We Try Harder

By Walter Armstrong

I originally thought of this blog entry as “Where, Oh Where, Did My Orgasm Go?” I had in mind a comic riff on that most notorious downside of antidepressants: sexual dysfunction (SD). I was going to regale you with anecdotes of my many frustrating, fumbling, ultimately heroic efforts to achieve sexual satisfaction against the seemingly insurmountable odds posed by the little green-and-yellow pill. I’m single and often solitary, by the way, so for this blog I’m going to talk about solitary sex.
Like the time I lay in bed for over an hour, sweating, swearing, starting, and stopping but refusing to yield in my bull-headed determination to reach orgasm. I was Sisyphus pushing the boulder of arousal up the hill—and not getting anywhere near the peak.
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