This was written sometime in September 2024.
It is something my therapist and I realised was an effect due to the C-PTSD. It doesn’t happen often but it does happen enough to notice.
Emotional Overwhelm After an Orgasm? Hello, Postcoital Dysphoria (PCD)
As women, we’re often taught that sex should be a source of pleasure, connection, and fulfilment. It’s supposed to be a time when we let go of our worries and immerse ourselves in the moment. But what happens when those moments of intimacy are followed by unexpected tears? What happens when, instead of feeling content and satisfied, we find ourselves crying uncontrollably after an orgasm? This is my experience with postcoital dysphoria (PCD), and I know I’m not alone in this.
For a long time, I struggled to understand why I would cry after an orgasm. It didn’t make sense to me, especially when I was by myself. It felt like my body was betraying me, turning what should have been a moment of release and pleasure into one of sadness and confusion. It wasn’t until I started learning more about PCD and its connection to trauma that I began to make sense of what I was going through.
In this post, I want to share my journey with PCD, how it intersects with my history of trauma, and offer some insights for other women who might be feeling alone in their experiences. I’ll also explore the difference between PCD and subdrop—a concept more familiar within BDSM communities in the hopes of helping others find clarity, support, and understanding.
Postcoital Dysphoria (PCD)
Postcoital dysphoria, or PCD, is the experience of feeling sadness, anxiety, irritability, or even crying after sexual activity, including after an orgasm. It’s not something that’s often talked about, and because of that, it can feel incredibly isolating. However, the truth is, many women experience PCD even if they don’t always talk about it.
PCD can happen for a variety of reasons. For some, it might be linked to hormonal changes that occur after orgasm. For others, it could be tied to the emotional vulnerability that comes with intimacy. And for many, myself included, it can be connected to past trauma. Understanding the root of these feelings is the first step toward accepting them and finding ways to manage them.
My Experience with PCD & Trauma
My journey with PCD is deeply intertwined with my history of sexual and relationship trauma. Living with complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) means that my brain and body sometimes react to intimacy in ways that are rooted in past pain rather than present pleasure. Even when I’m in a safe, loving environment, the ghosts of past experiences can linger, showing up in ways that are unexpected and often confusing.
When I experience PCD, it feels like a wave of emotions crashing over me; emotions that I can’t quite identify or explain. It’s as if my body is remembering something that my mind doesn’t fully grasp. These moments often leave me feeling vulnerable, sad, and even ashamed. And when this happens while I’m alone, the feelings can be even more intense.
Being alone during these moments magnifies the sense of isolation. There’s no one there to provide comfort or to remind me that it’s okay to feel this way. Instead, I’m left with my own thoughts, which can be harsh and critical. The embarrassment I feel after crying alone is something I’m still working to overcome, but I’m learning that it’s okay to give myself grace and compassion in these moments.
PCD vs. Subdrop
For those who are part of BDSM communities, subdrop is a concept that might be more familiar. Subdrop refers to the emotional and physical low that can occur after a BDSM scene, especially for those in a submissive role. During a scene, the submissive partner might experience a surge of endorphins, adrenaline, and oxytocin—the body’s natural chemicals that create feelings of euphoria and connection. But when the scene ends, these chemicals can drop suddenly, leading to feelings of sadness, vulnerability, or exhaustion.
While both PCD and subdrop involve a sudden emotional shift after an intense experience, they are different in context and cause. Subdrop is directly related to the hormonal and psychological effects of a BDSM scene. It’s something that’s often anticipated and prepared for within the BDSM community, with aftercare playing a crucial role in helping the submissive partner come down gently from the high.
PCD, on the other hand, is more often linked to the emotional aftermath of sexual activity and orgasm, which might not involve BDSM dynamics at all. It can happen in any sexual context—whether you’re alone or with a partnerand it’s often unexpected, making it harder to prepare for or understand. The key difference lies in the context and the emotional triggers involved.
Seeking Solitude & Finding Support
As someone who has been absorbing a lot of emotional energy from others lately, combined with the challenges of minor withdrawal symptoms from medication, I’ve reached a point where I feel like I need some solitude. It’s not about isolating myself but rather about creating a space where I can process my emotions without the added pressure of external expectations.
Solitude has become a necessary part of my self-care routine, especially when my usual methods of self-care aren’t enough to help me decompress. During these times, I focus on activities that allow me to reconnect with myself in a gentle, non-judgemental way. Whether it’s through listening to soothing music, engaging in simple creative activities, or just sitting quietly with my thoughts, I’m learning to give myself permission to feel whatever comes up.
However, solitude doesn’t mean going through this alone. One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is the value of sharing my experiences with others. Whether it’s through writing, talking to a therapist, or confiding in a trusted friend, opening up about my struggles has been a crucial part of my healing journey. There’s power in vulnerability, and by sharing our stories, we can create a sense of connection and understanding.
If you’re experiencing PCD, know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to seek out support. Whether it’s through online communities, therapy, or simply talking to someone who understands, there are resources available to help you navigate these emotions.
Creating a Safe Space for Yourself
One of the challenges of dealing with PCD is finding ways to create a safe, comforting space for yourself when these emotions arise. Over time, I’ve discovered a few strategies that help me feel more grounded and supported during these moments.
Grounding Techniques:
When I feel the wave of emotions starting to build, I try to focus on grounding myself in the present moment. This might involve deep breathing exercises, focusing on the sensations in my body, or using a comforting object like a fluffy blanket or a soft pillow to help me feel more secure.
Gentle Activities:
Engaging in low-effort, comforting activities can be a great way to distract myself from the intensity of my emotions. This might include colouring, listening to a favourite audiobook, or doing simple, repetitive tasks like playing with sensory-friendly materials.
Self-Compassion:
One of the most important aspects of managing PCD is practising self-compassion. This means allowing myself to feel whatever comes up without judgement. It means reminding myself that it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to feel sad, and it’s okay to need a break.
In conclusion, crying after an orgasm isn’t something that’s often talked about, but it’s a real experience that many women face. Whether it’s tied to past trauma, emotional release, or something else entirely, your feelings are valid. Understanding the difference between PCD and subdrop can also help in finding the right support and self-care strategies.
If you’re experiencing PCD, I encourage you to explore what might be behind those emotions and to reach out for support if you need it. You’re not alone in this journey, and together, we can create a space where all aspects of our emotional and sexual experiences are acknowledged and respected.