PYMADS, or, Call me Pym

PYMADS stands for: Polyamorous Yankee Married to an Alcoholic in the Deep South...or I'll go by Pym for short...hence Pym's Escape.

I'm in love with two men, neither who yet knows I'm blogging, though it's not just about them. Somehow, as a Yankee I've ended up in the Deep South, married to another exile from the North who happens to be an alcoholic.

I'll call him Spencer, [names will be changed for CYA purposes] NOT after that milque-toast pseudo-celebrity, but after the Spencer Tracy/Kate Hepburn love affair: equal-minded, intelligent souls involved in unconventional love, and he a raging alcoholic or so I've heard. Doomed somehow, but timeless. If only I looked like her...

I'm married to and in love with Spencer, a handsome troubled soul, who is loving and solicitous to me, and has the libido of [his favorite phrase]: a "three-balled Tomcat". From the first, though our new sex-life was exceptional, we knew we would be an unconventional couple, and though we didn't know the word yet: polyamorous. I had strayed in a past marriage and swore I would never do it again. Knowing how much we both enjoy physical loving intimacy, and knowing a human-being's penchant to not be monogamous, we were honest from the beginning that we'd eventually take the open marriage route.

We dabbled in "swinging" and realized it wasn't for us. Too loose and free for us and too hurtful, as we'd develop feelings for others who wanted only the physical. We started looking into polyamory, of which there are almost infinite degrees. Into that philosophy of love and life we've carved our own little niche.

I realize most people would think that all this dabbling would be a death-knell to a marriage. Actually the polyamory has been a blessed outlet for us both. It's the least cause of tension in our marriage. That honor goes to alcoholism.

Spencer didn't start drinking until his early 20s, which makes me think, if he made it all through his teen years without drinking, why even start?? But his traumatic childhood and genetics caught up with him, and now he has this one more demon on his back. It's a strong reason why our polyamory gives us both an escape from day-to-day responsibilities. And me an escape from the drunkenness.

He's a wonderful person, Spencer, and when sober is my soul-mated Dr. Jekyll...when drunk, a raving Mr. Hyde. How do I deal with it? Mostly with love, some Al-Anon meetings, support from Spencer's girlfriend Amanda [more on her in another post], friends, now-thin patience, xanax, port, and Cary: the other man I love.

Cary's marriage is also an open one, though I'm not convinced it's without some problems of its own. I try to not press him for any details; I just want to be his escape as he's mine. I try to not let him know of the "drama" in my life, though I'm sure he does. I feel like the less baggage I bring into our relationship, the longer it will last. He's sweet and soft, very sexual but also very shy. I liken Spencer to a thick multi-layered devil's food cake; Cary is the lickable butter-cream frosting on top...more tenuous in structure, but I could bathe in a vat of that frosting.

Have I stayed on my opening topic? I am a PYMADS who is trying to stay sane in a still-somewhat-strange, judgmental culture. But it's all life, isn't it? Love, life, sharing, compassion, paychecks and bootstraps. And xanax.