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So, reading over part one of this story (you didn't know there were more parts did you?) I realize it's been three years since my last reality-story of the saga with my case. Much has happened, and the story quickens from this point, which is why I write to you now. My partner back then is no longer my partner now, I've left the college town I lived in and moved to the larger Metro area available to those of us in Oregon. Once you've done everything there is to do in my old town, well then... you're simply done. In any case, moving North was an effort to change aspects of my life, to remove myself from the safety net of family and years-old friends to discover what there really was to discover of myself and life. It took a great purging, selling my home, changing my job, and eventually losing my partner (though that was amicable). Moving up here, to the larger metro area, gives you more medical opportunities and I looked to reap those benefits once I settled in. It was within a few months of my move that I told my Doctor that I wanted to "see someone regarding depression in relation to sexual issues". Doctors, especially MALE Doctors, don't want to discuss what happens to disabled people in bed. Trust me, I know, after YEARS of broaching the subject I have found the subject IMMEDIATELY changed to something less threatening to them. As stated previously, I was a very active bottom. Not a slut, mind you, I just REALLY enjoyed what I felt I was good at. I would try to find new ways to astound my man with the things that a bottom could do. While I wasn't terribly sensitive about his penis inside me, I did know it was there and I did quite like it being there, wherever "there" happened to be. But I had lost all sensation in my backside and the "Call me when you're done" statement from the previous update was very depressing. In fact, it had reached a point where I wasn't seeking anyone to top me. People came along, and I'm open to a friendly encounter on occassion, but I never really got into it like the good old days. This of course, brings on depression. Nostalgia is one thing, but there's a chance you can go back to the elementary school and experience that swing that you're all so nostalgic about. But, this wasn't something I could go back and experience again. They say you can throw a frog in a boiling pot of water and he'll just jump right out. However, if you toss the frog in a pot of water and just turn up the heat - he'll stick around until he's boiled to death. Life is like that for us humans, we can go day to day with things changing subtlely and look back with suprise to see that the water has been boiling for some time. So, the good ol' Doc sent me to a female psychologist and we began working away at my micro-depression. It's micro-depression, you see, because I'm a happy-go-lucky fellow. Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans, as they say. I'm really good at rolling with any punches. That's why this micro-depression was as much a suprise to me as it is to my family. So, she and I got down to brass tacks. Of course, since my depression surrounds sex and being sexual, the subject of my desire to be castrated came up. I was very up front with it and very frank and honest. After months of working on other issues and other situations and dealing with life from all other angles, one day she finally said "you know, it's not as if you haven't been castrated already". I had finally found a sympathetic ear for my castration ideals. So, that's where this update brings us, I have a psychologist who agrees that I should go on chemical castration for a while to "see how it goes". During her research she was unable to find castration information that was very useful to her in our discussions. I did get her in touch with Dr. Gianna Israel in San Francisco and they spoke for some time, but there were no essays (that she could find) of people who were castrated or who were on chemical castration that were of benefit to us in our research. So, this is part two of many parts to come where I will hopefully be able to provide y'all with some frank snapshots of life on a prescription castration drug. She's setting up the prescription and we'll begin soon. While this may be of limited benefit to many of you, and of no benefit to those who were hoping this update was of a sexual nature, perhaps this will be of benefit to those who were curious. Those who, like me, were looking for a way to broach the subject with a sympathetic physician, who were convinced that they weren't a nut case for wanting to be nutted, those who have other issues besides just wanting to be nutted, and those who are generally curious. If you wish to correspond directly with me, and as a forewarning your questions may be addressed in a further update, you can email me directly by clicking at the link on the bottom of the page. Ever your submissive gay bottom, Davis Barrett
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