Journal of a Wildman

Hard to believe it’s been nearly 6 months since I last posted here.

Our friend @Exsexgod wrote the following recently:
I fall deeper, deeper and deeper, loosing every power. Getting fatter, fatter and fatter. Getting immobile, more and more housebond. Living with my fantasies 95 % in the past… Bloodpressure through the roof. Breath short.

He has written my story as well! Instead of enjoying a life of retired leisure activities, I stumble from day to day.
I need to add one more short and simple line:

Waiting daily for this miserable life’s end. Jim

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I grew up in a litlle suburb, in the 60ties a village with farmer boys, bakery daughters and village people in my primary school. The wild 70ties with glam rock from England and then Punk in the early eighties. Study in West Berlin, wall was down experincing all the east Berlin Club sceene. Years in the hinterlands “Grimms thales land” Düsseldorf and Colonge, back home. I met so many different people, lived with women, affairs, parties, friendship with so many guys.

Now forgotten! Nobody left! Two old friends! The childreen on weekends, but they go their own way. Sometimes I’m full of fear for the childreens future. Germany was the safest country of the world all my life. Now getting a failed state. Lost my money and estate because of Oil Boycott and supervisor etc. too. I’m forgotten.

Then here! Im happy that two guys recovered in my german group. Spontaneous, not by fucking hcg lie. But the rest, only some are very active, together with pssd to rise awarness and fund good research with universities and new techniques. But the rest only expiriencing hcg voodoo cult and fake recoveries. So I feel lonly in the groups too.

Forgotten and shut off. Like the silent majority of us. So I sit in mc chair day in day out, cant face the whore I had, cant face the sick midget urologist with his mini cock in summer 2018 in his Surgerey shorts in the practice, cant face that I sent probes to an asbestos lab before I renovated a wall and didnt check my pills…

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Friend, you and I face a denial that the younger ones do not: the denial that we are sick from some strange drug reaction, instead we are sick simply because we are old.

I am nearing 68 next week, and people including my wife will tell me that the ailments I have are those shared by many old folks. (Regardless of the fact that I was very healthy and sexually active just a few years ago.)

I don’t have PFS I’m told,
I am merely growing old!
Jim

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19 posts were split to a new topic: Move to Reddit + automod rules

I wrote that a full year ago, and still have not posted a decent update. I will finally try, breaking it into manageable segments.

I wrote then that I was deep in a crash. The best I could figure was I had taken zinc for a month to ward off winter colds. Afterwards I read that zinc could cause problems, and boy howdy, it did to me! No zinc for me ever again.

Today, a quick catch-up on sex. A few months after the crash I actually started experiencing nocturnal erections! First time in years! This developed into rare daytime erections, as well.

I thought I was on the way to recovery, but overnight it all ceased. No hint of erections, day or night. No sexual dreams. All gone with the wind.

Possibly the worst part, my penis is shrinking. Last summer it was near normal’s 6 inches, now it is at barely 2". Hardly enough to hold onto to piss. And that my friend is depressing!

I have no idea what caused this genital crash. No new meds. No illness. Just gone, overnight. And that’s part one of my update. Jim

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I do not post here as often as I should…but today I must.

Yesterday I made an attempt at humor on a fellow poster’s topic. No harm intended, but it was not appreciated. He called me on it, and I sincerely apologized. He says we’re good now, and I pray that is true. I’ve been miserable all day at the thought I caused distress to this good man. Again, I apologize to my friend.

This incident made me realize anew, how this insipid PFS can harm us in vastly different ways sometimes.

Some here lose weight uncontrollably, and others gain weight despite diets.

Some have brain fog, others stay sharp. Sometimes it comes and goes!

Some can take a vitamin like zinc and they crash, and others feel no effects.

Worst, some recover in several months (yay!) while others are tormented for decades! (I’m at 4+years now.)

Mostly I’m reminded that under it all, we are all hurting with no cure in sight. We need to support each other through this mess. Stay strong, brothers. Jim

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Jim you are a good man, you always try to be a positive influence on here with your empathetic understanding and caring nature.

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I was preparing for a new post here, and got a surprise shock!

I’ve thought this is my 4th anniversary of my PFS, and yes, I have now been on this forum for four years now. But…

Rereading my first post here, I see with shock that my PFS started in April 2019. FIVE years ago, not four. I lost a year in this battle!

This worries me anew, as I read here recently that a good number of us heal in their 4th year. Significance unknown, but something to look forward to. Now that’s a false hope for me.

Five years this month. Damn. Jim

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Jesus. Did the missing year occur while you were at the lowest point of PFS, or was this something that occured to you without explanation?

In retrospect, I must have in my blurred mind, associated my years of PFS with my time here. Never thought twice about it! Until…recently I reread my first post and realized I had PFS for a year before starting my member story.
The shock was like being an adult who just discovered he’s adopted!
My own fault, I guess! Thanks for asking…Jim