Shyness, Love, & Heterosexual Interaction

Why is the happiness and contentment of males so much more strongly influenced by successful heterosexual interaction than that of females? Most researchers today believe that the answer rests on the fact that women tend to be capable of finding emotionally intimate companionship vis-a-vis their own sex whereas men are able to satisfy their needs for emotional intimacy only in the company of women. Furthermore, non-dating females can normally manage to develop and maintain their socioemotional social skills and social self-confidence in their all-female peer groups. In contrast, non-dating males are usually isolated from social networks involving same-sexed peers.

— Brian G. Gilmartin, Shyness & Love (1987), p. 13

Bear in mind that this was written a quarter-century ago, and for all I know (but don’t have time to research), subsequent studies have produced findings that mitigate or even contradict Gilmartin’s claims.

For example, Robert Glover’s No More Mr. Nice Guy groups have been providing stronger connections among men. The rise of the Manosphere on the Web also has provided men a chance to share their struggles with each other.

Also, since I’ve learned about “Game” and the “Red Pill” philosophy (thanks to bloggers like Heartiste, Roosh, Paul the King, Badger, and the Private Man), I’m more skeptical about Gilmartin’s theory — for example the idea that men need the love of a woman to make them happy seems simplistic and, well, “Beta”.

Like it or not, you might be on your own when it comes to happiness, regardless of your relationships. (And don’t anybody tell me “you don’t know what it’s like, being so lonely for so long” — ohhh yes I do, I’ve never had sex and never had a gf, there you go I admitted it). A favorite quote of mine comes from Richard O’Connor in his book Undoing Depression: “Happiness is not something others can give you or you can get for yourself, but a byproduct of living well.” [note, this might be a paraphrase and not a direct quote, but it’s pretty close.]


DIY Sleep Study

So I tried video-ing myself sleeping one night to investigate why I wake up so frequently (and therefore feel fatigued during the day).


I didn’t discover anything groundbreaking. I didn’t snore. In fact I was a pretty quiet sleeper. I did twitch my nose quite a bit, as if something was tickling it, which is funny to watch.

I’m trying to do this on the cheap. Even with insurance a “real” sleep study would cost quite a bit. And the Zeo is running about 150 bucks and might not be worth it.

UPDATE (March 2014):

A lot’s changed since I posted this. Got a real sleep study done. Obstructive Sleep Apnea with an AHI of 43. It took 9 months to find a CPAP mask that worked for me. My AHI is now around 3. Still have insomnia though. We’re doing sleep hygiene, Lunesta, and now even Sleep Restriction Protocol.

Man Gel Update

In January I began using AndroGel, the prescription testosterone (T) supplement. I dubbed it “Man Gel”. Go back and read about it. [LINK]

I had hopes that it would do more than just increase my libido. What I really wanted were the other positive effects, such as:

  • Increased energy
  • Increased taking of initiative
  • Increased decisiveness
  • Less moodiness

In fact, I wanted those effects more than I wanted an increased libido. In other words, I was looking for testosterone’s psychological and emotional benefits. In other other words, I was hoping testosterone therapy would work as an anti-depressant. It was a behavioral health nurse who first suggested that low-T, aka the “male menopause”, might be contributing to my depressive symptoms. There have been correlations found between low T and depression in men, but the studies seem to say that it happens in older men. And I’m not that old.

So, every morning I pumped out two small handfuls of this clear gel that smelled like isopropyl alcohol and smeared it all over my lower abdomen, shoulders and upper arms. Then I went out to face the day like a new man. (No, not really.)

But I never felt any different. At first I thought I felt a slight increase in my sex drive, but I think it was mostly psychosomatic. But there was no effect that I could sense in my energy level or initiative level or mood. As far as I could tell, the AndroGel was having no impact on me.

A week ago, after two months of AndroGel, I had my blood drawn to measure what my testosterone level is. Apparently the news was good. My doctor notified me that the blood test revealed that my T level was wayyyy higher than my T level had been two months ago. He was excited and sounded very positive about the results.

But, I’ll say this again: I don’t feel any different.

I don’t doubt the blood test results. However, I cannot subjectively tell any difference in myself now compared to two months ago.

So I have to make a decision.

One, I could tell my doctor that I haven’t felt any effects from AndroGel. I imagine this might confuse him, and I don’t want any further embarrassment. I can’t see him increasing the dosage, since my testosterone level as revealed by the blood test is already 200 points higher than the doctor’s initial goal for me. He might say that if it gets any higher I’ll start picking fights with strangers or groping random women. He had told me that men imprisoned for violent crimes tend to have exceedingly high T levels.

Two, I could just stop using it. Right now it seems like a waste of money.

Three, I’m not so sure that I even want an increased sex drive, given how alone I am. If I had a wife or girlfried it would matter more. But, since I have so little chance of hooking up with anyone any time soon, maybe having a low sex drive is a blessing in disguise. It keeps the frustration and depression of loneliness away. It could be that when I was younger and would plunge into depression whenever my sense of failure with girls overtook me, it wouldn’t have hurt me so bad if I hadn’t had much of a sex drive to begin with.

If anybody reads this blog and has suggestions about what I can do to achieve the non-libido effects mentioned above, and increase my energy and initiative and ambition, please make them.

I’m Using Man Gel


It was a Saturday and my doctor, – we’ll call him Hippocrates in my blog’s standard of renaming names to protect the innocent – just happened to be doing his turn to work a Saturday at the clinic.

The nurse took me back to the exam room area and stood me on the weight scale, which mis-weighed me as it always does. “Oops”, she said at first, “I almost took 50 pounds off of your there for a moment you weigh 145 not a195.” Hell it doesn’t matter because I don’t weigh 195 either. Like I said, their scale is off. You’d think a med clinic would have more accurately calibrated equipment. I wasn’t mad at this, more amused than anything. Took my temperature and blood pressure too, as they always do by routine. All normal as usual.

As we entered the exam room proper, she said “go head and sit down in the chair please.” Now, there were two chairs, placed side by side against the wall between the sink and the examination table. I chose the chair on the left and sat down. “Oh not that one, she said, the other one.” OK, could you be a bit more specific, I thought. She meant the other chair. Apparently she couldn’t see that there were two of them and I guess I was supposed to just know that she meant the one on the right. How silly of me. No worries, though. It was somewhat amusing too.

The nurse was middle aged, like 40-ish, and a 3 on the HB scale [warning: NSFW]. It wasn’t her usual day to work either and it showed. She yawned. She couldn’t’ remember if she’d seen me before. Well, I didn’t remember her either; on the three occasions that I’d visited Dr Hippocrates, I’d been introduced to three different nurses. This one didn’t understand what I written on my patient visit sheet (where it asked what would you like to discuss with your physician today?) I had a momentary bit of anxiety, worried that I wasn’t supposed to written on that form. I wasn’t here to have my T checked but that I’d decided to get treated for it. Low T, that is. It’s all good, though – I knew that Dr H. would remember my last visit when he’d told me about Androgel.


Libido in a bottle


Then I waited ten minutes for Dr Hippocrates to come in. In the meantime I read a magazine article about Phil Mickelson’s arthritis. For some reason the magazine had chosen as it’s lead photo of him a shot of him in a gay, bright purple golf shirt. Well, the magazine was mostly targeted at women. It wasn’t SI.

So Dr H. came in with my charts and paperwork from previous visits, etc. Actually, he scuffed into the room with suede moccasin slippers on his feet. He seems like a good doctor and is friendly and smart and knows his stuff, but them slippers weren’t professional-looking. Okey-dokey, must be a casual Saturday thing. Of course, my gatekeeper (the inner voice) stopped me from saying anything about it. In fact it would never occur to me to make any such remarks. I’m too sensitive about making others feel embarrassed Even though I am always feeling embarrassed in most situations, myself.

I said, “I’ve been in here before about my T-level which was ‘low-normal’. And you told me about AndroGel. I was going to think about it, and I’ve decided to give it a try.”

“OK, good.” He was starting to remember me, perhaps? He looked at my lab results, which showed the T levels. Then, I realized he didn’t remember me, because he spent fifteen minutes telling me everything he had already told me the last time I was there.

Men experience a natural, gradual decline in T as they age, declining about 10% each decade. Even though its called ‘male menopause’ it’s not like the menopause women experience, because it’s not sudden or precipitous. There was the analogy of a bull elephant stampeding through a village, full of testosterone, and of violent men in prison. I would’ve had high T when I was a teenager, of course, but now my level was quite low for someone my age, he remarked.

“How old are you, again?” he asked, flipping the pages of my chart.

“Forty-four”, I said.

He hesitated just a split second, then chuckled a little and said, “Oh, you look a lot younger than that.”

Oops. He’d thought my T level was extraordinarily low (for a young man, which I’m not), not just a little low. I get that a lot – people telling me I look younger than I am, that is, not people questioning my testosterone level. I suppose that virginity, having only a few gray hairs, and staying out of the sun will do that to a guy. Anyway, the level was still a bit low, and treatments are available.

The typical patient who comes in seeking treatment for low testosterone is doing so because his relationship with his wife or girlfriend is suffering due to his loss of sex drive. There are other reasons as well – or, symptoms, I should say. These include having low energy, moodiness and irritability, fatigue, low motivation, and so on. Those would be my reasons, but I didn’t tell him that, specifically. I just added those symptoms in with low sex drive, as if it were all part of the same package.

He thought I was married. I told him no.

Sexually active? – No, but I’d like to be (throwing him a bone, so he’d think I was normal).

Seeing someone? – No.

Homosexual relationships? – No.

Have you ever been in a Turkish prison? – No.

Do you like movies about gladiators? – No.

(OK, I made up those last two.)

So, Dr H. was confused as to why I was concerned about my T level. He questioned me some more, trying to find out what, if I wasn’t eager to increase my sex drive and improve my relationship with a “partner”, I was hoping to get out of AndroGel.

Inwardly I bristled, though I remained calm on the outside. No one must find out my ugly secrets, you see. For a moment I thought I should’ve just lied and said yes, it’s to help my sex life with my wife. Good thing I didn’t, since I’m not wearing a wedding ring. Or I could lie and say it was for sex with my girlfriend. I’m not comfortable with lying, despite the habit of trying to conceal all my secrets. In the end I told him the truth, how it was recommended as supplemental treatment for depression.

His demeanor changed subtly. Not in a negative way — more like he lost his state of confusion (confusion caused by me and my Gatekeeper, that is) and he now understood that he had a different tack to follow. He began describing how there are of course other reasons for supplementing one’s testosterone, that sex drive is simply the most common one, and that medical science is still somewhat new regarding men and testosterone and it’s effects and how levels can vary and so forth.

I sat there and listened calmly – which for me means self-consciously trying to look normal, making eye contact, nodding, trying to smile occasionally, etc. (You ought to understand how deeply, thoroughly, overwhelmingly sensitive we fucked-up neurotic people are to the reactions to us shown by others, even the imaginary reactions. And, most of the time we’re barely aware that that’s how we are!)

As I sat there listening, sadness came over me. My Gatekeeper told me this was a mistake, that I won’t actually get the Rx filled, I won’t take it and won’t return for a follow-up visit, that I should’ve seen a specialist who has experience treating patients with comorbid psych conditions, that I’ve embarrassed him and made him uncomfortable, that I’m once again the square peg who’s doing something for weird reasons. I caught myself doing this, ruminating in front of Dr H, and then self-consciously worried that I might have a sad or distressed expression on my face and ought to control it so as not to make him uncomfortable. A bit of warm moistness rippling behind my eyes – if any depressives are reading this, you know what I’m describing, that hot black despair that arises and threatens to overtake you at inopportune times. If you’ve never experienced it you don’t know how powerful it can be. Not a good sign, here and now, don’t want to cry in front of him, what’s the matter with me?

That said, Dr H was tactful and understanding and still willing to prescribe the Man-Gel for me. If this were a novel, I would’ve made his character more bizarre, or judgmental or something, or perhaps gay and would hit on me, right? Such is life.

Do you understand the power that the fear of embarrassment can have over a person? That’s why I didn’t tell him I was a virgin. That’s why I also hesitated initially in telling him that my real motivation was to improve all those non-sexual things. What? Don’t’ you want to have a sex drive? No, because I’ll just wind up frustrated all the time. I went through my teens and twenties full of raging T, and came out of it still a virgin, because my gatekeeper would not let me get over my love-shyness.

One of my major, lifelong personality traits is an habitual reluctance to reveal personal details about myself to others. It’s that whole fear-of-being-shamed thing that comes with an avoidant temperament. It’s an automatic reaction, not something I decided on or planned to become. Thus, personal questions – even from a physician seeking to properly diagnose and treat one’s medical condition – are to be evaded.

Dr h handed me a prescription for this controlled substance. It’s not like steroids, though, so you’re not going to go to the gym and bulk up by using it. Nevertheless, that’s how the deeply concerned nannies regulators of our FDA has classified it.

We’ll see how it goes.