The Problem with Flying Solo

**NOTE: this blog post may be offensive as it covers some deeply personal issues for men and addresses a sexual dysfunction.


How much of your life do you spend alone? I'm not only talking about being physically alone, but more specifically, emotionally alone. Even if you are sitting side-by-side with your friends and even your wife and kids, are you really all alone? Are you lonely?

For me, the answer is most often, "yes". And it is a great flaw, and a tragedy. It's easy for those who are Christians to say, "But God is with me." And that's true; God promises never to leave us. In David's dark times he called out to the God he knows would hold him up. And then there was Job, an innocent man who called to God, yet God remained silent for a while. But that's not what I'm talking about here. What I'm talking about is our ability to really connect with others. Most of the time it isn't an inability so much as it is a lack of desire.

We are guarded; most of us for a reason. We have been beaten down, mocked, ridiculed, abused, taunted, or otherwise humiliated enough times that we have gradually but decisively built forts around ourselves. We protect our hearts with sturdy walls and towers that allow us to see a great distance to determine friend or foe. But it is not until they are standing at the shore of our moat and make gallant efforts to convince us of their loyalty, that we will decide whether or not we will lower the draw bridge.

And so we sit, lonely on our thrones with only the jesters in our heads to entertain us, amusing thoughts we can control, and the minstrels on our ipods to drown out the clamoring masses seeking an invitation to our hearts. But we know better. We've had friends leave us, girlfriends dump us, bosses fire us, the government rob us, and family neglect us. So alone we are protected with no one to betray us.

Or so we think.

This is where it gets personal. I only share this because this blog is anonymous (see? I can stay in my fort and fire arrows with notes over the walls of my fortress.) and I doubt we will ever meet.

I'm a lonely man, maybe just like you. People don't know that. They can't; I won't tell them. My job requires me to keep things to myself while carrying the burdens of others. I'm a pastor. People ask me how I'm doing and I can tell them "I'm fine" or I can share a little shallow struggle that lets them know why I'm tired this week or emotionally drained. But I dare not share my deepest places, even with close friends. As a wise pastor told his people, "If you knew very much about me, you would never allow me to be your pastor." Healthy? No. But true. There are thinks I think and feel and wrestle with, that I must keep to myself lest I lose my job and/or shake the faith of the people I serve. Do I surrender to my struggles? Usually no, but on occasion I waver. I am by no means perfect, but my struggles aren't as great as those of others. However, they are more than church leadership is comfortable with. I should know better, they would say, and I do.

And so, like most men, I walk alone. Desperado. Lone Wolf McQuade. El Mariachi. Rambo. Take your pick for your image of the solo man. But not the Lone Ranger. Even he had Tonto.

I've mentioned that I do triathlons (I only did one this year because several things made me drop 2 from my schedule). Triathlon is a solo sport. You can't block someone's progress, touch anyone, or even draft of someone else on the bike. It's you v. the clock. But do you know how they tell you to train? With a partner. But I don't. I have to fly solo on that one, too. And it affects my performance. I have no one to push me, no one to compete against, no one to hold me to a training schedule. And it limits me. Even my nutrition is a solo sport, so I have plateaued on my weight loss as a result.

And here's the kicker, the core of masculinity: sex. No, it's not a solo sport for me, but thanks for asking. I DO have a partner there. But my struggle is lonely. Here's the personal part (DANGER, WILL ROBINSON! DANGER, DANGER!!): IF I can achieve a solid erection, and IF I can maintain it enough for a significant sexual encounter, my orgasm percentage is down to about 20-25%. In other words, I will have an orgasm once out of every 4-5 sexual encounters. Sometimes I can't get it up at all, but when I do, I'm crossing my fingers that I can finish it out.

But the odds are that I won't. My wife knows this, and I have to convince her that it isn't her fault. So I take the pressure of apologizing to her, convincing her that it isn't her fault, and bearing the guilt of what should be so easy that even a dog can do it, but I can't. I know some of it is performance anxiety, and it's getting worse. And so I'm searching for solutions. Alone.

Who can I tell? My doctor knows a little as he is trying to help me balance out my testosterone. But who else? Not a co-worker (the other pastors), and certainly not a church member! Could you see that written on the prayer sheet being passed around Sunday school?

So it's one more thing: one more brick in the wall of my fortress (label facing in, of course) to isolate me from other men. Tell me I'm not alone in this thinking. I'm not alone, right?

Right?