Have your morals ever attempted to strangle your desires, or vice versa?

Like any normal person who has gone through puberty and survived (whether or not I am intact is for another time), I have a sex drive. It kicked in late, around the middle of my 18th year and was probably way-laid by severe depression, etc. While active afterwards, it suffered many attacks by depression and SSRIs (the irony, I tell you!).

In an effort to make me feel like the sexually mature person I am, I began taking Wellbutrin in early May under the auspices of my psychiatrist. Zap. This quickly corrected my aforementioned problems, but every solution creates new problems.

Towards the end of my time served in an Orthodox high school, I became disillusioned with the idea of waiting for marriage to have sex. First of all I couldn't (and still can't) imagine myself being married, let alone in a romantic relationship. Secondly, I wasn't waiting that long. For my whole life I had been surrounded by guys (and girls) who had bullied, teased, or ignored me (which also led to a general dislike of Jews my age, especially guys). Ergo, I had little factual base that 'my guy' would come around any time soon. After I got to college, I soon became more disillusioned by Jewish guys and decided to make the dating pool not exclusive to them.

However, I still clung to many ideals. I didn't want to give it up inebriated to Random Guy at Party or the first guy that showed interest. I had too much invested in myself for that and also knew that I deserved better. I wasn't flesh with a hole and I wasn't a JAP. There is a wide continuum in the attitudes of virgins and I fell somewhere inbetween.

There didn't have to be rose petals and candles or mushy frosted over scenes. In the course of my year and a quarter in college I managed to make two mistakes, the first of which was very bad and the second of which I have ambiguous feelings towards, which shaped my perspective and helped me garner new ideas on what I was looking for. There was also that crush, which was no help at all. During this time my libido was often weighed down by depression or mixed states and surfaced rarely, making the whole matter slightly more bearable.

I then left school and went home to hide away under dark sheets and hollow myself out with an apple corer of emotional sorts. As I put the implement down and started looking at the sunlight like a mole, I began to redevlop an interest in being myself. Hence the Wellbutrin.

Now I find myself in a quandary of sorts. I have a stronger sex drive, but no one to share it with and no desire to go out and advertise it publicly (see The Onion: "Jenna Bush's Federally Protected Wetlands Now Opened For Public Use"). Sex drive is good. I feel alive. I have motivation and ambition and zest. Still, it's like having a Porsche in the Gobi or making a hole in one alone on the golf course: you have something great, but no one with whom you can share it. The secret is wonderful. Could sharing it yield greater results?

Have you ever seen the picture of the heron swallowing the frog, but the frog is trying to strangle the heron simultaneously? What happens if they both die in the same instant?

/me shivers