I’m reading this book, and while discussing the early history of depression and diagnosis, the author writes:
“Rufus found melancholy patients also suffered buildup of unreleased sexual fluids, whose putrefaction infected the brain… Galen shared Rufus’ belief in disastrous consequences of deficient sexual release. He treated one of his female patients, whose brain, he believed, was troubled by the noxious fumes of her rotting unreleased sexual fluids, ‘with a manual stimulation of the vagina and of the clitoris and the patient took great pleasure from this, much liquid came out, and she was cured.’”
So there you go — I’m not depressed, I just really need to be fingered by my therapist.
I may be having non-therapist sex fairly soon (fingers crossed, legs not so much). So here’s hoping that release will be its own form of mood stabilizer.
Smug Singleton 