#vaginismus

to anyone that has any sort of pelvic floor dysfunction and feels burnt out and tired of trying treatments and what not, if you want to pause and take a break from all of that im here to tell you yes do it! i’ve been on a break for a couple of months now and im not ashamed to say it. i felt guilty at first because i felt like i was losing precious time but i then realized i wasn’t, i was just taking care of myself. do it for your mental health and don’t worry this isn’t a race its a whole process and journey that may take a long time so whenever you feel like you need to take a break do it no matter how long that break is, take your time you will be okay and trust that things will happen when they need to

having vulvodynia and vaginismus is crazy like it’s really just pussy out of order 24/7

the fact that there’s really no cure for vulvodynia

in a sex obsessed society having vulvodynia, vaginismus or any other sort of pelvic floor dysfunction is like a curse bc at the end of the day everything in one way or another seems to come back to sex and im just like well i can’t do that so what now

vulvodynia and vaginismus suck not only are they invisible burdens that barely anyone is aware of but it’s also so fucking embarrassing and humiliating like how am i supposed to tell people sorry my coochie is broken what the fuck

ya know one thing that i’m slowly accepting is that its ok for me to feel all this pain and it’s okay to be angry about it i shouldn’t expect myself to be happy about this. i don’t have to pretend. im allowing myself to feel all these things bc it’s all part of me

not to be a downer on my own self but i simply don’t see myself ever having a fulfilling relationship or wtv like hello how is someone gonna want to stay with me when i can’t have sex due to my vagina problems it’s just not realistic also not to mention all the other bagage i carry lol

the things pelvic floor dysfunction has done to my already none existing self-esteem… didn’t have one to begin with but somehow it tanked even lower i guess the impossible is always possible

sex do be kinda disgusting when you really think about it maybe the monks and the nuns did make some points after all

sometimes everything seems to be going just fine and then out of nowhere i remember i have pelvic floor dysfunction *sighs* yeah it fucking sucks lol

had to take a massive break from physio bc depression was just hitting hard and i felt like i was just gonna go crazy eventually but alas im back in business lets go! also to all my vagina owners out there don’t feel bad for putting off your physio exercises even if it’s for a really long time, doesn’t matter the reason, just put yourself first and do what is best for you in the moment. be patient and be kind to yourself, you deserve a break, you deserve some peace of mind. take care of yourself

damn people really be out here with normal functioning vaginas having regular painless sex

would literally rather throw myself off a cliff than to be touched by a person like no thank you stay away

my chronic pain has completely ruined even the idea of ever being intimate with someone i would literally rather die than to be touched i feel so unwanted yet i don’t even want to entertain the idea of someone liking me

the way so many doctors and medical professionals just don’t be giving a fuck about the patients

frustratedwaffle:

shisno:

supercrooks:

We all know what erectile dysfunction is but literally no one is ever taught what vaginismus is and it can cause people to feel extremely lost, broken, and cause people to take their own lives.

Raise. Awareness.

For the uninformed, vaginismus is when the vagina painfully tightens and spasms when faced with pressure, usually from anything trying to insert into the vagina. It’s the reason I can’t wear tampons, and why many people can’t have vaginal sex without severe pain.

There’s not a lot of treatments, and there isn’t a single one that is for vaginismus exclusively - they’re all medications or treatments to treat symptoms, but not the causes. In fact, for a long time doctors waved off vaginismus as a purely psychological disorder in cis women.

Seriously, this is so unaddressed and uncared for in medical circles. Please spread awareness, even if all it’s for is to let those who have it but don’t have a name for it finally be able to understand what’s happening to their bodies.

I’ve never even heard of this??

While I enjoyed keeping up with this blog in the past, all the wonderful people I met, I am in a very different place in my life now. I have different things going on, life has gotten busier. This is generally all good things, but it has left me with not much energy at the end of the day. This blog, as wonderful of a therapeutic tool it was for me and others, takes a lot of emotional energy that I just don’t have anymore. Each ask I get is….I just can’t anymore. I hope I don’t dissipoint people, I hope everyone understands.

If anyone who is 21+, both asexual and has vaginismus would like to take over what I had started here I will take inquiries, just submit to me why you would like to do this. The asks keep pouring in but I just can’t anymore, please don’t think I haven’t seen them. I am in a different place now but I want to keep what I have done online for people to see. If someone wants to pick up the torch from here let me know.

I hope people understand. I still am active on my artistic side blogs if you want to see me there, but understandibly it takes a lot less mental and emotional energy to do those. Soon we are going to start the huge step into foster parenting, we take our first class tomorrow! I might blog our journey with that, who knows.

I love all of you, I really do. This blog has lead me out of a dark place into one of better understanding of myself and the world around me. May it continue to do that for others as well.

Pairing:Dean x Reader

Word Count:1992

Warnings:smut adjacent scene, medium angst, mild language, discussion about vaginismus

N/A:Request: “A while ago I read a story where the girl had something called vaginismus and the story is how I found out I had it. Anyway I have looked everywhere and have only been able to find that one, it’s a big part of my life and keeps me single for the most part and I would really love a fanfic where Dean’s girlfriend has it and doesn’t tell him, super angsty, no smut, just him being upset that she hid it for months then fluff and he tells her it doesn’t bother him.” - @foxywritter101​

His hands are fire on your skin, pulling you closer to him with each kiss. His mouth leaves your lips, trails down your neck, and you let out a low moan and run your fingers through his hair, down his bare shoulders.

His hands leave your back, move to trace warm patterns into your sides, traveling lower and lower.

Everything inside of you immediately tenses up, and then your brain switches from pleasure to panic as his thumbs dip below the hemline of your shorts.

You try your best not to jerk back, try to gently pull away, to keep it lighthearted as you say, “Hey, it’s getting kind of late, Dean. I should probably turn in for the night.”

He clears his throat and leans back, two hands supporting his weight on the bed, hair sticking up in little tufts from where you’d pulled at it. “Um…okay?”

You slide off the mattress and onto the floor, brushing your hands down your clothes to smooth out all the wrinkles. “Yeah, so… I’m gonna just…” You back up towards the door, try to make it playful, flirty. “Gonna call it a night before we get too carried away.” You wink, shoot him finger guns. Why the actual living hell did you just shoot him finger guns?

“You can stay here tonight,” Dean says, the look on his face reading both amusement and confusion. “If you want to.”

You force a smile to your face. “Maybe another night, Winchester. I’m beat.”

Your hand finds the doorknob, and you slip through with a quick “goodnight” thrown over your shoulder. Before the door closes, you hear him mutter-

“It’s always another night.”

And you hate yourself. You hate yourself for leaving him, for the feelings inside of you screaming at you to run away. But you hate the thought of what could have happened even more.

——————–

“Hey!” Dean pokes his head into the kitchen, scaring the living daylights out of you as you spit coffee back into your mug so you don’t choke on it.

“Oh, sorry. But hey, you feeling up for a drive this morning?”

Your eyes narrow at his tone of voice. “Um…why?”

He smiles and walks over to you, kisses the top of your head. “Just to get out for a while, maybe have some time to talk.”

To talk. That’s never good.

“Sure?”

He chuckles. “You sound so certain. If you don’t want to go-”

“No, no I want to go. It sounds fun.”

It doesn’t sound fun. It sounds like a trap. But you get changed into jeans and a warm sweater anyways and follow him out to the Impala.

——————–

Dean doesn’t waste much time once Baby’s wheels hit the backroads, the question rolling off his lips within minutes of departure.

“Y/N, is everything okay…with us?”

He’s holding your hand, so he has to notice the immediate dampness that overtakes your palm as nervous energy begins to course through your veins. He doesn’t say anything, though, just squeezes it tighter and waits for an answer.

“Why are you asking me that?”

You know why he’s asking.

His grip readjusts on the steering wheel. “I mean, last night. And last night wasn’t the first time, but it seems like whenever we’re, you know, getting close, it seems like you just…” He’s trying to find the right words, trying not to phrase it wrong. And you’re biting the inside of your cheek so hard you’re surprised it’s not bleeding.

“Do you find me…attractive? God, I hated that coming out of my mouth. But I’m just trying to figure out why…you know…why you don’t want to…” He lets go of your hand, wipes the residual sweat on his jeans before rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, if you don’t, that’s okay. I’d understand. People fall in and out of how they feel about each other all the time. I just-”

“Dean,” you interject, finally finding your voice, “it’s not that. I swear. You’re the man I want by my side, nobody else.”

He glances over at you, puts both hands on the wheel. “Then…what is it, Y/N? Because I don’t know what to do anymore, what you want anymore. And it’s damn confusing.”

‘Don’t tell him,’ your mind yells at you, ‘you’re going to ruin everything. He’s not going to want you anymore. No one wants you once they find out.’

“Y/N?”

You turn to look at him, the wrinkle lines in his forehead matching the worry in his voice. His eyes keep leaving the road to look at you, and you know he can read the conflict on your face like a book.

“Is it something I did?” he asks. “Something I said? Because-”

“I have vaginismus.”

You spit the words out so fast, before they have a chance to retreat again. Your face immediately goes warm, and you clench your hands tightly together in your lap. The inside of your cheek is bleeding now.

The car decelerates, the rumble strip coming in contact with the tires as Dean slowly pulls off onto the side of the road. He turns the engine off, swivels in his seat to face you, and tries to hold the eye contact that you are desperate to avoid.

“You have what?”

God, how could you be so stupid? But you’ve already blurted it out, so now you’re stuck in this ditch, this grave you’ve dug for yourself.

“Vaginismus,” you whisper.

You still can’t look at him, but when he reaches for your hand you don’t pull away.

“Okay…and that is?”

You take a deep breath, let it out slowly. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until Dean’s other hand wipes some tears off your cheek.

“Talk to me, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “It’s bad.”

“I think I can take it.”

You pull your hand away from his, hastily wipe the tears from your face as the sadness shifts to anger. Anger at yourself, at your dumb body, at how this always happens, with everyone. Angry that you let it happen with Dean. God, you can’t lose Dean.

“My body doesn’t…it doesn’t work right. It doesn’t do what it’s supposed to.”

“Your body doesn’t… what do you mean, ‘what it’s supposed to’?”

“I can’t have sex, Dean,” you spit out. “I can’t have sex, and I know you want sex, every man wants sex, and I want to have sex with you. I want to be close to you like that, but whenever anything goes down…there… It hurts. It hurts like hell.”

Silence follows your words. You can feel a new set of tears coming on as you kick off your shoes and draw your socked feet up in the seat, bending your knees to rest your chin on top of them. The car has gone cold without the heater on, and your breath makes tiny ghosts that drift away from you into oblivion. You wish you could disappear like that right now.

“Are you okay if I ask a question?”

You nod.

He clears his throat. “So you do want to have sex…but you don’t actually want to, you can’t…because it hurts when you do?”

Another nod.

“I mean, is it something that will go away with…you know…practice?”

You close your eyes, try to keep your breathing even so you don’t hyperventilate. “So the muscles, they just tighten up. I can’t stop it, I can’t make them…release, or whatever. And god, Dean, I’ve tried. I’ve been trying for years to get past this.” You laugh sadly, “Hell, I can’t even use tampons when I’m on my period. It feels like I’m being stabbed.”

“Wow.”

You turn your head to the side, look at him leaned against the driver’s window. He’s looking at his hands, rubbing his knuckles between his fingers. Feeling the weight of your eyes, he pulls his head up, meets your gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you say gently. “I’m sorry I can’t fix that part of me, that I can’t fully be what you need me to be.” The next few words are the hardest, but you get them out. “I’ll get my stuff packed up when we get back, get a motel room, maybe start the drive back home tomorrow.”

But what even is home? Because right now, in this car, freezing your ass off… this feels like home. Dean feels like home, and has for a long time now.

“Wait, what?” His face is twisted, words thick. “I don’t want you to leave. Is that what youwant?”

“I can’t make you happy the way you deserve,” you continue, throat thick as the tears break through again. “I’m broken. And you deserve more than that, more than me.”

He moves at your words, slides across the space between the two of you and cups your face between his hands, holds you in place so you can’t look away from him as he wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart,” Dean says gently. “You are far more than I could deserve. You’ve seen me through hell and back, and you didn’t leave me. Why do you think I would abandon you over something like this?”

You sniff back snot, clasp your hands tightly together. “Because I know how important it is to you, what it means to be able to connect like that, to get comfort and…and…be satisfied. Everyone wants that, Dean, and I can’t give that to you.”

His hands travel to your shoulders, squeeze them tightly. “Y/N, if it’s you or sex, I choose you. Every damn time.”

“But that’s not fair to you-”

“Okay, so?” His voice has lost its softness, irritation wrapping around his words. “In the grand scheme of things, after all we’ve been through together, this is so small.” You feel your face constrict in pain at his words, and he catches your shift in emotions, adapts his method of approach. “I know this isn’t small, I know you’ve had to struggle with this. I really can’t say I get it, because I don’t, but god, Y/N, I’m not just going to up and call it quits because we aren’t having sex.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” you ask through your tears. “What if you need more than what I can give you?”

He smiles for the first time, pulls you into his warm chest and holds you close against him while he strokes your hair. “You are enough. You’re more than enough. And we’re going to work through this, going to make changes so we’re both happy when we’re close to each other. Time with you, it should only be good. And if you aren’t enjoying it, if you’re in pain… I’d never want that for you.”

You cling to him, will yourself to believe what he’s saying. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, the first time a man you loved didn’t immediately run away. “I don’t want to hurt you, either.”

He hugs you closer, and the Impala suddenly doesn’t feel so cold anymore. “We’re going to be okay, Y/N, because we always are. You, me, we can do anything as long as we have each other.”

You stay like that for some time before Dean starts the car up again and you begin the trek back. You stay curled up against his side, his arm tight around your frame, your head resting on his shoulder. And it’s not like you magically believe that everything is going to be easy from now on, that things are just better. Because you know it’s still going to be hard, that working through this isn’t easy, that it takes immense patience on his end and mountains of trust on yours.

But you do trust him. You trust him with your life. And, for the first time, you decide to fully trust him with this part of you, too.

——————–