second post following 4 months tapering off Clozaril, a psych med; and adding Elavil, a tricyclic anti-depressant.
In both high school and college I was unfortunately and somewhat unfairly, mistakenly, and erroneously accused of cheating on a boyfriend. And I didn’t realize any part of that until years later; even now.
In high school, I was at a school dance, Fall term, Sophomore year (coed boarding school in Connecticut) waiting for boyfriend Don to return from an away x-country meet. in the meantime, Jorge, who had graduated in the spring and gone to Columhia University in New York City, was visiting the campus. At graduation in the spring, I had run into him when nobody was around. He had kissed me. He had said, “we should have done this a long time ago.” I was thrilled, of course. But then it was over.
To make a long story short, Jorge came to collect me from the dance and I went with him. To begin a REALLY long story that’s not over, he found out that I was “cold.” I didn’t really understand at the time; just that it was frightening. Of course, I never saw Don again. Or Jorge. And as far as i remember i only had one boyfriend after that until senior year and it didnt work out well.
So, it wasnt really fair to say i was cheating because I had dilemma; a prior commitment; i was barely 15. Everyone liked my relatiobship with Don, I was quiet and he was being kind to me. He came from California and didnt mind my being British.
But i realize now that that was not what it was about. It wasnt about the cheating. It was about that i was cold.
So, fast forward to Harvard Freshman Year, my father had sexually abused me at New Years of that year and I went into a sexual vortex, immediately trying to lose my virginity. Of course, I was cold, and I didnt feel anything, and couldn’t have an orgasm. But what 18 year old man cares about that! I did fine at going through the motions and enjoyed the physical and emotional intimacy. And I did have some heat. It was just very hard to reach.
So i got through Harvard that way, legitimizing it through the steady relationship with my steady Manhattan boyfriend, a very dear man, who–like my future husband–wore contact lenses and without them he was so blind he couldnt see (as i remember.)
So, after we broke up, I became promiscuous, and I lost my way.
What had happened was that over the summer after sophomore year the Manhattan boyfriend and i were drifting apart, i went to my high school in Connectucut to stay in the Alunni House. I went there deliberately to have a sexual affair. I was thinking there would be a sports coach there, or something. That was bad. But it didn’t happen Something worse did. A certain person from my high school who was also at Harvard with me showed up; we were friends. He had gone looking for me in Summit, NJ, where my parents lived. I had had a close relationship with his senior year girlfriend when we were all seniors in high school. She was also going to college in the Boston area.
So, yes, I dragged him to bed with me at the alumni house. I shouldn’t have asked; he shouldnt have acquiesced. It fell into a crack between that highly renowned boarding school; and Harvard; who each of us were, differently, in those two very different places.
So, yes, I got blamed very badly during the messy breakup back at Harvard, Junior Year.
But what happened was a mistake. I dont mean like “i’m sorry, I made a mistake.” I mean, it was a simple error, a mix up, a logical error. One way to say it is that it didnt feel good, of course, i didnt have an orgasm, and i remember driving around The Lake the next day, trying to feel good; but i didn’t.
So, I went back up to college for the fall semester of Junior Year. Boyfriend calls up and says lets not see each other for a while, let’s get together and talk about it. So we went out to dinner. He confessed to seeing other women and over the sumner. I confessed about what had hapened in Connecticut.
Years later I learned that whats okay for the guy isnt necessarily okay for the girl. Boyfriend was enraged. Actually, I really COULDNT cheat on him. Because, contrary to what he thought, it wasnt all about the sex, it was all about the commitment, the safety. What had happened with the boarding school friend made me painfully aware of that.
This is so everybody involved can understand what was going on and we can all be healed from these ancient times during the COLD WAR that got left behind. Lives were ruined. Dozens, that I can think of. As for me, I was buried alive. I have lived to tell the tale.