Category Archives: orgasm

In the midst of the cacophony ghosts danced

I awoke this morning horny. I had been dreaming of ghosts. A large party that covered whole city blocks. It resembled the downtown Eastside of Vancouver. All the buildings appeared as they do today except the streets, the windows, sidewalks and air were filled with cars, horses, wagons and people of yesteryear, some centuries old. I was four or five floors up in a hotel. It happened to be clean and comfortable decorated with furniture from the turn of the century. I questioned the dark haired female ghost next to me

“How old are you?”
“292 years. I’m old” She smiled appearing no older than 29, “You?”

I couldn’t remember how old I was. My early thirties I suppose then I thought I was 32 and began wondering why 32 just didn’t seem to be the right age. She had read my thoughts and said out loud,

“You are young and still alive.”

I felt fear nagging behind meas being alive around these ghosts although jovial could mean trouble. I moved on through the room content to let fear follow. An orgy was in progress. This orgy was not just sex. It encompassed everything and anything that could make people (ghosts) laugh and feel pleasure. There were ghosts eating. There were ghosts tickling one and other. There were ghosts painting and taking their clothes off comparing their wounds to that which they were painting.

I remembered being alive. I knew I was not dead and peaked my head out the curtainless window down the length of the street below, witnessing the final cacophony of ghostial bestiality… then all was calm.

My surroundings morphed into a dank apartment. This was real. My surroundings didn’t smell. It was dirty, unkempt and all shades of brown in color. I felt happy. It felt familiar. I heard voices in the distance and recognized them. Andrea’s voice sung out. She had climaxed. She giggled. I set about doing the dishes but they had all been cleaned beforehand. I set about putting them all away. There were mountains of them and drying racks everywhere. The dish towels were gross. I tossed them *dans la poubelle quickly. There were five drawers in the kitchen. Four of the five contained one kind of cutlery, forks, spoons, small spoons and knives. The fifth contained a cutlery organizer. I got confused. I began laughing.

The sound of a man came into existence. Jean Paul Tremblay walked into the kitchen. A bed appeared in the corner. We sat and I began studying his penis for drawing purposes.

Curley…

I certainly woke **happy today.

This is the first dream I remember upon waking in which I was not using drugs, I was not running or trying to escape something or someone and not fearing for my life, nor was I screaming upon waking up.

I awoke having an orgasm. This is the first time that that has happened in years.

*in the garbage
**…and it all began from an eargasm. Go figure?

Female Hysteria – Aids that Every Woman Appreciates – reprint

Female Hysteria – Aids that Every Woman Appreciates was first published on June 8, 2006. Minor edits have been made in this reprint.

Hysteria - Jessica Doyle - 2006 - Ink on PaperEngrossed with hysteria I walked into my counselling session today. I travelled emotionally; climbing mountains reaching the peak only to leap off descending to the valley below. How is it possible for a person to cry, leave their body, and smile within a five minute time frame, all the while not knowing how she travelled from one emotional state to another.

I’m OK. It feels odd to actually state “I’m OK.” I neither understand nor remember the triggers of such outbursts. They come unbidden, uncontrolled and inadvertently end, leaving me to digest the days progression.

My councillor is a beautiful, wise and generous person. She knows my secrets. Are they secrets though? For her yes, I would say indeed they are secrets kept in confidence. For me, shedding secrets strengthens my being. I don’t need to hide. When I hide who I am I fill with fear which leads to anxiety which turns into the inability to make decisions leading to eventual hysteria. That word hysteria I looked up in the wiki simply because I have been feeling hysterical lately. They state:

Hysteria is a diagnostic label applied to a state of mind, one of unmanageable fear or emotional excesses. The fear is often centered on a body part, most often on an imagined problem with that body part (disease is a common complaint). People who are “hysterical” often lose self-control due to the overwhelming fear.

Damn they are good! And Damn I’m good for picking the proper word this evening to describe my consciousness. To take it a step farther I then looked up female hysteria. Having known some background on the subject through reading and discussion with others I believe that Damn, it is all too real today, for perhaps many women in some shape or form. Without release through orgasm everything just builds and builds and builds and then you essentially become an hysterical woman. During the earlier part of the 20th century Doctors were rubbing the clitoris of women sometimes for hours to bring on an orgasm, in effect relieving their Hysteria. This practice was a sanctioned medical procedure which lead to the popular invention of the electric vibrator. To my surprise the Sears, Roebuck and Company catalog from 1918 features a whole page devoted to:

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Aids That Every Woman Appreciates – click to see a larger copy of the ad to the left.

As the years progressed Female Hysteria vanished as a medical diagnosis.

Today different manifestations of hysteria is recognised amongst other things, schizophrenia, conversion disorder and anxiety attacks

Note the term anxiety attacks. That one really hit home with me. Today I spoke to my councillor about the lack of sex in my relationship with my boyfriend. She mentioned that sex is actually a good way to relieve anxiety and depression. I thought on this and tucked it away to the back of my mind ’til later this evening after Eric went to bed. Low and behold that theory holds true! One always hears about how men masturbate once or more times per day; women, you know… we could benefit from this stimulation to!

Today my talk with my councillor wasn’t just about sex. Sex was all but a small part of it. Sexuality, however, and the need to be able to express desire and pleasure freely has been difficult for me since I sobered up 10 months ago. Tonight, for the first time in a long time I felt secure in expressing these thoughts and ideas that I have been repressing. There is no shame in writing and/or expressing your femininity openly.

When an anxiety attack peaks it feels akin to an epiphany, an awakening…

The odd thing is, one does not truly appreciate how anxious one was before it peaks. It literally orgasms. Tears are shed. Pacing ensues. One wonders if one will die. Momentarily. Ya laugh. ha ha, only to cry again. ah ah. Physically moving breaks the attack.

What if the attack began a few weeks earlier. What if it built in strength herding ideas, vehimiently gathering stimuli. What if it lasts an average two weeks out of every month. What if one doesn’t care that it lasts two weeks. The upside of anger is this exactly.

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