11 thoughts on “When You’re A Burned-Out And Depressed Ex-Slut Who Wants To Write A Book

  • November 3, 2016 at 10:43 pm

    I too feel like you do and have written a few books in distressful times in my life!! You are so right that after thirty us as women seem to go unnoticed and lack in the sex department!! I’m in a long distance relationship and suffer from bipolar disorder but as hot as many men may find me have a low self esteem from things that have happened in my past. I just joined this site and am encouraged to see a post like this!! I tend to over analyze many situations but I feel that I have come a long way from where I was before!! My concern is that I’m losing interest in sex all together even when it comes to myself. Don’t know if this is because of my medications or weight gain lately but feel like I must do something about it!! My past doesn’t depict who I am now as I am a mother now and my priorities are with my child but when I’m alone I tend to isolate and withdrawal from ordinary functions!! Not really asking for advice but in a way I am!! The writer and author in me tells me to write about it but what’s the point if no ones going to read it and I keep it to myself!! Anyways just curious to how you deal with it and if this forum will really be helpful in accomplishing a more positive look on life??

    • November 4, 2016 at 3:55 am

      Is it really that immediate? Before 30= hot, after 30= not hot? Christ, why live?

      PsychCentral is all about healing. In all honesty I’m not the person to ask about a positive look on life, although I do think writing is always worth the trouble. Even if it is just for you. It’s how we sort things out in our heads. Keep going!

  • November 4, 2016 at 1:36 am

    Dear Bad Girl,
    Don’t despair. You have tremendous gifts, many of which are just waiting for you to realize and tap into them. Granted, life before thirty-something, before settling into a Relationship, is a lot of fun. A LOT of fun. And putting whatever substance you want to into your body is also fun (I preferred acid, especially during my mid-twenties). And fucking whomever you happen to decide on at any given moment is delicious. And it’s true, there’s less of that as you get older, although for a confident woman of any age, monogamy is always her choice. There will NEVER come a time when you can’t have whatever man you want. The only shitty thing is, or maybe it’s not so shitty: you won’t care about sex very much anymore. Plus you start losing all the energy and stamina you had when you were younger.
    But other things happen. You start to get more respect from other people. Maybe you get married, which could be fun (I’ve been engaged for nine years, and I’m in no hurry for a wedding). Maybe you have kids. Maybe you don’t (I can’t, and it’s really not something I miss except that I didn’t accomplish my one biological purpose in life). But every second of life, even the boring ones, even the ones you think will kill you, are all part of your adventure on earth. At least this time around. I have no idea what comes after death, but it could be non-existence in any form. So every second we have here is sacred.
    In April of this year, my birth father died. He was 59. I had just left him a message to call me. I didn’t know him well and wanted to bond with him some more. The most I’d gotten to know him was when I quit drinking; for the first couple of weeks he called me every day and we just talked, about everything. It was precious to me, even though physically I felt like I’d been pounded by six gorillas. I wanted more.
    The whole thing was horrific. His wife doesn’t like me, so she discouraged me from coming to the hospital and from going to the funeral. My support system – my sisters, my aunts, even my mother – basically left me alone…didn’t call, send a card…nothing. I spent two months in the hospital psych ward because I was suicidal. When I was home I did nothing but lay on the couch and cry.
    I’m not comparing our situations. But my fiancé was there for me the whole time and continues to be amazingly supportive. Its the first time (and we’ve been together for ten years!) that I realized one of the best things about having “settled down” with one person (I had never done it before). He took care of me and loved me and had my back that whole time, & he still does. It makes settling down fifty bazillion times better than one night stands (or even sort of ongoing affairs. Which can also be nice).
    You’re a writer. So am I. I mostly write essays. But I wasn’t writing. Like I said, I wasn’t doing anything but crying on the couch. I still sit on the couch most of the day. But I’m easing myself back into the practice of writing. Every day, I check my email for people (mostly politicians) who are soliciting money from me because I got on a list when I contributed like $10 to Bernie’s campaign (I got the Birdie sticker for it. Politicians need to give out more limited-edition prizes). Then I hit Reply and send an email back to said politician, explaining how poor I am, or that they shouldn’t try to get money from someone they just got off a list from some other political idiot, or I advise them to try for a SuperPAC or something similar. It’s slowly getting me back in my game, although if I write to Obama much more I may get arrested.
    I read your blog post. You’re really talented. Except for the comment about being chunky. Everyone is mind-bogglingly, ecstatically gorgeous and bizarrely funny-looking at the same time. I mean, who thought up the noses for humans? They’re so SMALL!
    But appendages aside (assuming that the nose is an appendage), you are, like all the other residents of this and any planet, fantastically beautiful. Your body is beautiful. Size has nothing to do with anything. And your writing is clear, and full of passion. No matter what venue you use, keep writing. I’m 42 now, and life continues to be a huge ride. I admit that I haven’t felt joy in a very long time. But I have before, and I will again. Just yesterday I cleaned off my kitchen cupboard, and I haven’t done that since April.

    • November 4, 2016 at 4:00 am

      Thanks Aud! You’re a pretty good writer yourself!

  • November 4, 2016 at 8:13 am

    My dear, believe it if not you are still a baby…so much life to live!
    Take it from this 51 yr old who is having way more fun now than I ever did at 30. And for the record, I too have seen and done it ALL; hell, I’m still doing it! It’s all about attitude and confidence. If you think it’s all down hill after 30, it will be! I might be a little unorthodox in how I live my life compared to some of my friends who just ‘gave up’ on life and gave up on themselves. Heres a snap shot of my last year: went to several concerts in several parts of the US; had a few affairs (yep, I sad it, and don’t regret a thing), a few girls weekends and a few family vacations. I have a great job, take care of myself and feel like I’m 25. The bonus is at 51, I now command respect and have tons of confidence which is a huge part of my sex appeal to men. Trust me, ithe fun doesn’t end just because you age…

    • November 4, 2016 at 2:05 pm

      Lol thanks! That makes me feel better too!

  • November 5, 2016 at 2:13 pm

    Turning 30 was pretty traumatic for me for some reason. Part of it was I was unemployed and going through a particularly difficult time in my life. Turning 40 and 50 were less traumatic, because life had gotten a bit better for me by then. I was doing medical transcription and making a not too bad living, though subsidized by my folks. Turning 60 (after i’d retired) was not so much traumatic but just a realization that all bets were off so to speak, of being successful at any endeavor or being able to obtain a young (comparatively), attractive girlfriend.

    Not many people younger than 30 are successful as writer’s. Usually it happens when you’re after 30 as it takes some years to perfect the craft. Of course there are notable exceptions such as S.E. Hinton who wrote “the outsiders” in her teens.

    From my point of view, you’re still young and have time to have some success in your endeavors. Of course, having an ASD presents it challenges and may for the remainder of your life, even when you’re older.

    • November 5, 2016 at 3:57 pm

      Thanks. I keep telling myself about the writing bit. Makes me feel more useful.

    • November 9, 2016 at 4:00 pm

      That’s patently untrue. Most writers aren’t successful until AFTER thirty, and most successful (or less so) writers can keep going on until their brains are more or less Swiss cheese. The stuffy you write now will probably look like blogschplotter to you in ten years’ time. Or maybe not. Wtf do I know? All I know is, just like with other forms of artistic expression, you can physically do anything and still be a writer. You can be waiting tables and inside you, waiting to come out, will be a writer. No matter what you do, you will never lose your inner narrative. I advise against settling into something very permanent like…ceo of google unless you love it as much as you love writing. And even then, write a book or at least a blog about your experiences.
      Remember the words of Ellen DeGeneres (not sure I spelled that right) when she came up against obstacles that might’ve made her otherwise give up: “just keep swimming; just keep swimming.” Write. Until global warming covers the Earth with ocean and we all become magical rainbow dolphins, who physically CAN’T write. Just write.

      • November 9, 2016 at 7:44 pm

        🙂 Thanks for coming back, Aud! I know you’re right about writers. It seems like most people’s breakthroughs are somewhere between 28 and 35 if you look at the charts. But we’ve seen plenty of writers emerge in their 40s and even 50s, including people like Bukowski who still resonated tremendously with youth.

        I think writing takes a broad concern about the world’s future that most people don’t develop until around thirty. Twentysomethings are energetic & funny, but their work is shallow. I should know. I ran a site that made fun of all the crazy people I had sex with. It was funny as hell.

  • May 9, 2018 at 1:13 pm

    I feel you. 30 is a little ways off for me (I’m turning 26 next week), but time passes so quickly and it’s got me down. I’m aspie too, and as a result haven’t had the chance to live a normal 20-something life. I can’t support myself, so it’s either depending on parents or boyfriend, or current both. I don’t have friends. I hate my part time job. I never go out. I want to write or something but don’t have the talent or motivation. I have no desire to get married or have kids anymore, but I need to get married because I can’t fully support myself. I have been with my boyfriend/fiancé for 7 years and love him but don’t know if I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to date other people and experience more life before making that commitment, but it also may very well be my only chance. Everyone my age where I live is married with two kids. I’m way behind, and my boyfriend has been incredibly patient but I know he’s getting annoyed. I feel guilty as fuck but don’t know what to do. Every year is just a little more lost hope, lost possibilities.

    I don’t know why I’m commenting on this old post, just need to vent.


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