But for me, I was an average gay man "trudging the road of happy destiny" Oh God, just bring out the Rod McKuen books so we can " "Listen to the Warm". My sex life was adequate , and will not be revealed in this family friendly blog, loved the Lord, and was lukewarm about the gym. I was a busy, professional man with lots of friends with big hearts, and grand smiles and I started to get real angry.
Not type A angry, which I know all too well, but this overriding sense of doom, dread, worry, and being totally uncomfortable in my skin. This was a gradual slide, but for about 6 or 7 years, I noticed my zest for life diminished, and the passion I once embraced was dead. I even packed up my guitar, and stopped socializing, making excuses. The only passion that kept me going was in line skating because I loved the endorphin kick in and for that hour every day I kind of felt like the old me. And if you cut me off on the beltway, the fickle finger of fate was revealed enthusiastically. I hated the sound of the dishwasher...Crazy.
I was a very odd kid, precocious, but innocent at the same time. I worried about the Bay of Pigs," duck and tuck", injustices in the world, but kept lots of my kid angst to myself. I worried too much. I watched this series , The Medic" with Richard Boone, the first of the medical series, where the dramatic emphasis was the disease and the psychological results. This one episode had a woman who had to have a colostomy, and I remember to this day her screams. " I don't want to look like a freak, I can't have a colostomy and wear a bag" as Richard Boone comforted her stiffly. . After 2 nights of tossing and turning, I revealed to my parents, that I was worried about having to have a colostomy. I was 7. They listened, they comforted, and suggested that The Medic may not be age appropriate, but I watched. I also recognized at 7 years old that my worry had so much to do with selfishness, and the inability to get of my own head. I kept that information filed away.
Anxiety rapes you of your delight, sours you on other"s hopes, and claims and validates your fears. So about 3 years ago, I started having panic 24 hours a day, controlled, consistent panic and fear. Not panic attacks, but a kind of Generalized Anxiety Disorder, No phobias, agoraphobia or any of that, just so uncomfortable in my own skin. In line skating was the only thing that helped, and even then I was still anxious. My psychiatrist prescribed Celexa it was the proper choice because no more horrible anxiety within 2 days, but still fatigued, lost of interest, no passion, and watching lots of Bravo TV shows all weekend. I was so grateful the SSRI worked. But I knew something and that was that I was still in life trouble. So, I decided that I had to go to the gym, and maybe that would wake me up.
Right about this time, my PCP doctor Dr, Mark Lamos, the best, suggested that perhaps I was not crazy, but had low testosterone. I had the blood work and my level was 167 or something ridiculous. He prescribed Androgel, a name that is becoming familiar on TV, but that gel did nothing but raise my T level to 400, still not very high. I may have even felt a bit more even, but " My give a damn was still busted" We tried gel alternatives, Then I discovered Twitter and started looking for working out tips, and low T advice. A body builder named Kevin Levrone contacted me to suggest that I may be interested in Testosterone pellets, which are bioidenticals (* Testopel)_planted in your butt. I was desperate because I wanted to feel positive , have wild sex, and create passion again. Kevin, who I don't know well, is a man of great integrity, and I somehow trusted him from our first phone conversation. I took his advice and have been a patient at www.lifeforcemd.com for a year now.
Today, my Testosterone level is 1200, and I feel like me again. . I got my guitar out, have actually played for some folks ( country music) have become a gym fanatic, dating and got my sex mojo back,, and hanging out with the many woman I love, but don't have sex with. What can I say. And I just feel comfortable in my own skin. I wake up and feel like there is an adventure or that i have the potential to create a daring adventure. Men, get your t level checked. At 65, I do feel about 40 years old.. Life is good. I will be retiring in a year or two and I want to be in a spiritually, emotionally and physically ready to take that step to the last frontier.
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