How stubborn?

I've been thinking for some time of writing a letter to God. It would start something like, "Dear Lord, my life is an absolute mess. I have no idea who I am or how I got here, all I know is it sure doesn't feel like the me I want to be or even the me I know. I don't feel like I can go on like this ..." It's when I get to this point that I start that old familiar mantra, "I know, I know, I HAVE to turn my will and my life over to God. I have to give in to God's will for my life and be sober enough to listen for it." And the old Southern gospel hymn of my childhood begins playing in my head, "I surrender all ... I surrender all, all to you my precious Savior, I surrender all."

But then that little voice .. the scared one, the one that thinks it can fix anything ... the one that just will not give up, kicks in and says "Yes, but ... " and "What about?"

The "what about" today is a man I've had an ongoing relationship with since summer. He was the one holdout in that series of five letters I wrote a few weeks ago saying, "I'm done for good, I'm focused on my marriage." He is the one I left the door open to and the one who walked back through it last week. As Gomer Pyle says, "Sooprize, Sooprize, Sooprize."

If anyone wants to believe that addiction, sex and love addiction is not a disease of the mind, tell me this: what good is a limp-dicked (literally) man, who can only describe love as "the L word" and has far more attraction to transgendered men than to women themselves to a female sex & love addict 16 years his junior? Yet, somehow, for this person and my obessive thoughts about how I can make him love me enough, I can't give up my stubborn will. Insane much??

So, I prayed this morning for the willingness to be willing to turn my life over, shed a few tears and prepared for a job interview I have later today.

Again and again

I was looking back at some earlier posts and discovered this Farewell to a Potential Lover. It's not unlike letters I've written again and again over the past few years. It's not much different than the letters I wrote this week.
I have absolutely no idea to whom this letter was written. I don't recall any of the cirumstances of our discussions. I don't even know if I cut him off because I lost interest and gave him a line of crap to get rid of him or if I was really in one of those phases of trying to "break free." But I do remember that I simply was obsessed with writing this letter. I couldn't go on until it was written. And so here it is three years later, a reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
When they say addiction is "cunning, baffling and powerful," they sure aren't kidding.

A letter to help someone else

Dear D,

I have given a lot of thought to the letter I am about to write. I write it out of understanding, not judgment.

You put yourself at a major risk this week when you sent me those erotic photos and video under your real name. (Name removed), Louisiana, to quote you is a "small town." And sometimes the United States is even a small town. As it so happens, you sit on a committee (according to a 1 minute Google search of your name) with a long-time friend of mine.

Had another person, a poser or even worse, someone insane -- been on the receiving end of those photos, or for that matter someone who was actually in (your town), this could have been disastrous for you. I'm pretty certain you probably have a wife, otherwise you would be online at night. Even if you don't ... I know you have a good job, and a good reputation, and if you were telling me the truth, a daughter.

I also know what overwhelming, obsessive sexual desire is like ... feeling like no matter what needs to be done in the "real world," no matter what is at risk, you have to get that "high." It feels like you can't live without it. I can see this in you, because you know all the tricks ... You have perfected it all. You know how to find the woman who can address all facets of your fantasy life. You're good at it and you can't live without it.

I also know what it's like to want to be loved and cared for and also to be hurt and used and demoralized. I know all of this, because it is my life too. I am addicted to sex in the same way that men and women are addicted to cocaine, gambling, whiskey and all other vices. I will do any thing for it, that little taste of heavenly high, but it is ruining my life, my marriage, my sanity. Despite all my efforts of trying to heal from years of childhood sexual abuse, I will always find my way to men like you ... who need to control and own and manipulate, because of their own pain ... and make me feel like small helpless child. Or to men like you who need to be used ... so that I can make myself feel like my abuser. It's what made that slap the other day feel so fucking good. I wanted to use you and hurt you and scream "How could you possibly be like every other fucking man on the earth who tells me he loves me just so he can hurt me?" Over and over and over ... I find men like you, so that I can continue to hurt myself.

I don't expect you to tell me your story ... I just wanted to tell you mine, so you would know I understand, and also to send up a cry for you to please get help before, like so many other men I have seen, you get yourself into a holy horrible mess. I am not one to share with you the successes of such help, because I'm clearly in relapse ... but, getting involved in therapy and more importantly a support group for sex addicts saved my ass four years ago. In all this moving, I have let a lot of things go ... and boredom and loneliness are two of my major triggers for the addiction -- thus you found me, throwing out hooks (online). This group www.slaafws.org meets in (your town) and is a place where you can find help and other people like you. For a list of meetings in the area ... send an e-mail to (address removed). It's a completely anonymous fellowship. There are others like it: http://www.sca-recovery.org/ which has online meetings. There is http://www.saa-recovery.org which meets tonight in (your town) at 7:30 p.m. at St. Mary's.

Again, none of this is an attempt to judge you or control you or even tell you what to do. I'm just telling you my story and sharing with you the information I have.

You seem like a very kind and caring man. I am the same. But I am filled with demons that won't leave alone.