Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Masturbating with OCD
Masturbating with OCD
Masturbating with OCD
Ebook133 pages2 hours

Masturbating with OCD

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

4.5/5

()

Read preview

About this ebook

A collection of essays about one (emotionally damaged) guy doing his best to make the most of a bad situation.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 19, 2013
ISBN9781494720636
Masturbating with OCD

Related to Masturbating with OCD

Related ebooks

Relationships For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Masturbating with OCD

Rating: 4.333333333333333 out of 5 stars
4.5/5

3 ratings1 review

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This book really captivated me. Gabriel has an incredible way with words that makes you feel like you are talking with a friend. Highly relatable as someone with OCD!

Book preview

Masturbating with OCD - Gabriel Mendez

[Document SuMasturbating with OCD

Copyright 2013 Gabriel Mendez

Published by Gabriel C. Mendez at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1: Introduction

Chapter 2: Toothache

Chapter 3: Backfire

Chapter 4: A Garbage Memory Part 1: I Thought You Should Know

Chapter 5: Progress

Chapter 6: Panic Attack Part 1

Chapter 7: Somewhere in the Middle

Chapter 8: Ask A Gay Guy

Chapter 9: Panic Attack Part 2

Chapter 10: A Garbage Memory Part 2: Taken Over

Chapter 11: I am Not a Mature Adult

Chapter 12: Masturbating with O.C.D.

Chapter 13: Panic Attack Part 3

Chapter 14: From the Mouth of Babes

Chapter 15: Panic Attack Part 4

Chapter 16: Bad Joke

Chapter 17: Destruction Makes Me Sappy

Thank You

Dear Kenneth Denson,

You probably won't remember this but at 4:45 am I came to bed and pulled you close. I kissed you on the forehead and cheek and said I loved you and I'm happy you're my husband. Even in your sleep, you slurred a joke. What? Don't lie… I laughed and pulled you closer. Your hair smelled sweet because you took a shower before bed (as I requested). And without the heat, the tip of your nose was so cold on my chin. I was sure to gently kiss it to warm it up. Then you started snoring and breathing heavily in my face. I shoved you aside and snapped, quit breathing on me. You rolled over and I did my best to fall asleep holding your hand while you kicked me.

Then a cat bit my toe.

Let’s never change this.

Forever yours and forever awake,

G.

P.S.

By the smell of your breath I can tell the devil lives in your mouth.

Chapter 1

Introduction

Hello,

Thank you for purchasing, borrowing, or stealing this book. If you did borrow or steal it, then good for you for not spending money. These are hard times and the cash is better used for cigarettes or burritos. If you did buy this book you are either a friend I harassed into opening your wallet; or you saw the cover and the title and thought it was some weird how-to manual. Whichever category you fall in, you will be disappointed.

I should also mention the word book is liberally applied to what is actually a super thick pamphlet. These are the stories that made the cut. In two hours, when you’re done reading, you’ll wonder, what didn’t make the cut? The answer? A lot.

It’s a bit presumptuous of me, but lets use this space to answer some questions I know you have about the book and/or me.

Who the hell are you?

Honestly? A nobody. I’m just some guy with a myriad of problems, physical and emotional. But I’m funny with a little bit of charm and pretty eyes.

Masturbation is in the title. Are these stories sexy or erotic in some way?

I guess that depends on your definition of sexy. If husky, Hispanic boys with OCD, depression, and back hair are the subject of your fantasies, then keep reading, weirdo.

If it’s not sexy then does it have monsters like vampires or werewolves?

Unless you mean the monster that is life, then yes! If you mean the kind of metaphorical monster that lives deep within us all, a kind of man-versus-self thing, that’s in here, too. Aside from that, no, you will not find any vampires. But I did have sex with a re-animated corpse after a heavy meal of blood. Although, I promised myself that was a one time thing and to never speak of it again.

So what are these stories about then?

I don’t give advice here. No cooking tips either. No romance, fantasy, sci-fi or mystery to be found in these pages. If anything this is the exact opposite of a self-help book. These are stories of self-hate and self-doubt. Things we all struggle with. I just happen to overcome it in irregular and immature yet humorous ways.

This sounds boring.

You’re right, it does.

You’re only writing this introduction to fill space, aren’t you?

Damn it, reader! Why you gotta call me out like that? No, I’m not trying to fill space. I’m simply doing my best to inform you, the reader, of what to expect. The heartache of emotions that don’t work correctly without medication and therapy. The struggles of a gay boy trying to make it through his day without being reminded that he’s in some way different. How to age gracefully and without taking it too seriously. The goal of the entire endeavor is to find laughs in the darkest of places created by our own brain. And, really, just to simply make you laugh, too. There’s nothing worse than having an affliction that isolates you in misery and you can’t find a damn thing to laugh at. Well now you can can.

You do know there’s a typo in the sentience above, right?

God Damn it! Either nobody would have caught that or they would have assumed I was talking about dancing if you hadn’t pointed it out. But yeah, alright, you got me. It is a typo. And there’s plenty more where that came from. This was an independent effort. I didn’t have any fancy editors to correct my mistakes. I did my best to comb through pages for corrections. SOme might have slipped by. As you’ll read in the coming pages, I’m terribly human and make mistakes.

That sounds like some defensive bullshit for a poorly edited book.

Okay, you know what, reader? Let me see your book. Let’s see how many typos I can find. I’ll even bring my own red pen. You know I have one. Oh, you don’t have a book? Then shut up about it.

Jesus! Insulting a reader? I don’t know if I want to read this weird yet funny collection of stories anymore. I bet David Sedaris has something new to read.

NO! Don’t do that. I mean, sure, read his stuff. He’s much nicer and smarter than me. But read mine first! Come back, reader. Dear, precious reader. I need you. I’m sorry. I just get a little agitated at times. I think it’s my blood sugar. If it get’s too low I go a little bonkers. The same happens to my diabetic mother. Maybe I’m diabetic. Oh God, I have diabetes.

Have you filled enough space yet?

Yeah, I think that’ll do it.

-Gabriel

Chapter 2

Toothache

For someone whose diet is mostly sugar and tobacco, it was no surprise that I found myself awake at 4am, cradling my jaw from intense pain. Except I live most of my life in denial and was actually surprised. Maybe I had some food lodged between some teeth or maybe I had bitten down on something hard. Whatever it was, it brought on a sharp pulse that ran through the entire lower half of my face. It never crossed my mind that I could possibly have a cavity. Why do my teeth hurt so bad? I asked my sleeping husband. He didn’t respond, but he did snore. Discouraged, I grabbed a handful of Sweet Tarts from my nightstand and went back to sleep.

The next day around 2pm, which is when I wake if my sleep goes unchecked, I lay in bed with an achy face. I stared at the ceiling fan whirring above and tried to recall how I could have maybe gotten lockjaw. My neck, jaw, and cheeks throbbed when I tried to open my mouth. This kept me from my morning rituals of a cigarette and loud, obscene name-calling. It was a welcome change for Kenneth who works from home and this was well into his work day. Then my stomach growled and I had to eat something, proving that food is the only reason I ever leave the bed.

In the morning, or after 10 to 11 hours of sleep, whichever happens first, I really do try to make sure the first bit of food that goes into my body is healthy. I do this even in spite of my morning cigarette. In the kitchen, I stood at my pantry, unable to decide between the raspberry and strawberry Pop-Tarts. I decided to have both and save the self-hatred, which was inevitable, until after dinner. Waiting for the first set of Pop-Tarts to heat, I leaned against the counter and stretched my jaw. I could taste blood, even through the forced post-sleep cigarette.

Panicking and getting lost in what if’s I swiftly walked to the bathroom. In a moment of panic, I never allow myself to run. Running means the situation is real while walking quickly means the horror is safely confined to my imagination. In the mirror, I stuck a couple of freshly washed

Enjoying the preview?
Page 1 of 1