Sex and Mental Illness (a personal anecdote) Part 2

WARNING: The following post is of a sensitive nature, and may offend some readers.

He still seemed agitated; no energy had been released during our brief encounter.  He turned his head to me sharply and said.

“That wasn’t good”.

I rolled my eyes immediately.

“Of course it wasn’t going to be good. Its my first time.”

He stood up and made his way over to the armchair near my bed and began putting his shoes on.  I decided he was simply being a jerk and concentrated on keeping the tears in.  That’s when he started.

“You know I’m different from you.”


“Yeah I have extra teeth and bones…I’m a vampire”.

He spent the next 40 minutes talking about the angels and demons who talk to him, the prophecy he believes he must fulfill, and the small balls of purple and white light (“spirits”) he sees everywhere.  While unsure whether he’s the antichrist or the new messiah, he does know that he will save the world very soon.

Naturally for the first 2 minutes of his monologue, I thought he was joking.  I went along, sarcastically.  But his eyes kept turning towards the ceiling and it didn’t seem something a sane person could make up.  (“I have fangs that haven’t descended which is why I can breathe better”.)  The ease and pace with which he spoke was natural, as if it was the plot of a book or movie he was relaying to me.

The next 10 minutes were spent convincing myself that I was dreaming.  After all, I’d finally lost my virginity and then the guy goes on a psychotic rant?  It had to be a dream.  I willed myself to wake up.

When that didn’t happen, I realized I might die this way.  I mean there was a man talking about being a sociopath and the antichrist in front of me, and we’d just had sex (sort of).  If it were a movie, I was about to be strangled.

I slowly began to reach for my clothes, still nodding at him calmly as he spoke.  (After all if I was going to die I didn’t want my parents to know I was found naked.)  He seemed to hold his breath momentarily as I dressed.  That’s when I realized I would have to wait until he was done.  Only then would he leave, hopefully.  I surely couldn’t make it past him to the door or the block of knives in the kitchen.

At one point I reached for my phone casually.  But he began to yell.

“What are you doing?  Who are you talking to? Are you telling someone?  You can’t tell anyone any of this!”

I would ruin the prophecy if I did.  Or get him into trouble with the other vampires.

I remember turning my head to the window briefly at one point, wondering if I would need to signal for help.  He got even more upset.

“How dare you disrespect me! I’m talking to you!”

I somehow made it through 40 minutes.  He eventually wound down and decided to leave, but not before warning me again not to tell anyone.

I can’t describe to you all how this encounter has made me feel.  I’ve naturally ended contact with Gil, but am still debating whether or not I should tell a family member of his.  While I do know enough about schizophrenia to recognize this as an episode, I’m wondering about the sexual dysfunction?  Clearly he’s not on medication so that isn’t the culprit, and its never been an issue before.

Lastly I’m wondering if anyone has had an experience like this?  Or a worst “first time” than mine?  Not only do I feel traumatized by the actual event but incredibly depressed about losing Gil.  He left angry, with no intention of seeing me again.  And I imagine the only way I ever will is if he gets some treatment and then looks me up.  It’s so strange to think I’ll never see him again when I spent a year completely infatuated.  I have no idea how to get any closure?


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