This may not seem like the place to post this, but please indulge me as I know I will at least find empathy among r/mensrights. Perhaps this may serve as the foundation for a case study of the modern male.

I'm a 56 year-old male. I've been divorced for 11 years after 18 years of marriage. I pay retirement alimony from the military of which she receives 50%. Short story - I was married to a woman with Histrionic Borderline Personality Disorder who self medicated, and was an alcoholic. The only reason I stayed in the marriage was to provide for my daughter, protect her, and maintain stability in her life. To that end I was successful. She is now married and we are very close. I had also hoped to help my wife. When she wasn't "unstable," she was actually a beautiful person to be around... fun, playfully witty, compassionate and caring (and I truly did love her despite her making my life a nightmarish existence). However, when her "sickness kicked in, she injured everyone in her path. After a doctor explained to me that there was nothing I could do to help her, and in fact it was his experience that this worsens with age - particularly when there is alcohol involved, I knew I had to get out just to save my own sanity. I never cheated on her, though I had to suffer through her multiple, extra-marital affairs. By 2003, I could not tolerate it any longer. The drinking, promiscuity and self destructiveness was all I could stand and I filed for divorce. Naturally I lost nearly everything as one might expect in a "no fault" state, plus 50% of my military retirement.

So, now to the point. Since then I have avoided women. The years of conditioning and walking on eggshells left me fearful of the opposite sex. I simply cannot envision being in another relationship ever again. The notion terrifies me at the visceral level. When looking at a woman, I sometimes wonder... who knows what maniacal psychosis is lurking behind those attractive eyes? Now I live alone, avoid socializing altogether, battle depression constantly (The Drugs Don't Work), pine over lost memories, and contemplate suicide daily. I cover it up well at work and around family like good-time Charlie, but underneath, when I'm at home alone with my thoughts - in complete anonymity - I feel like someone still grieving the death of a loved one, only much deeper than that. I would argue that there is no word in English to describe this emotional condition.

This isn't simply depression. There's something else afoot. Sometimes it wakes me in the night when I turn to touch that person who is no longer there. I often experience sickeningly painful sensations as memories flood in, and my body recalls the intimate feel and sensations of a woman's touch and soft embrace. The need to experience these physical sensations of sexual companionship are so overwhelming, the thought of never experiencing it again for the remainder of my life borders dangerously close to suicidal ideation.

The latest suicide report puts men (and women) in my age range at the highest risk. Is that so surprising? We are all human - male and female. We are a gregarious species by nature. While stuffy intellectuals bother over scientific analysis in determining whether humans "pair-bond" or not, they may go on scratching their collective asses and eat my shorts. Of course humans pair bond! Damn! The fact that our social behavior - along with the help of technology - has altered our social perceptions so far as to ask that question, means we suffer from sexual companionship far more than we probably realize.

Abraham Maslow identified it as a base human need. Without it - along with air, water, food and sleep - we die. It's the way it is. A human can only suffer emotionally for so long before something must be done about it to suppress an urge that becomes painful. Masturbation? Lots of hugs? Humping a lovedoll? Just more abstinence? I think not. There is something else happening within the body when a man and woman join and there's a mutual need being shared and fulfilled. For those like me who are suffering from what we feel is loneliness, take heart. First, you're not alone. Second, your not crazy. Your body is screaming out for authentic and intimate companionship. Touchy-feely? You decide - oh gentlemen of MGTOW and the like. How long do you think you can hold your breath? For me, I think both men and women have a bigger problem to settle between ourselves. Which of the sexes can go longest without oxygen? And, in a country known for it's mid-Victorian, sexual and puritanical intolerance, my best option - besides suicide - is to quickly buy a ticket to the Netherlands where I can be treated for this painful medical condition without shame.

Edit: The "bot copy" (which came as some surprise btw) will differ only slightly in grammatical quality as I went back in to fix mistakes.