Sex when you’re sad: A low-energy pleasure toolkit

By Lou Forrester

Sex is my favorite thing in the whole wide world. Having it, talking about it, reading about it…I think that sex and sexuality are the coolest things about the human experience. So I was surprised and concerned when I began forgetting to masturbate at night and generally missing my usual drive to seek out my next orgasm as enthusiastically as I’d seek out my next tasty dinner. Tasty dinners were also less exciting, for that matter.

When the therapist I’d been seeing for anxiety told me that my loss of interest in pleasure, aka “anhedonia,” was a sign of depression, I was confused. My experience didn’t match my understanding of clinical depression, but as I read more about the different ways clinical depression can take shape, I saw myself reflected back. A loss of interest in things that normally bring you pleasure is a common symptom. For me, a loss of enthusiasm for deep fried foods and daily orgasms was a huge red flag.

As I worked with my therapist to understand and treat my depression, I also built up a toolkit to help myself access pleasure under the new framework of less frequent and different-looking desires. My sex drive wasn’t gone, and fried food wasn’t less delicious, but my cravings for them, and my once-easy access to the feelings of joy they brought me, seemed muffled.

Everyone’s experience of desire looks different, but I’m excited to share my low-energy pleasure toolkit. I hope it helps you figure out what will work for you.

The Low Energy Pleasure Toolkit

1. Identify your comfort zone

What kinds of pleasure are easy to access and often satisfying for you? When you’re experiencing anhedonia, it’s easy to forget what pleasure even feels like. Try sitting down and journaling about what kinds of pleasure you’ve enjoyed most before, and especially types of pleasure that felt grounding or especially comfortable/joyful.

For me, that includes: (1) naked snuggling with my partner while we watch movies; (2) masturbating with a wand vibrator while reading erotica online, and (3) missionary position sex with my partner while telling each other fantasies.

There are loads more things that I like in the big wide universe of sex, but those are three things that feel especially comfortable and are easier for me to get into when my energy is feeling low. Some other things that I really love, like a carefully planned scene with bondage and role play, or masturbating to porn videos, often require more planning and energy for me, and I’m less likely to be in the mood for it when my energy is low. By knowing a few comfort zone items, I can start with those when asking myself what I’m in the mood for.

2. Extending invitations instead of making goals

I used to be a big To-Do list person. It helped me feel organized, and I got a dopamine hit each time I crossed something off. With a loss of energy, motivation, and pleasure, though, the to-do list felt like a list of tiny failures. Then I tried something new.

Instead of a to-do list, I make invitations. I now keep a daily list of invitations for myself, called “awesome options.” It felt cheesy at first but it really helped, because it took away one element of guilt.

I was putting pressure on myself by accident. But having the list of options for each day serves as a reminder that I can opt in. So when I’m feeling listless and unmotivated, it’s like an invitation from past me to give it a try.

My old to-do list was mostly chores, but the new options list includes pleasure–tasty snacks, masturbation, and specific activity ideas to propose doing with my partner. When I look at the list throughout the day, especially when feeling listless or unmotivated, seeing “movie snuggle time,” “masturbate,” and “tater tots” written out gives me a chance to evaluate what sounds nice, and can help me identify my ongoing interest in pleasure even though the desire is quieter than before.

3. Save the date: holding space and time to invite pleasure in.

I was surprised to learn how easily my busy schedule (and distractions) swallowed up the time I used to make for masturbation and partnered sex. I didn’t notice it at the time, but I used to go to bed early with enough time to masturbate before sleep because I was so excited to jerk off at the end of the day. On dates, I would consult my partner about their desires for the date and we would build in time on purpose for sex, often at the start of the date, like before going out to dinner, or spend the whole date moving from one planned sex event to the next, like role play to a bondage scene to a set timer to have as many G-spot orgasms as possible in an hour.

Without the same sex drive that I had pre-depression, I needed to make time for sex. I found that it was helpful to go through the motions of holding space for sex even if the outcome was that I identified that I wasn’t interested. By maintaining that routine, I noticed that I actually did want to have sex some of the time. When I didn’t, it was helpful to normalize my lack of interest by noticing it and welcoming that choice without shame or embarrassment.

Now, my partner and I check in with each other while snuggling or kissing and verbally ask about interest in sex, without any expectation or pressure. I’ve retrained myself to treat masturbation as part of my bedtime routine, and on nights that I just don’t feel like it, I notice and opt out, which helps me see patterns of my own behavior and understand myself better. I’ve learned, for example, that for me, it’s not unusual to not feel like masturbating one night every week or so, but if I don’t feel like masturbating several nights in a row, that’s unusual and might be worth mentioning to my therapist as a symptom.

4. Set the table

Have things ready to go so that if you choose to opt in, it’s waiting for you, and you won’t have to lose momentum getting set up. This could mean making sure your favorite vibrator is always charged up and tucked under your pillow, keeping condoms on hand, always having the waterproof sex blanket laundered and nearby, etc.

For me, I keep my Hitachi Magic Wand plugged in and ready on my bedside table next to my 32 oz. pump bottle of The Slippery Stuff lube, and I bring my laptop and earbuds to bed with me in case I feel like watching porn.

5. Go easy on yourself! Opting out is not a failure.

An invitation is only an invitation if it’s truly optional. If you start and stop, or you don’t want to start at all, that’s a beautiful moment of you listening to your body, your energy, and most importantly, your desire.

Here are a few sample scripts that I use for myself and with partners when I don’t want to do something that I’d planned on or that the other person thought might happen:

• “The moment has passed for me.”
• “I’m not interested right now.”
• “It makes me so happy that you want to have sex! I’m not there right now, but please keep inviting me.”
• “I know that you won’t take it personally when I say no, so your invitations feel good.”

You have a lifetime of pleasure ahead of you, and your interests and desire are going to ebb and flow throughout it. I hope that this toolkit can help you identify some comfortable ways to keep pleasure close and accessible when you’re feeling low.

Lou Forrester is a transgender health activist and advocate. Lou’s background includes accompanying transgender patients to the emergency room to help navigate care and coordinating medical care and community support for transgender, intersex, and HIV positive prisoners. He’s a member of an all-trans collective that hosts DIY sex parties and writes sex trivia for a weekly pubquiz.