Tuesday, 20 October 2020
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Sex & Love Advice

What Happens When You Stop Masturbating For A Month

What Happens When You Stop Masturbating For A Month

I masturbate almost every day. If I’m bored or feel the urge, I will do it a couple of times a day. I figure if masturbation is so healthy, then I’ll be damned if I’m going to deny myself a dose of healthiness. And yet, while I do masturbate regularly, there have been times in my life when I haven’t. Extended periods of time, to be exact.

On many of those occasions, it was because I was coming out of a relationship and orgasms were the furthest thing from my brain. Or because my depression flared up and, again, orgasms weren't exactly on the top of my to-do list; just getting through the day was hard enough. 

But there have also been times when I was completely in the right state of mind and abstained from masturbating anyway because of where I was physically — not emotionally. For example, at my parents’ house. I cannot masturbate at their house. I just can’t. I wouldn’t feel comfortable, for whatever reason, so I just don’t do it.

Where the problem lies is in the fact that I do spend a considerable amount of time there, in between my travels. If I sublet my apartment for six months while I go to Europe, but come back after five months, I hang out at mom and dad’s until my place is free again. It’s there, for a month — five weeks, six weeks, however long it ends up being — that I live a masturbation-free life. And boy oh boy, can I see and feel the difference when I don't masturbate for a month.

"Masturbation as a form of self-care is about breaking free from the taboos, taking risks, and learning to explore one’s body minus the constraints put on by society," Dr. Janet Brito, PhD, PSY, LCSW, CS, a psychologist and sex therapist, tells Bustle. Plus, it obviously just feels really good. "Afterwards," she says, "your body muscles will relax and you may feel a sense of bliss or pleasure."

Now think about taking that bliss out of your daily life for five weeks. Here’s what happens every time I abstain from a woman's best friend, beloved masturbation for an extended period of time.

 

Week One: 

The first week is always relatively easy, and whether or not I'm masturbating doesn't really cross my mind. While I’m aware that I haven’t done it on a mental level, physically I can’t really feel a difference.

I do spend some time wondering why I can’t bring myself to masturbate at my parents’ house though, especially since that’s where I masturbated for the very first time when I was teenager, but then I move on from analyzing that. I just accept that there are certain things I can no longer do in my parents’ home, and masturbation and sex are two of them.

 

Week Two:

Although I never think I'm going to get agitated from sexual frustration, it does happen. During week two, the slightest thing gets on my nerves. I’m also antsy — like I have an itch I need to scratch, but just can’t. In fact, it’s not just that I can’t scratch it, but it also feels like I’m not even sure where that itch is.

While I know what’s causing the agitated itchiness and can recognize how to remedy the “issue,” I still don’t masturbate (because I'm at my parents' house). Then I get angry at myself for not giving into the urge and slipping away somewhere private. Instead, I spend time wondering why I have this hangup, and getting even more annoyed at myself.

Also, I write about sex! I tell myself I should be able to masturbate whenever I need to, and be totally cool with it! Yea, there's a lot of mental chastising going on at this point.

 

Week Three:

By the third week, I'm finally at peace with the agitation, or, at the very least, accepting of it. But what the third week also offers is the best part of going a month without masturbation: a huge amount of creative energy. It’s during this week that I realize why some sports players say they don't have sex or masturbate before a big game — their pent up energy can be be applied to running fast, and winning on the field. 

For me, it all comes out in my writing. It’s during this week that I plan to write not just one book, but five books, and my mind goes a mile a minute as I write down ideas and chapters for this book or that book, and I come up with title for these chapters and books that I think are brilliant and poignant, and OMG I can’t stop writing! I’m a genius! I’m the greatest! They’re going to give me awards and medals! They’re going to change the name of the Empire State Building to Chatel Tower in my honor!

Needless to say this doesn’t last. And all those “great” ideas don’t seem all that impressive when I look back at them later. By the end of the week, the thought of sex or masturbating is pretty much gone. It’s like I’ve gotten into a pattern of not doing it, so why bother thinking about it?

 

Week Four:

It’s during week four that, without fail, I have an orgasm during a dream. If you’ve never had an orgasm in your dreams (I think this would qualify as a mental orgasm), here's what it's like: It wakes you up a bit, and you realize you’re having an orgasm without having to do anything.

For me, these wet dreams are never the result of a sex dream. Instead, they’re the result of dreams in which I’ve smelled something that turned me on and ended up causing an orgasm. I’m not sure what this means, the fact that my orgasm is brought on by a scent I can only smell in my dreams. But hey, who really cares if it’s a free, effortless orgasm?

Although I’ve experienced an orgasm during sleep, to me it doesn't really count as quenching the thirst, the way masturbating would. So, the fourth week is still one of high creativity, indifference to sex, and sometimes it even makes writing about sex seem silly, because the desire for it is non-existent.

 

Week Five:

By the time week five rolls around, I know I’ve come to the end of my rope. I know I’m just a day or two away from heading back to my apartment in the city, and I also know that despite having considered never masturbating again, for the sake of my art, it will be the first thing I do when I get home… and it always is.

I won’t even have unpacked before the vibrator, my favorite mode of masturbation, is in my hand and I’m making myself come. While in my daily masturbation, I usual practice edging as a way to make the orgasms stronger, my self-control is gone by this point and I just let the first orgasm that comes my way wash over me. Then I unpack and order pizza.

To be honest, five months without New York pizza is even more torturous than a month without masturbation.

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