excited, I was not sure if I should do it. Was that really how I wanted to lose my virginity? In the back seat of my car? Did I want to give that to him? I think that desire that I had had for a while now took over me that I didn’t care. It was there already so I decided to go for it. It all happened so quickly that when it was over I was asking myself – Is that all? Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? I remember thinking that maybe next time it would feel a lot different. Well that was not the case. We had a two year relationship and most of the time it was just ‘sex.’ It was just about him…about him being pleased. I started to believe that ‘making love’ was just that…having sex.
I had read books and articles about this so I knew there was more to it. I had seen films and knew there could be so much more ecstasy while doing ‘it’. I was not satisfied. Of course there were times when it felt great…but those times were just a few. Mostly it was just him going in, doing his thing, and that’s it. Were women just an object where men came to do their thing...and then just go like that?
It was not until I met ‘my love’ that I realized what love making was about. The very first time with him was so different…it was a different approach that he had towards me. He made me feel special and loved. He took time to caress me...whisper in my ear, touch my body, and run his fingers through my hair. He made sure I was comfortable and was careful in what he did. There was so much passion in just that…’My love’ made me feel wanted, but not just wanted for his own pleasure…but wanted for us both to be pleased. It didn’t just feel that we were having sex as it felt that we were creating music and all the notes flowed so smoothly and it ended on a high note. That feeling was what I had longed for. That was what love making was about…feeling that high peak of ecstasy, of desire, of passion…of LOVE.

My Relative's Diagnosis

Well as I said in my first blog I will be writing about things that I have experienced. I am not making any of this up. This is all part of my life and events that have occurred to me in the past or just recently. I know that some of these events have molded me to become who I am today.

It’s been a long week. A relative of mine had a crisis this week (well two weeks ago now since it took me a while to post this) and she has now been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I have heard about this but I don’t have all the details. Wow! How do you deal with something as this? First thing that comes to my mind is some psycho running around killing people. Sorry if I offend anyone, but maybe I have seen way too many movies. I guess these films did have an effect on me.

There she was that night the paramedics took her off to a facility for her to be evaluated. She was kicking and yelling before they arrived. The yelling was what was so scary. She was yelling as if something or someone was torturing her. I don’t think I will forget that because I had never encountered such thing before. I was scared. What was going on? I would be lying if I said that I was not glad that they took her. I felt safe as soon as she was out. She’s a relative and I love her, don’t get me wrong but I even wished that she would stay there for a while. I didn’t want to see her. I was afraid. Two days later we got a call saying she was going to be released from the mental facility she was at. Oh no!!! The thing I was dreading was happening now. She was going to be back and I was going to have to lock myself in my room at night. I lock myself every night anyways but now I felt that it was not good enough. Should I go out and buy a deadbolt? Yes, maybe that is exaggerating a bit. The doctors said that it was essential that she take her medication, otherwise these occurrences would take place again in the future. She hallucinates, feels persecuted, and believes people want to kill her. See she stopped her medication, which is what caused her to have this reoccurring episode of schizophrenia.

At this time I felt that I didn’t really want her living with us at home. No, we were not going to throw her out along with her family. We decided we would help her in obtaining some assistance from the programs that are around that help people diagnosed with this so she can get her own place and then her children (well they are no longer children as they are adults now) can watch over her. Maybe I am being selfish. I will try to help as much as I can but I no longer feel safe in my own house. What if she thinks we want to hurt her again and goes after us? What if something tragic happens? I can’t help these thoughts because I am scared. I was going to “Google” her diagnosis but I am not sure I want to know. I probably will research it just to know whether I am exaggerating about this whole situation. Maybe what I am feeling has to do with all those incidents that I have read and heard about on the news. Some of these people had a mental illness and because they stopped their medication, ran off to do something completely crazy. I sure don’t want to experience this. So I think that the sooner she finds her own place to move in her with family will be better.

Update: My relative is doing much better. I still don’t feel completely safe. She is acting normal, but I’m unsure how long it will last. I just don’t know when she will start yelling and kicking again.

Who Am I?

I wanted to begin writing about my life for a while now. I just don’t know where to start. I might just start by writing a little intro to my blog. From there I probably will be posting stuff about different events and experiences that have happened throughout my life. I have been feeling mad at the world. I was mad because things were not happening like I wanted them to be happening for me. What was I doing wrong? What was I saying wrong? What??? I didn’t know. I don’t know. I don’t like the feeling. I think I’m having a life crisis where I am trying to find out who I really am and what my purpose is. Ok, I just noticed that I am using so many “I’s” here. Yes, this is not all about me. I am not the center of all things. Things don’t always have to go the way I want them to go. People don’t need to be the way I want them to be. I know this. I want to accept this. I want to know who I really am. One of my problems has been the desire to please others, but have I been doing what I really want to do for myself? Have I made decisions that are good for me or have I made decisions that are good for others? I don’t know. I don’t know and that is my answer.