I apologize for letting my blog be taken over by penile spammers.
At least a man can hide his shame in his pants, whereas women can't help but display the size of their tits. And don't think it doesn't matter--studies show women with big ones have more power and get promoted more often, yada yada.
Hard not to sexualize an object at some level.
I would report on myself and say this: I suffer from abulia. I lack will, will to live, will to act. I have no remedy but get lots of advice. I don't know what to do with myself. Bored out of my mind and no real work. Washing the dishes is the greatest demand, and taking out the trash, and walking the dog.
The less I do, the less I can do. It is a paralyzing spiral. Actually getting online today was a big exception. Typing something even more daring. I seem to lack the courage to engage in life. I have taken infantile denial to a new level. If I close my eyes the world does not exist. Yet it doesn't work entirely; I know the world exists though I close my eyes in the hope it will not bite me, but I see its slavering fangs through the pink tissue of my eyes, and I know I am being eaten up.