This has been tearing me up inside for months now and I just have to get it out. I'm 39M and have been single most of my life. There are a lot of contributing factors there but for the sake of brevity I'll just admit that I am a stereotypical loser plagued by depression, social and generalized anxiety and a possible autism spectrum disorder. I gave up on dating in my mid 20's because the few dates I went on were so bad, and it felt impossible to find anyone who would bother with me.
Despite all that, last year I met a woman online who... convinced me to try again. It didn't work out with her, but then I joined some online dating sites and met someone else. Let me be clear here: I was feeling so lonely and desperate that I threw out ALL my standards and went along with the first woman who showed any interest. I realize in hindsight what a terrible idea that was, and that this is all my fault. This woman became my first girlfriend, but it was a very... one-sided arrangement. I've always been too much of a people-pleaser, and I took it to a new extreme with her: always buying her gifts, running errands for her, paying for EVERYTHING. It was... bad. But at the time I thought I was "in love." Hah!
What bothers me the most is the sex. To be fair, I've always had a high libido and I'm very liberal when it comes to sex so I was (too) eager to lose my virginity. She was VERY experienced and more than happy to take it. But after more than two decades of masturbating to porn, I never even considered the effect that my anxiety would have on the real thing, you know? Not to mention my trust issues, or the fact that I was trying so damned hard to convince myself that I was attracted to her when I really wasn't. Yes, I know I'm a terrible person. We tried like five times before we actually managed, and then it was just... bad. At first I figured it was just my lack of experience -- practice makes perfect? But after our first time, she explained to me in great detail just how unsatisfying it was for her. And in doing so, she confirmed a fear that has been festering in me since I was a kid: I have a small penis. I know that most men think they're small because they compare themselves to the monsters in porn. But I'm actually really small. She said she could barely even feel it. It didn't help that we're both morbidly obese, but still... The way she explained it cut to my core in a way that nothing else ever has. I was so horrified and embarrassed. And this despite the fact that I was very devoted to her pleasure every time we tried.
Understand that it's not the breakup that rips me to pieces inside; I actually felt more relieved than heartbroken when she dumped me, because I finally realized just how bad the whole situation was for me. It's what she said, and what she did to me. I feel like she completely obliterated what little self-esteem I managed to scrounge up to even get to the point where I felt like I could try dating again. She triggered so many of my old insecurities -- and then added new ones! And to top it all off... the whole fiasco made me genuinely wonder if I'm even capable of "loving" anyone; I don't think I am. I've been depressed for decades but this is on a whole other level. I don't sleep anymore. The anhedonia isn't going away. I don't want anything. I can't even masturbate like I used to... Just thinking about sex now takes my brain straight back to that tremendous embarrassment. I feel... ruined. Completely and thoroughly ruined, like there's no coming back from this. I just wish I could take it all back...
