A One Man Nudist Colony 


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I was completely naked for the better part of an entire year. I wore no clothes. None.  Now, before you file this post away on your “too much information” (TMI) blacklist, first let me promise to keep the intimate stuff to a minimum. That being said, some stuff may be unavoidably revealed. It’s kind of inevitable when talking about being naked.

What people don’t often realize, and perhaps they don’t want to, is that sick people spend a ridiculous amount of time naked. Why? It feels sexy. No, I’m joking (although it does feel a little sexy). There are actually a number of legitimate reasons. Putting on clothes can take a lot of energy, muscle strength, flexibility, and joint mobility. In my case, an obscenely impaired blood pressure and blood volume made it nearly impossible for me to move my body enough to get clothing over my head let alone my extremities.

Another reason is hygiene. Even if I was able to get clothes on my body, the physical repercussions would have been so intense it’s safe to say those clothes wouldn’t have come off until I had regained my strength days, or even weeks later. And that, of course, would mean bathing with clothing on, which I’m not sure if you’ve tried, but it’s just about the least amount of fun you can have with clothes on, and is also probably the least amount of fun you can have while bathing. How do I know, you ask? Oh, I tried it. A few times. And I stubbornly learned that bathing with clothes on, and then leaving them on, is undeniably more miserable than smelling like a dumpster for a week.

I also briefly tried wearing button down shirts. I soon ran into the trouble of getting my arms through the sleeves, so I had someone cut the sleeves off a bunch of old Tommy Bahama shirts from the thrift store. And just like that I looked like Rick “Wild Thing” Vaughn from the movie Major league, rocking a sleeveless tuxedo. Unfortunately it was the tacky floral patterned shirts made for middle aged men that ultimately turned me away, and I soon returned to my life as a nudist.

So I resolved to remain in my own personal nudist colony for a few more months until IV treatments helped my blood pressure, and in turn, allowed me to finally keep some damn clothes on. And I have to say it felt really good. I felt like a human again. So every day after washing up, I would struggle to get a pair of boxers around my hips. This was particularly difficult because I couldn’t lift my hips off the mattress.

I should say, however, prior to resuming my life as a clothed person, I did occasionally allow visitors into my den of nudism. But these guests, fortunately or not, were always wearing clothes. And sorry to ruin the facade, but I was almost always covered by a sheet. Darn.

Still, even in the moment, the ridiculousness of the situation was ripe and often very comical. Once, during a visit from someone very special, I felt the need to have a little fun. No, not that kind of fun. Get your mind out of the gutter. The visitor was a good friend from college, during which time we had a running joke about helping each other bleach a certain unmentionable body part notorious for getting soiled. You don’t like where this is going, do you? Yeah sorry, so much for leaving out the intimate stuff. Maybe I’m the one who needs to get his head out of the gutter.

So my buddy arrived, and naturally the first words out of his mouth were, “Hey man! I’m here for the bleaching.” Now, normally I would have gone with the joke and immediately simulated getting undressed while telling him I was ready for the procedure, but there were two problems: I couldn’t talk and I was already naked. So instead I shifted the sheet off my upper thigh, and then, after five solid minutes of tracing letters on his hand, I was able to convey that I was already naked and ready for the bleaching. “Bring on the bleach!” I said.

Ha hmm. Anyway, where was I going with that story again? Yes, right, I was naked for a year. But recently I started feeling better and I’m once again back to wearing clothes. I have discovered linen shorts, which are just about the comfiest things, besides pajamas, that I’ve ever worn. And I’ve found that my old tank tops from the gym are much easier to get on than a normal t-shirt or, say, a Tommy Bahama shirt with pink hibiscuses.

Overall, I must say, it’s wonderful to wear clothes again. Why? It feels sexy, of course.

15 thoughts on “A One Man Nudist Colony ”

  1. Angelique van Braak- van Remundt

    Thanks for being so open about … you know. Being naked, a nudist, feeling sexy and that naked part made me giggle! Your writing is great! You are capable to put humor in your story and at the same time I read your battle with the pain and other symptomes of severe ME. I think you are a brave young man who still woun’t give up the battle.
    Thanks for the tips how not to waste energy 😜 and in my case feeling sexy at age 49 😆😆

  2. Hee Hee…. made me giggle… well done Jamison on getting your modesty covered up again…lol… Hibiscus Flowered shirts… bet you secretly loved them! 😜 Lovely to read some lighthearted stories from your time, you have such a wonderful outlook. With you in every step. xx Sheona (in Ireland)

  3. Oh what fun. Putting on clothes is part of the work of hauling out of bed. NOW WHAT? I have to put socks on first because my feet hurt if I don’t wear them. I set those on the dresser. Baggy top and bottom on my dresser. Anything I might want is on my dresser . It looks like litter, but oh well. These days, that’s about it. Then I get downstairs – slowly, get my pills, coffee and sit at the computer for too much time, then I go back up to write for the day. Since you are a writer with a brain on fire (not), you know how long it takes to convince your brain to simply behave. It takes me an hour or two. It is something I am used to, but that does not mean I like it. Oh what fun.

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  5. Yours is an incredible story and this in particular is a unique perspective – and a great topic for a blog post. Good luck in your ongoing recovery. Like my own weight loss journey, it’s a one-day-at-a-time thing.

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  7. The Naked Truth.
    My Man, once again you have turned your difficult experience into a revealing perspective.
    And you’ve turned the already interesting subject of nudity into a surprisingly creative short story – where feeling the sexiness of being clothed is wonderfully acknowledged, along with so many important chronic illness issues.
    Much appreciation from a fellow writer.

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