Happy Tuesday

I'm back from the trip to Maine and have spent the day doing catch up chores and getting ready for my niece's visit, beginning tomorrow. It's good to be away from work. Being in the mountains and near the ocean was very relaxing this weekend as well and some quiet time with my husband was appreciated. I think we both were pretty present with one another -- he wasn't distracted by work, and me with all my 1 million distractions. That was nice. We had conversations about whether or not to make a move, based on a job offer he got last week from his former boss. We're inclined to go, and I'm feeling positive about making a break. However, a final decision will depend upon the answers to some questions we came up with for his former and potentially future boss.

So .. what I really sat down here to write is this: I'm running around here today, doing chores, cleaning, doing laundry, marking things off the to do list more slowly than I'd like to be doing, and I start to clean off the table that sits in front of the couch (I won't call it a coffee table, because it's always so piled up the image of a coffee table doesn't fit.). On the table is a book I bought for my husband a couple of months back called "Ghosts in the Bedroom." He hasn't read much of it, but I started reading a few things. And after reading about how victims of sexual abuse often have compulsive eating disorders, compulsive sexual disorders, are triggered by certain touches, face lots of issues about confronting the abuser, understanding the abuser, on and on ... I feel like a ton of lead. It's payback I suppose for offering too much unsolicited advice to a friend who has been suffering from depression lately --a reminder that these feelings of the world just being too heavy to deal with are real. I'm sure these feelings will pass, but I would rather have enjoyed a few more days of peace and quiet rather than think about the truly enormous mountain I have to climb. Some days I can convince myself that my sex and love addiction is all I have to work on and that everything else will fall into place. But the fact is, my s and l addiction is just the beginning. In fact, this particular book was saying 3-5 years of therapy and group work is usually needed to heal from the abuse itself. Great!

Ah, well, it could be worse. I could have spent the entire day today looking for some man on the Internet to have sex with. Instead, I'll probably just eat three or four cookies. Happy F*ckn Tuesday, Ya'll.

A letter to an old friend

I'm glad you went to the doctor and are taking some medication that is helping you to feel better. Although I didn't face what you did, I have beens suffering pretty severely from depression for over a year now. It's been pretty tough on me. The feelings of loneliness and isolation have almost done me in. Like you, I'm on meds now, but because of the anti-seizure meds, I have to take a pretty low dosage of Prozac, which does the trick most days. Other days I simply have to live through it -- force myself to go to work, even if I don't get anything done; to try to remain present.
I'm truly sorry I could not be there for you more than flowers and one phone call. I know you were hurting so much and that you must still hurt -- medication can't take reality away, only numb the effects. But for the first time in my life, I've realized that a lifetime of taking on everyone else's pain and never dealing with my own has started to kill me. I'm in therapy and part of a support group, which seems strange -- that I am turning to strangers when I can't bear the thought of picking up the phone and talking to the many friends who love me and who I love so much. Even a couple of times when I've tried to have conversations, it just doesn't work. I'm estranged from my family for the most part, except for my older sister and of course my niece.(She's coming to see me the week after the holiday I am happy about that.) So, things are a mess, but they are gettingbetter and until they get a lot better it's just the way it is right now. I have faith that it won't be this way forever. I realize I didn't get here overnight, and I won't get better overnight either.
My husband has been very supportive. He takes good care of me and makes sure I take care of myself as much as possible. Thankfully I have a job that is far less stressful than what I've had before, so while the lessened productivity has been noticed -- it hasn't been detrimental.
Know that I love you dearly, and no amount of depression could change that. In my heart, I hold you close and pray that you will continue to take care of yourself. Please do not worry about me. I did not tell you all this to make you worried. I wanted you to know what's going on. One of the greatest blessings of what I am dealing with is I have found a closer connection to the spiritual part of my life, something I've needed to do for a long time.

Today

Some days I just don't know how I make it through the day. I just want to close myself off from the world and then all I want to do is find someone to hold me. I push everything away from me and then I need someone to hold me.
I did it again today ... for the first time in months, I went online and found a stranger, intrigued with him and then was on the verge of agreeing to go to his house to finish what we had started. Thankfully, God intervened. I was protected. But not because I was trying.
I feel like it's all starting again. I don't understand why. I don't understand what I am not getting . I don't understand why the desire for sanity is not strong enough to make me move forward with true sobriety and serenity, rather than backward. It's all there, just waiting for me to take it and I am unable somehow to take hold. I want to sleep, I want to cry, I want to throw up. I do not want to be alive and aware of the way my life is going.
Last night I watched a movie about FDR and his struggles with polio. Before he entered the presidential arena, there was a scene where Kathy Bates, who plays his physical therapist, looks at him and tells him, "I met a boy today who is 7 years old. He's lost all feeling below his waist. Now go tell him why you, with a wife, an education, a future, and children, want to give up." I ask me these questions all the time. What the fuck is wrong with me? How could I -- the person who overcame great adversity to become successful -- want to throw all of that away to reckless abandon. There is a reason this is happening to me, but I'm not very happy about it today, God.
I listened to this man, who has just go through a painful divorce, tell me his story, and then I wanted to use him for my sick addictive patterns. I know full well that I will tell him I'd like to develop a relationship with a man, as a playmate, and then in a week, even if it takes that long, tell him, "Sorry, I was mistaken. I really do want to be faithful to my husband (not to mention my recovery program)."
I felt rejected by a close friend this morning. I know this must have started there. I feel like I am a farce in my program, because I don't feel like I am getting better in terms of my cyclical thinking and my ability to focus ... I just go through patterns of thinking this is all worthless, because I'm never going to be able to do it anyway. I think others can, but not me. I have been so successful in my life, why have I somehow convinced myself that I can never truly do anything right again?
I know I need to go back and start working on self-esteem and all that comes from taking care of myself, working on my obesity issues, finding ways to believe in myself. Right now, I just feel tired. One recovery friend told me ... "Face the addict, and don't let it get by with this shit!" How can I do that, when I am powerless.
It's a downer day. I'll make it through though ... without acting out any more than I already have. That is if God's willing. If he's not, I may have fucked 3 men by nightfall.

Life on the Road

After spending the first five hours of my workday stuck in the same spot in the middle of one of Pennsylvania's busiest interstates, I am finally at work. I left home at 6:30 a.m. and got to work at 11:50. You'd think I'd be pulling my hair out by now, but I'm not. I enjoyed sitting in the middle of highway where everything generally moves at 80 mph and feeling the quiet. I had some books in the car, including my Gentle Path through the Twelve Steps and Love is a Choice books. I also had my Writer magazine, and was prompted to write about my surroundings by an article I read in there. I enjoyed a conversation with an Asian truck driver who travels from Boston to the middle of PA each day and is on the road mainly 20 hours a day. My oldest brother was a long-haul trucker and I know the rough life these guys lead. I enjoyed watching three Hispanic truckers play a game with pennies, where they each took turns throwing the penny toward the median divider and whoever got closest to the edge collected all three pennies. Once you were out of pennies, you were out of the game. They laughed and cheered each other on. I laughed with them as they were playing just outside my car. I even contributed a penny to the game. They told me this was a game they used to play when they were kids. It made me feel good, and I think set the tone for my own mood, that they were not bitching and complaining about being on the road. They were just making the most of the time. I was very present during my whole time on the road. Even though as I woke up my head felt lost in circular thoughts, for five hours the world stopped and I enjoyed it. I'm thankful for that blessing.

One of the things I decided to do while working through the Gentle Path book was to start a focus group with some members of my face to face group are struggling through the same issues and are at about the same stage of recovery as I am. I contacted one of the guys from my group and he thought it was a great idea ... he was all for it. So, I think we will work together to get that started.

I've been living my life "in the middle" the past few days -- dealing with some irritations from my addict, but nothing overwhelming; dealing with some good feelings of my progress, but not over the top. Being in the middle is uncomfortable to me, because it's been a long time since I've been there -- if ever. But I have faith that I will begin to settle in if I don't get in my way, and if my HP's ready for that.

I did ultimately end up sending an instant message to J. -- the guy who is on my bottom lines to never contact again, because if I contact him life will be over, and I'll go back into the disease in full force, blah, blah, blah.

So, he messaged back ... and you know what? I was really upset at myself at first. Oh my God, this whole mess is just going to start over again, why can't I just take care of myself, I will never do a damn thing right in my life, cry, cry, cry. Then I called a recovery friend -- an accountability partner so to speak, (more clearly a gift from God every day) and confessed, intially in this shameful, guilty, "the world is over" state of mind. As we talked it through, though, I realized ... I didn't get a hit! In the whole conversation with this man who my addict has used as a lure over and over again, reminding me of how good the "active addict" life can be, I didn't get a single hit! I didn't think, "Oh if I could just be with him again or even one more time." We talked, but I didn't engage him sexually, just asked who he was seeing, how it was going, that I'd seen one of his former fucks. He tried to engage a bit, but I just didn't. And it wasn't because I was trying to resist -- it was because I just wasn't turned on. It was like I was catching up with someone I used to work with. For the first time, I saw him for what he is -- one long penis, with nothing else going for him. I saw clearly every "line" he threw out, I saw every lie he told. I saw every step he took.

And then to think I was thinking, I won't tell the truth -- that I was going to hide it because I was ashamed of myself for being weak. God gave me an amazing gift yesterday. I was able to see all the reasons I've gotten so far into my addict, because time and time again I've let myself be sabotaged by this voice that says you can't do it and you're not worth it anyway. Just keep having fun, what's the use trying anyway. You're trash and you'll always be trash, you are just pretending if you think differently.

If I had hidden this, I would have been giving into the addict, and not realized the truth. But when I showed this 'dirty secret' to the light of day, I saw the truth. It's amazing how the little idioms of this program "you are powerless," "you are only as dirty as your secrets," continue to reveal their truth to me. I love it and I am so thankful for those who are witness to my change.

OK... remember that nice e-mail you got this morning about me "taking care of myself" ... well, the reason I never say shit like that is because every time I do, it's like all forces that want to attack me come on at full force. They are mocking me ... "Do you really think you can actually do something right?"

While I made some very good food choices at lunch today, my sex and love addict was triggered in a major way that has left me feeling like I am about to come unglued. And this shit is so minor.

I was at a meeting with a printing company representative, along with another colleague. The fact that the woman was talking about the printing industry was enough for me to want to call G. who happens to own a printing company and talk to him, knowing that business would be the first, but certainly not the last thing we'd talk about.

Then who comes up as the waitress at the table next to ours but a woman that I know J. acted out with a couple of times. He was kind enough to tell me enough details about their encounter that they were all going through my mind, as I thought of how much better he and I were together than they ever could possibly have been ... all the while I'm supposed to actually be present in this luncheon meeting.

Oh, and I should mention that on the drive back ... the phone rings and shows a "restricted" number, which is what usually shows up for a couple of recovery friends but no one else. It was S. I am absolutely ashamed that I can actually write about three men who I slept with outside my marriage ... and more ashamed that that is only the beginning.

I could call someone right now, but I don't want to. I could pray, but I don't want to ...that's the same as calling someone. And I don't want to equates to me not taking care of myself. So this boils down to me taking a moment to make that choice.

OK, I'll pray and write the TRUTH and GRATITUDE of this whole scenario.

Which is:
1. I went to lunch at a nice restaurant with a nice business associate and my favorite colleague.
2. We had a waiter who was very attentive in his service to us.
3. The food was excellent and I made a healthy choice.
4. Even though both the other ladies at the table ordered a big piece of dessert, I skipped the urge.
5. Just when I thought I was going to lose my mind, a program friend called and I was at a point where I could politely excuse myself and take the call.
6. I did take care of myself and I can continue to do so.

A mission in life

Last night during my face to face meeting, a guy who has been coming to the meetings about the same amount of time I have shared that during a recent visit to his therapist he talked about all his addictions -- sex/love, food, work, money. He told the therapist when he is finished dealing with the SLA, he'll start on the next thing. The therapist told him it would be more wise to look at the underlying solution to all the problems. That solution was .. "Take care of yourself."

When I was managing editor of a community newspaper a few years ago, our newsroom made a committment that no matter what the competition was doing, our mission was to be that community's "hometown newspaper." Every decision we made surrounded that mission. We often had to pause and think, does this promote the mission? That pause helped us to evaluate the decision better and keep our committment to our community.

I have decided that my mission in recovery and in growth will be "Take Care of Yourself." As I am faced with decisions, however big or small they are, this will be my focus, my central point. Sometimes I will have to pause to evaluate the right choice, other times I may act before I think or pray enough and end up falling on my face, but over time the instinct will develop. The instinct to do something I have never done before -- take care of myself.

My first appointment with Carol

I made it to my first appt. with the psychotherapist today and I feel pretty good. We covered a lot of bases in the first appt. and I managed to convince her to take me on as a client. I felt like she "got" all the right things, and asked some good questions. We set up another appointment to talk further, but really didn't get into when and how we would do the diagnostic tests that I told her I was interested in.

She basically went over my most current history, as well as stuff about my sexual abuse. She got it that I was involved in very risky behavior as an addict, and she got it that my getting "caught" could have been a very devastating thing beyond just my marriage -- but also the reputation of my university and the longstanding effects of such a scandalous "outing" on my career. Although she was skeptical of my reasons for wanting to leave my current therapist, after I shared with her that my therapist had made me feel uncomfortable by continuously sharing about her own feelings about her own sexual abuse knowing I was a codependent, she said, "I had doubts you should leave her. Now I have no doubt that's not a good place for you to be." But before we got to that point, she asked me a very valid question ... "Is this just another way for you to run away?" I appreciated that.

I quizzed her on her experience working with sex addicts, sexual abuse victims, people in 12-step programs. I was satisfied with her answers to all of those. When I asked her if she believed in the effectiveness of 12-step programs she said that she certainly did, up to the point that the program becomes an addiction or an escape itself. Because I can sometimes see myself doing exactly that, I appreciated her answer.

So, let's see how it goes. I'll keep you posted.

My dirty mind

I have spent the better part of the morning either sleeping or in pretty deep despair. The cloud is slowly beginning to lift and I'm beginning to feel like more of a part of the universe.

When I start to try to think of explaining how I feel, what is in my mind, it makes me feel insane (uhh... that could be the first sign), it's just so jumbled. I think over time I have "stuffed" so much, given up so much of myself to one addiction or the other -- be it sex, food or codependence -- that my mind and soul have become like a dilapidated house filled with old, musty, filthy remnants; clothes and linens piled up in an corner, covered in cobwebs and dirt and dust, floorboards rotted, broken appliances and fixtures, dead rotted mice lying about and roaches sneaking out in the dark.

The image reminds me of the house my older sister and her family moved into after their house was destroyed by a tornado. Her husband was a drunk at the time and barely did anything to fix it ... but there were a few rooms that my niece fixed up, made pretty, the best she could. Still, it was barely held together. The inside of my head is like that house. I remember that my niece, who is four years younger than me and as close as a sister and a best friend rolled into one, felt "less than" living there. She was ashamed when the school bus stopped there. She felt she couldn't have certain friends because she could never invite them to her house to spend the night. She gave up a lot of her life because of her shame -- of her stepfather's drunken antics, a house that neither lived up to her potential or over which she had any control to fix.

For me, the shame of what's inside my head is covered up in my "parallel life" -- the life where I am the cheery, supportive, loving, hard working, good-hearted person that most people see. Inside I am empty. All this other "good" stuff is just a fresh coat of beautiful shiny paint, glistening in the sunshine. It's what I want to be and it's what I want others to see. But I feel rotten to the core, afraid to let anyone walk in the door. There are a few people who have made it into the living room, which has been made presentable, but no one, absolutely no one would ever make it into the attic (interestingly, I just wrote that as "addict" before I realized my mistake). My niece and I used to go into the attic of that old house when we wanted to get away from everyone. It was filled with other people's junk, left over from years and years ago, all dirty and nasty. It was scary. It felt haunted with "old spirits." I was afraid to go there alone. But with her, it was fine, we were OK and we had good talks or laughs or even fun.

There are a lot of parallels here ... and I'm glad I started to write. I know I can take my trusted recovery friends with me into the scary, ugly places and not feel ashamed, because it is the love and fellowship that is between us that matters. And with support, slowly I can begin to rebuild -- making clean, clear and beautiful all the areas of my life that have been lost to shame and self-rejection.

It's interesting that I was talking recently with a recovery friend about the gender of my addict, when I realized that the luring male personification of my addict is actually the face, smile, laugh, and feelings associated with my last lover, the guy I slipped with in Feb. and the man who I have been mentally planning to slip with again. I think the somehow the process of going through the decision to not act out is what lead me to these feelings of despair this morning. My spoiled addict was throwing its hissy fit, and in rejection, the addict has no personification at all ... it is simply what it is ... an "it." One day I hope it will become a part of the accepted whole of me, recognized for its contributions and kept in check when it tries to make the rest of me feel 'less than."

Reading some of the posts on my support board about resentment recently, made me think of this thing that Maya Angelou said:

“History, despite its horror, cannot be undone. But when faced with courage it need not be lived again.”

There are a lot of things I don't want to live through again. I got what I needed the first time, thank you. Like many of the rest of my fellow addicts, I have resentment not just against my FOO, but against a whole host of other things. I won't even begin to post them here ... but I can tell you that I resent being an addict. I resent it with a passion. And there's a lot of blame associated with that. I have to let go of both the resentment and the blame in order not to relive the feelings and continue to feed my addict exactly what it wants. Because if I'm honest, realizing I'm an addict is an amazing miracle.

I went to an SA meeting yesterday morning, and in there they read the AA big book. I noticed that in a description of the 4th step in the "How it Works" chapter they actually used resentments as the guide to get started working on the 4th step. I'm edging toward working on the 4th step, and I was glad to see this suggestion for working through the step. It called for the addict to list the person or situation, the cause of the resentment, and I believe the third column was the behaviors which that resentment evoked. (Someone who has the book or who has done this exercise, please correct me if I am wrong.) Slowly bit by bit, I have been edging toward this step (Step 4) that scares me, but then last night in my f2f meeting we focused on Step 6. We read it aloud from the SLAA text and it scared me too. Reading the words about rebuilding, about true spiritual connection -- those sounded wonderful. Reading the words about letting go of all my defects of character, turning over and letting loose these tools that have helped me survive my life. Oh wow. I want that, but I feel inadequate to handle it. I don't feel like I can live without them. I am scared at the thought.

I know I have to work through steps 4 and 5, and really finish up Step 3, although I believe that I have reached some grounding there, before I get there. And that by taking my time, working through those steps, I will be ready when I am ready to move into this very powerful step -- Step 6. That feels encouraging. Although my impatience sometimes makes me want to rush ... to become discouraged with myself, I am thankful that through each step, I am able to work at my own pace, truly absorb the meanings and the feelings, and have hope that I will be ready, truly ready for the next step that lies ahead. There is new hope for my life in each step.

I thank God every day for this program and for the people who have I have joined in this journey. We are walking an amazing walk. One day at a time.

A note to my recovery group

S. wrote:
But then, deep down I also know that when this crisis is over & if I come out of it unscathed, it would be so easy to slip back into my Addict skin & mode of thinking," I'm bored with this, I need more than this".

Dear S. and Group --

Boy, did S. ever catch my mind ... er my addict mind ... at work. I woke up Sunday morning with an image of me my face beaten and bloody covered in bruises -- a reminder of how lucky I was when I was meeting men I didn't know at all, some I had barely talked to, for sexual encounters. I could have been beaten, killed, God knows what, and I'm only lucky that didn't happen. During that time I liked to believe my instincts were good, that I could tell when something was a little "off" about someone. As it turns out, I was right. I encountered a bunch of lonely souls like me ... who were just as risky and desparate as I was.

So then my husband never found out, I didn't get beaten, I didn't lose my job, I didn't get arrested, I'm in recovery, I'm improving my life. I am so freakin' lucky, so blessed by the gifts and the protection provided by my HP. Yet, what does my addict tempt me with ... "It's so easy. You can do it without getting caught, without any consequences at all." Even writing that is triggering to me. When I get in that mode I start thinking ... like the rest of the world, ahhh, it's alright, it's just a little sex. What a powerful, cunning and baffling disease we are up against, my friends.

We are to be commended for taking on this fight. There are plenty of sex addicts walking the streets today who will never admit their problem. We've at least made it to step 1.

So, cheers to you all! And thanks S. ... for singing my song. I needed to hear it today, to bring it out in the light.

Love,

Rae

My daily meditation in my Letting Go book this morning was about what else ... "letting go." But it gave a scenario that I thought made sense. Sometimes when we are in the water, swimming and we get out over our heads or feel overwhelmed by the water, we panic. But then suddenly we realize we don't need to do all this struggling to stay above water, just calm down, be still, doggie paddle a bit, or even just lie back ... and the water will carry us. Struggling and fighting against the water is counterproductive and could cost you your life. The same is true with our addictions and obsessions.

On Saturday morning , when I was hell bent on acting out again, I opted not to fight against anything ... I simply thought, if it's going to happen, it's going to happen. If it's not meant to happen, it won't. I just took it that simply. And, as it turned out, I got sick, and it didn't happen.

I remember a time in my active addiction when I was set to meet up with a guy that I saw pretty regularly, it turned out that he (in addition to being as big an addict as me) had a pretty bad cold. I struggled pretty seriously I remember, thinking "I'm going to get sick if I meet this guy and not only am I going to get sick, I'm going to take my sickness home. " I remember driving to meet the guy, yelling at myself, "What are you doing? Do you not have any more self control than this?" I remember that the struggle was intense in my mind, not only because the guy was sick, but because he had already proven himself to be a tremendous con artist and user. And I STILL acted out with the guy that day (and others to follow). My husband ended up being sick for close to a month ... not to mention me. It was miserable. I wonder what would have happened if I had just become calm and let go of the struggle?

During the times that I think of how powerful my addiction is, and especially how powerful it was when I let it run free, my mind always goes back to this incident. I can still feel the sickness. It was miserable, and miserable to see my husband suffering through it and to know that it came into our house because I was willing to use and be used by a man who didn't give a shit about either of us.

For those of you who have not subscribed to the Hazelden "Gift of the Day" list, this one was perfect for me. To read, "Would you put a friend through that?" That was perfect.

Today's thought is:
Friendship with oneself is all-important, because without it one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world.--Eleanor Roosevelt
In recovery, perhaps first we make peace with ourselves, and not until later do we become our own friends. We have been at war with ourselves and in turmoil with our families, even while feeling like victims. This program lays out Twelve Steps we can follow to become friends with ourselves. In recovery we may still feel self-hate when we constantly monitor our every action, when we react to our mistakes by berating ourselves, and when we dwell on past offenses. Would we put a friend through that?
True friends will accept you as you are.They don't put you down or call you derogatory names. They'll give you honest feedback and won't put on a false front. They'll support you when you're in trouble. Being our own friend means doing these things for ourselves. Perhaps we can even embrace and be kind to the part of ourselves that is addicted and codependent.
Today, I will be a friend to my whole self -- even the parts of me I have rejected.

If there were no fear

Caroline Myss, a holistic teacher and an expert in self-esteem issues said this during her keynote address:
There’s a difference in living your fate and living your destiny. On the train of life, destiny is the engine and fate is the caboose that is dragged along. One leads, one follows. Destiny is what happens when you follow your instincts. Fate is what happens when you have to live with the question of what would have happened if I had listened to my inner voice? Walk on this Earth with courage, because if you don’t, someone will have to lead you.

So, the first question is ... are you living your fate or your destiny at this point?
I think because I am early in recovery and still trying to find my way that I may still be living my fate. My goal is to live my destiny. I think I do my best to listen to my inner voice, it's just that sometimes the voices are too intertwined. The other day I had to pray ... "God, I can't hear what you are saying here. You're going to have to straighten this out." Then only one voice came through.

Second, Myss says, "One of our greatest fears may be the reality of being empowered."
What would empowerment look like in your life, and what about that empowerment scares you most?
Empowerment in my life would be a self-assured person, clear on the direction I am going, fully present in my life. I would be able to live my life based on my principles, and be clear on what my principles and values were. Basically, empowerment would be living my life for me and by me.
What scares me most? That's a lot of responsibility. It is hard work living like that, without an escape, being held accountable. It's easier to just run away and hide. But that has gotten me no where.


Third, how does fear feed your addict?
Fear of being alone feeds my addict in a significant way. Fear of accepting myself as I am may mean that others don't accept me and I'm still afraid of that.

Lastly, what would you do if there were no fear?

Fear is both good and bad. If there were no fear I might get pretty cocky, release my need for others and for my HP. That would be detrimental. However, fear also stops me from making the needed choices in my life. If I were dreaming ... and there were no fear, I'd quit my job, go to Arkansas for a few months, do research for the book I want to write based on the mountain people there, then go and live in India for a few more months and write the book, as well as write a few short stories from there. I'd have complete faith that when I finished that project I would have a meaningful job when I returned to the U.S.
If there was no fear, I'd tell my husband everything and say I need you to be as honest with me about how you feel about staying in this marriage. Then I would have the courage to accept his answers and make the right choice.
If there was no fear, I'd take on the cause of mental health and the issue of sexual addiction in a grand scale way as a lobbyist and activist.
The truth is ... there is fear, but I don't have to let it rule my life. I just have to make the right choices, knowing that the wrong ones can have lifelong consequences.

Awareness

A recovery friend said something to me yesterday that made so much sense ... it was so true for me. She said when she married her first husband, it was to bring an unmanageable life under control. As soon as she said those words, I knew that she had spoken my truth.

Before I met my husband 10 years ago, I was living very much the life that I have lived over the past year in my active addiction -- unaware that it was an addiction to sex and love at work. Being with him and married to him has kept my addict at bay for a few years ... and then suddenly he wasn't enough, and there was a fear that our marriage would be lost to his inability to be present with me and provide me with the love and affection I needed. Whether I realized it or not ... my codependence on him coaxed my addiction to the surface, giving me an "out," an escape. I said to myself ... you can make it work if you are not too needy, you can make it work if you get your needs met elsewhere and just bring what you have to offer home. You can have everything you need. But then what I found was ... where I was searching, in empty sexual relationships with men who cared nothing about me was that I got nothing close to what I needed. I was torn further apart. Filled with less and needing more.

I have a chance to live a more clear life because of the me that recovery is revealing. I never again want to make my decisions based on fear of being alone, weak and unprepared, but rather with complete consciousness and assurance that I took advantage of every opportunity there was to receive the blessings of love and hope that have been waiting for me all along. The day will come when I can actually ask for what I need and not feel selfish. That is the healthy life I desire.

Update

Well, I got sick with a flu and what seemed like inevitable didn't happen ... I didn't call this guy to go meet up at some flea bag motel for four hours of sex, which is what you can get for $30 these days.
I also realized there are people in the world who are suffering through REAL problems -- bankruptcy, divorce, problems with their kids. I got it easy. It should be easy for me to forego a horny urge to get laid.

Still sober ...

... and barely hanging on today.

For those of you who think I'm a drunk ... no ... I'm a sex and love addict and sobriety means I'm not fucking around with some guy who I'm not married to -- read all my early posts if you really want to know more.

The weather was so beautiful yesterday and rather than enjoy the gift of the beauty of spring, my addict came into full swing, sabotaging any thought of that. I was already feeling very "vulnerable" -- doesn't seem like the right word considering my state of mind -- and then I got an e-mail invite from a former DOC to hook up Friday night and if not then Sunday. That didn't help much, but I managed to hit delete. But the joys of spring must have had him by the .. ahem .. oh sorry .. I meant, heart as well. Because on my drive home, the phone rang ... the number showing up "unavailable." Because I get work related calls all the time that show up that way, I answered ... to a bright, cheery, fully engaged voice on the other end ... and man, did it feel good. I'm not going to lie for a second. There's no reason to lie. I can pretend and say phrases and tell myself you're worth more than this and all kinds of stuff, but guys none of it matters to me right now. Long story short about the phone call ... I talked, but didn't make any plans, although I didn't stick to any hard line like "I'm in recovery and I won't see you," either. He was clear that if I were not driving to meet my husband to go to dinner with friends there would have been nothing to stop me.

Making plans is on my bottom lines ... once I tell someone, yeah, I'll see you on such and such day, there's no going back. And even though I have made no verbal commitment in my mind, I know that in my heart I have already made a commitment to be open to the idea of making something happen on Sunday. I'm already making plans to "prepare" for something tomorrow. All of these things are dangerous, very dangerous for me. I'm less than a breath of throwing everything away ...

For a long time I have not "wanted" to do this ... I have just resisted little temptations. Now there's nothing I want more. I want that buzz, that high, that thrill. I can visualize and feel the smile on my face. It's not about the sex for me ... it's about the moment ... living in that fun, carefree moment, where nothing else in the world matters.

I've written to my support group, begrudgingly. I don't want anyone to talk me out of this. And frankly, I don't think anyone can talk me out of it. But, what I am doing is having faith that despite my best and worst efforts, God will handle this for me -- someway, somehow. As the song goes ... sex is natural, sex is good ... I know feeling sexual is not wrong. So, I'm going to let those feelings go ... knowing I am powerless over them, and trust God to take care of the rest. He's got the road map and the more I try to control, the more I'm going to mess it up.

Sometimes I feel awkward because none of the men I want to sleep with really mean much to me. It's not that they are worthless creatures, it's just that it's understood that we are using one another. None of us are looking for love. That's so different than many of you here ... who got tied up in addictive relationships with people who you care about. Perhaps I'm more of a sexual compulsive than a sex and love addict. What do you think?

Rebuilding

A member of my online support group wrote: "I now live in Oklahoma City and I spent Thursday afternoon at the memorial of the federal building bombing."

I visited the Murrah Building memorial last year in OKC and was moved deeply. It's amazing how they have put the whole thing together, a true rememberance of the terror the day's events and the lives that were lost.

My visit to the memorial was actually only a short time before I attended my first f2f SLAA meeting. I was feeling like my life was in shambles -- maybe because my insides were. But as I went through the memorial, heard the sounds, felt the commotion, then heard the stories of aftermath -- what it meant to the city, to the country, to the world, and then more closely to the families whose loved ones lost their lives -- I cried and shook inside. I remember it took me a long time to settle down after we left. It wasn't that I was still crying, but I was still feeling, still shaking, still shocked.

And what I think now as I look back on those feelings I know they hit deeper -- to feelings that my insides -- my heart and soul, my mind -- feel like they have been bombed, blown to pieces, and so much has been left in the wake. I feel empty and hollow, love is only able to pass in and out. There are survivors of me, people who have loved me, who still love me, who mourn the loss of my spirit and soul and wonder if I'll ever be rebuilt. Friends who have been neglected, a husband who can only do his best, and a family that both scares me and makes me sad. I wonder if I ever will be rebuilt. There are glimpses of reconstruction, but the foundation is being laid very slowly.

I can't help but imagine the grassy outer area of the memorial, where the copper covered seats line up row after row, facing the clock that marks the time of the attack. I've been trying to think of what those represent in this analogy to me. And I think it is that only one of those seats belongs to me. I am not alone. Through this program, we all come together for strength and hope, and rebuilding.

And, together, lined up row after row, we represent a beautiful image of peace and serenity, a memorial and testament to all that has been given, all that has been taken and all that has been left behind.

Thank you to every addict who walks with me. Today, I do not feel alone.

Catch up

Most of the last posts ... in fact all of them for a couple of months ... have been copy and pastes from other things I have written. The letters to my fathers, from my stepdad (who I call Daddy) and even some old letters to lovers that somehow I didn't want to get rid of. I think I wanted to have the letters to remember the pain I felt back then.

I am now four months sober of sex outside my marriage, if you discount a slip I had back about this time in February. So, technically, I'm only one month sober -- but I'm trying to be clear about how far I have come.

G. the guy I slipped with, has not returned calls or e-mails -- so I'm assuming I pissed him off. That's good -- one less thing to worry about.

I met in NYC last weekend -- a week ago ... wow, it seems like years ... with a group of my online support buddies. It was a wonderful, amazing experience. We had an actual "meeting," complete with the steps and a prayer at the end, right there ... with the world going on around us. I think one thing may have been the place. In NY you can be invisible.

I have no feelings about the letter from my stepdad. I guess those will come. I expected he would write me and say most of the things he said. I didn't expect how I would react.

A reply

I got a reply today from my stepfather.
It read:
To answer your question, yes, I was sick for a long time then.
I did love you, I still do love you.
It was not your fault. It was mine.
The good Lord forgave me for all of my sins. I wish you could too.
I am all right now, except for being toothless, going bald, going blind and all of my other troubles.
I probably have less than five more years to live (with my emphysema), so please let me live the rest of it in peace.
I have thought about just leaving it all behind and disappearing for good.
S. (my niece who will soon be three years old, who is often in the care of my dad and his current wife) is going to live a good peaceful life, without anyone bothering her, or I will get up from my grave and do some rear-end kicking.
Love you,
Dad

And even further

Someone asked me some questions about my biological father, which I mentioned in one of my postings earlier in the week. This is what I came up with ...

As for my biological father, I also wrote him a letter. I mailed it late last year. In it, I said, as a child I spent many years hating you ... mainly for how you treated my mother and abandoned her and she didn't deserve that. As an adult, I can tell you that if you need forgiveness, you have mine. My biological father and mother married when they were 17 and 15. They grew up in a tiny, tiny town and were basically forced together by their parents. He went into the military and they traveled around the country from Army base to Army base ... my three siblings were born and then they returned to settle not far from where they grew up. He went to work as a cross-country truck driver and was on the road most of the time. He soon met another woman and began spending part of his time with her. After a while that time became more and more until he left my mother with three young children and no education. His family and my mom's family helped some, but they were all poor. My brother went to work at 14 years old to help pay the rent. When my sister was a teenager she began to act out -- sleeping with boys, staying out late, these things. He told my mother, "She wouldn't do these things if she lived in my house." So my mother said, "Come take her to your house then." So, he came to our hometown to pick up my sister. That night in a moment of weakness he and my mother had sex. I am the product of that encounter. A pure unwanted, unneeded imposition, resulting from weakness.
Before my father returned to this other woman the next day, my sister decided she didn't want to go live with him. So, my brother said, "I want to go." My biological father's response was "You can't come, because Frances (his girlfriend) doesn't know about you. She didn't know I had kids until I was forced to tell her about Debbie (my sister) because she was going to come live with me."
I only heard this part of the story four years ago. I always thought I was the only one who was ever rejected. It was very humbling to know that we were all rejected.
Anyway, so the letter I sent to him just said -- it's clear that you loved this woman you left my mother and your family for. You are still with her after all these years. I understand how things happened and I no longer hate you.
At the bottom I wrote ... you don't need to acknowledge this letter, I wrote it for me. He never responded.

Thoughts finally surfacing

I have been quiet lately, a bit isolated. I don't understand all my feelings, but this morning was able to write out some things that I need to share. I thank you in advance for listening.

Back in December, before the new year started, I wrote a letter to my stepfather telling him how f*cked up my life is, how depression and overwhelming feelings have rendered me almost helpless – unable to work, unable to function. (I didn’t say anything about the addiction.) I told him that I had finally reached this stage because I had come to grips with the fact that the secrets of his abuse I had kept all these years were killing me. “I pay the price every day. My husband pays the price every day,” I wrote. Now, it is time for you to pay the price and face this – Why did you do this to me? I told him that I had no grand scheme to start telling the world, but that I was now saying the truth out loud, and that if there was ever any indication that he was abusing his granddaughter the way he abused me, I would make sure he lived the rest of his life in shame.

I have carried this letter around with me … in my purse since then. I shared it with my counselor and with my husband. They both encouraged me to send it. My husband said, “Why should you be the only one to suffer?” I told him then that I for some reason still felt the need to protect my father (sorry … I never call him my stepfather, he raised me from 9 months – it’s hard for me to get in that mode.). I was afraid of hurting him. I know that this is more about my obsessing need to ignore myself and look out for someone else’s feelings. But, the reality was, I was afraid of hurting him – this man who has so selfishly hurt me, stolen my innocence, and asked me to kill myself by hiding all the hurt inside.

I mailed the letter on Sunday. I was cleaning out my purse, and there it was. I took it out of the tattered envelope, put it in a new one, addressed it, and put it with a stack of bills to be mailed. Later, as I dropped it in the mailbox, a minor fear struck me. I thought to myself, “You can never get it back.” Other than that, on the surface I have felt pretty casual about mailing the letter – like it was time, and I did it. But these fleeting moments of desperation about other things – things like what I talked to my friend about yesterday – tell me that there are things that lie beneath.

On Monday, almost without prompting, it suddenly occurred to me that the three most defining points of my life came together on a single day in 2003. It was the day of my mother’s funeral, I was 25. My biological father, who I had never seen, and to this day has never acknowledged me as his own, came, passed by the family, touched my hand, and never knew he was touching the hand of his daughter. He even came to the cemetery and I had to “protect” myself from being near him. I remember saying to my cousin, “Please if you see him coming near me, save me.” I hated him for coming to the funeral. As if 17 years of marriage gave him any right to show up on the most traumatic day of my life, and pay his respects to a woman he had shown such utter disrespect for in the past. Little did I know that the day would only get worse. Later that night, after the family had cleared out of the house and I was alone with my father, he called me into the bedroom like he had done so many times before when I was a child. He began to talk to me about his sexual relationship with my mother, and then began to talk to me about a prostate surgery he had had a few years back, and then asked if I would like to see the scar. I said no … still the scared child couldn’t scream. He pushed a bit further and said, “It’s not really wrong, you are not my real daughter.” It was then, for the first time, that all the hurt of my childhood came back to me. I just looked at him, tears in my eyes, and said, “Why are you doing this to me?” The only response I can remember was, “I never meant to hurt you.” And I remember him reaching for me and holding me like his child as I cried, and the child inside me felt good to be held by my father, the only father I ever had.

I read these things now and want to wretch. I am angrier with myself than anyone for being so weak, for being unable to see the truth. I never had a father who loved me and I never will. I was willing to run from a man who hurt me only by his absence in my life, and willing to take solace in the arms of a man who had done me so much harm by his own sick and pathetic weak presence in my life.

Still, this morning, as I started my morning prayers, I felt the disconnect that sometimes comes – the inability to feel that I am in communication with my higher power. Those are the times that I try hardest to reconnect, and finally after all the usual methods, I began to pray out loud, thanking God for “all that had been given, all that had been taken away and all that had been left behind.” I prayed some more asking for God’s will in my life today and then I said, “Lord, watch over me today …” and closed my eyes and said, “Momma please watch over Daddy, he will need you.”

I don’t understand why I care. This hurts me in a way that only nothingness can hurt.

Answering a question, finding love

This morning, someone posted a question on one of my support group boards, expressing confusion over the meaning of I Corinthians 13, which reads:

If I speak in the tongues of men and angels, but have not love, I have
become sounding brass or a tinkling symbol.
And if I have prophecy and
know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove
mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
And if I dole out all my
goods, and if I deliver my body that I may boast but have not love, nothing I am
profited.
Love is long suffering, love is kind, it is not
jealous, love does not boast, it is not inflated.
It is not discourteous, it is not selfish, it is not irritable, it does not enumerate the
evil. It does not rejoice over the wrong, but rejoices in the truth
It covers all things, it has faith for all things, it hopes in all things,
it endures in all things.
Love never falls in ruins; but whether prophecies,
they will be abolished; or tongues, they will cease; or knowledge, it will be
superseded.
For we know in part and we prophecy in part.
But when the perfect comes, the imperfect will be superseded.
When I was an infant, I spoke as an infant, I reckoned as an infant;
when I became [an adult], I abolished the things of the infant.
For now we see through a mirror in an enigma, but then face to face.

Now I know in part, but then I shall
know as also I was fully known.
But now remains faith, hope,
love, these three;
but the greatest of these is love.

Like all "sacred" scriptures ... whether they be poems or religious text ... it is not the words that tell the meaning, rather the reader's interpretation.

The most important part of this scripture to me is the last three verses. This again is my interpretation ... When we strip away all that we were and all that we are, when we stop seeing the world as a child, but rather as an adult, fully aware of our imperfections, accepting of them and allowing others to accept them as well, what is left is hope, faith, and love. The most important of these is love. Why? To me, hope and faith are ours alone. Love we can share with others, and it is the sharing of love that binds us together and sustains humanity.

You and I both, and maybe all S&L addicts, struggle with what exactly is this thing called love. I don't know the answer, but I don't know that I have to right now to continue on with life and continue to follow the inner voice that speaks to me. And I know I will never know it, until I commit myself fully to understanding myself and loving me. Once I love myself, put aside shame, blame, guilt and all those negative images I have of myself, I will know the answer to the question ... What is love? Then I will be able to share that love -- a true love with others.

This was my "Letting Go" meditation today. I thought it was pertinent and wanted to share it:

You Are Lovable

We go back ... and back ... and back ... through the layers of fear, shame, rage, hurt, and negative incantations until we discover the exhuberant, unencumbered, delightful, and lovable child that was, and still is, in us. From Beyond Codependency by Melody Beattie

You are lovable. Yes, you.
Just because people haven't been there for you, just because certain people haven't been able to show love for you in ways that worked, just because relationships have failed or gone sour does not mean that you're unlovable.
You've had lessons to learn. Sometimes, those lessons have hurt.
Let go of the pain. Open your heart to love.
You are lovable.
You are loved.

Today, I will tell myself that I am lovable. I will do this until I believe it.

What was ...

On Nov. 29, 2004

J.

We can either continue to hurt each other unintentionally, or we can just call this off all together.

Regardless of what we say, we want one thing (sole committment from one another) and do another.

When I fell rejected by you, I do my damndest to find some other means to feel accepted, or some way to mask the pain. When you feel rejected, you have your own way of dealing with it. Either way, it's all counterproductive to the reason we started this in the first place.

Blame is not going to fall on either side. I've made my mistakes and misjudgements, and you've made yours. In between, we've harmed what was something amazingly good.

I thought after we started "going on our way" that my way was going to be to give up chat and these sexual escapades all together. We'd had our fun and it was clearly over -- you'd moved on to more exciting things. Instead, in order to mask pain and what felt like rejection, I've found myself in a worse situation than I ever expected. I want desparately to hold on to you -- a place I never should have been, yet have no faith that you want me for anything more than a "stash." Thus, I seek out new people, people who keep you from mattering to me -- even people like the doctor, who simply convince me that nothing about this matters at all.

I know you won't respond to what I've said. ... but know that I'm sorry for hurting you, and for not being strong enough to handle things a little better. I have no interest in hurting you or fighting with you anymore. It's a waste of energy. We've spent our energy in good ways in the past. And for that I'm thankful. For what we are going through now ... I'm sorry.

Rae

And a month before on Oct. 1 --


Dear J.,

(Yes, one day I'm going to hear your thoughts on all this ... )

I think this morning was great because, to me, it felt like what was happening really was an extension of our sharing. Your pleasure was constantly in my mind. I felt that everything I was doing with Terry was in some way giving you pleasure, and I certainly know that seeing you with Tammy, and knowing and hearing the pleasure she was feeling made me feel good that the guy I call my sexy lover was making another woman feel so good. And I heard you enjoying her sucking, I was so aroused, so thrilled. When Terry was moaning when he came, I was hoping you could hear him and got a thrill from knowing it was your woman that was making another man feel like that. When Tammy was moaning from your touch, your tongue, your cock ... I was thrilled beyond belief. When I joined Tammy in sucking your cock and your balls ... I can't tell you how turned on I was by the fact that I was taking part in something that I knew you'd fantasized about extensively and were finally getting. I don't know if I'm making any sense, but I hope that you can understand what I'm trying to say.

And one little thing that I wanted to tell you that drove me through the roof ... when Tammy and I were both sucking your cock and I went deep down on you and you said my name ... wow! I could have almost cum.

Funny how none of the above is what I sat down to write ...

What I sat down to write is that at some point when things settle down a bit, I'd like to talk to you about what's on your mind. Ever since I came back from vacation, you have been "different" with me ... more reserved is the only way I can describe it. It may be that you've had a horribly busy time at work. I certainly think that's the case this afternoon. But it's not this afternoon that I'm talking about ... it was earlier in the week, even when you were here. You seemed a bit like you wanted some distance. I just want to open up the door, if there's something we can discuss. The range of things that run through my mind as possibly being wrong run everywhere from you're really feeling a need to focus on work and think that I demand too much of your time in chat (which I do, and I'll understand if you say so. We could both use some time to focus on our work) ... to not just me, but all these horny girls after you are too much to keep up with while trying to maintain your sanity, to maybe you're feeling the need to be a little less exclusive. Maybe you enjoyed that "thrill of the chase" with Tammy and Jo while I was gone and are feeling a little smothered by how we've "defined" our relationship. Or maybe it's none of this ... I don't know. But you told me once that whatever is on our minds, whatever we are dealing with, we should be able to talk about it. And, I'd like to, when you get the time. At the same time, I want you to know without hesitation or worry, that I'm willing to give you some breathing room, a chance to explore if that's what you want, or even just a chance to work, if that's what you need. But I think what we have is special, and even if we have to take a break or simply "come up for air" ... I want you to continue to be a part of my life in some way. And I want you to feel free to tell me when something is on your mind. So, at some point, in your time ... let's talk.

Love,

Rae

and on Dec. 10, 2004

G,

Hope that you are doing well and that your week has shaped up OK. Mine was long, but not too tedious. The weekend is here, so that's good, even if it is raining like crazy.

I wanted to write you a note and tell you that I've decided to take a brief break from "this" -- this meaning extramarital activities, online searches, all the stuff associated with that life. I think over the past few months, I've let it sap a lot from me, and I just need to step away and sort of take an inventory, so to speak of where I am in my life, and rejuvenate. Put my head on a little straighter.

I realize that you and I have just sort of started something, and haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together -- but I don't think it's fair to either of us to proceed half-heartedly. Rest assured, that this decision has nothing at all to do with my interest in you. Without a doubt, hands down, no-holds barred you are the most skilled lover I ever encountered and I have enjoyed immensely the time we have spent together both sexually and in conversation. I mean that truly.

Still I know that I am off-kilter, not prepared to give you what you need or want right now ... and I don't want to be that to anyone, especially not someone as giving as you are.

So, that said, I'll step away and see where the next step leads. I'm not saying goodbye -- although you may decide that's best for you -- I'm just saying for now I'm taking a break. Again, we'll see where the next step leads.

Thanks for everything. I hope you will understand.

Take care,

Rae

and then on Dec. 16, 2004


Gary,

Hi.

Hope you are doing well, surviving the cold and the busy holiday season. On my end ... life is manageable, kinda.

I needed to write more to you about my "break," what brought it on, etc.

I really should have taken this break after my "disconnection" with J. My perception of the relationship I had with him, and the reality of what it was hurt me more than I probably still know. It was not that it hurt me so much that he didn't think of me in the way that I thought he did, but more that I allowed myself to be made such a fool of, and put my guard down that far. Also, that I was not more in control of my emotions -- knowing, going in, that this is just sex for fun, I fell for words and ignored actions.

But to be honest, J has only a little to do with this whole thing. Over the past few months, I became obsessed with sex, sexual pleasure, the pursuit of it. It was what my life revolved around. My work suffered, my self-esteem suffered, a lot suffered. To get a cheap thrill, I was paying a high price. Ironically, the reason I began pursuing an extramarital affair was because I felt a void of intimacy and closeness at home. What I ultimately ended up doing was using sex as a drug to "medicate" the feelings of loneliness and isolation. I came to the realization slowly that I had to stop that.

I wrongly started something with you, feeling insecure, untrusting and just plain numb. Pure fucking was fine ... 1. because it was so good and 2. because I thought, that's all there is anyway and 3. because beginning a relationship with you did "medicate" what ailed me. In the meantime, I was thinking, "This guy could have any woman he wanted. He's way too good for me. You're just available, he's available and you are hooking up." If I dig way down in my psychoanalytical mind (psycho being the key word there) ... I know that I also simply thought that we'd use each other and then you'd be gone, off to the next best thing. And I'd be in the same place ... Lonelier, more isolated, with a bigger void than ever.

I'm not trying to paint myself as a martyr here. I know full well that I have used men, including you, for my satisfaction -- ignoring whatever truths existed in order to pursue my own pleasure, momentary sense of connectedness. I am not proud of that fact, it gnaws at me every day. But I know that I need to break the cycle. I need to face myself instead of running away from the things that caused me to hurt in the first place. (That's a lot longer story that I won't subject you to.)
I know this must sound like total lunacy and I'm not sure why I felt I needed to write it to you. I think in one way it is a confession. In another it's an apology. In another it's a way of saying, you matter more than just walking away -- I felt I owed you some kind of, no matter how cryptic, explanation, but mainly an apology for drawing you into something where I knew there were questionable issues.

I am willing to be friends. But I'm also willing to say, I fucked up, I have some serious issues to work on, I'm sorry for all I did wrong, thank you for everything good that came out of the brief time we spent talking and together. Both are true.

Thanks,

Rae

Love is a thoughtful, committed decision

Written to two support buddies today, and first introduced to me by a man I met at a park for a quick blow job -- a man who was before and is now, my friend.

Regarding love being a feeling or a decision -- I fought this concept of love being a choice tooth and nail. NO WAY, I said. As you said, it's either there or it's not. I'm not trying to answer the question for everyone, but I do believe that true love is decision we make, not a feeling by which we are overwhelmed. Now, that's not to say that those feelings that overwhelm us about someone, might not lead us to make the decision to love that person, but the feelings of excitement, etc. are just the high. True love, -- again, my opinion, my personal answer to the question -- is the decision to commit ourselves, our lives, to a partnership with another person, whether romantically, in friendship, or in family. Part of making that choice or that decision, is being sure of ourselves, who we are, what we deserve, and what we are willing and able to expect and ask for from the relationship, as well as what we are willing to give.

I won't pretend that I've gotten to the point in my self-esteem to make these decisions. I have come to the realization, that I must first learn who I am, what I stand for, and why I want to exist. Then, I will have the awesome responsibility to choose love, rather than be overwhelmed by the distorted depiction of it I see all around me.

Prayers on the roller coaster

It's amazing the difference in attitude, when after a good night's rest, I wake up and say a prayer, even a short one -- expressing thanks and asking for blessings and "thy will" for the day -- before getting out of bed.

Just in the few minutes that it took for me to go to the bathroom, read a meditation on financial responsibility and walk out the door to see my husband sleeping peacefully on the bed -- I was blessed with the mental reminder that the fundamentals of any relationship, especially a marriage, are love, honor, and respect. I have the opportunity to share those attributes with my spouse today -- I am not alone, I am not struggling to rebuild my marriage while fighting against his knowledge of the times I showed nothing close to love, honor and respect for him or me, I am blessed.

What a roller coaster we live on, my friends. Thank you for being there in ups and the downs. I am blessed to have you as well.

In thanks and honor to each of you who are struggling, but thankfully are living,

Still around ...

Well, my addiction certainly knows how to remind me that it's still around. It also knows how to remind me that I have to work the program and keep to my bottom lines if I ever want to get through this.

Today I took off work. As of yesterday I started talking with a couple of recovery buddies online. What a mistake. I know better. Today, I signed on to messgenger "visible" ... only kind of by accident. The same shit happens every time, and somehow I can't get it through my head that it's all destructive.

Anyway, as I was saying, I took off work -- so I had the "urge" to chat with the new recovery buddy. In the process I got IM's from two guys I formerly had "relations" with -- one who did the usual disappearing act.

This probably all started by me sending that e-mail to E. a couple of weeks back. Then this past week I sent an IM to J. One of my bottom lines is NO contact with him. He didn't IM back. Then just now I checked his profile and he's taken off all references to sexual issues. Of course, now I'm going to obsess over whether he got caught, if he's found someone that he really is willing to commit to or what. Maybe he created a new screen name. All this causes me soooo much confusion and why the hell am I wallowing around in it. It's useless and I know it. And now I feel so ashamed. Now I have to confess all of this to someone.

Not to mention the fact that this afternoon I talked to one of the former DOC's who I didn't even like, but who is my neighbor and who keeps hounding me to get together, because he heard what a good BJ I give and asked him, "Have you talked to J.?" Fucking A. what is wrong with me. So after this, I start reading online erotica, go to the movies and mb. in the theater. What a horrible addiction and affliction this is. Now I'm going to rot in all this.

Of course, I have the choice not to. I also have the choice to get right back into this whole mess.

I should not have watched that program this morning on Good Morning America about the rising number of unfaithful wives. They were basically condoning sex outside marriage. RRRRR

I'm going to write to a recovery friend and then get busy. SHIT!

Some Step Work

Make a comparison table where I had to list what was real versus what was unreal in the relationship. For every real list an unreal.

1. (Unreal) - Because men chose to speak to me and engage in sex with me, I was worthwhile.
(Real) - Because I was sexually available, but emotionally unavailable, men wanted to talk to me and have sex with me. In it all, I (the real me) was worthless.

2. (Both real and unreal) I felt wanted and desired (the unreal part was they didn't really want me and desire me .. I was just an object.

3. (unreal) I was getting away with it, at work, at home and in my soul.
(real) I am so behind at work, it's unreal. At home, things were suffering and I couldn't look at anything good my husband was doing. In my soul, I was slowly eating myself alive.

4. (unreal) I was the only woman in each of these men's lives.
(real) Just like me they had one side f*ck after another.

There's many more ... but that's enough for now.

How did it make my life unmanageable?

I was constantly online, talking to men day and night - at home and at work, on the phone and meeting them in person. I put off deadlines, I put off work. I was afraid I'd be fired. I should have been. I was afraid I'd lose my marriage. I would have deserved it. I was obsessing beyond belief. When I wasn't doing one of the above "actions" I was obsessing about the next conversation, finding the next person, keeping my hold on the the people I had.
What was the payoff?
I felt desired, wanted. I didn't have to feel alone. I was leading an exciting life. I was "the best" at lots of things.
Who did I hurt?
My colleagues, my husband, my family. I hurt the men I was involved with, by helping them to continue their own addictions and I hurt their families, their jobs. Most of all, I hurt myself.

How was I at fault?
I'm confused about the answer to this. The program might tell me I wasn't ... that I was diseased. But if anything, I kept letting it happen, even when I knew it was wrong. My amend is that I have stopped and am trying to stay that way.
What should I have done instead?
I think at the time, I did the only thing I knew how to do. In retrospect, I guess I should have just never started chatting with men online. But that doesn't even seem like it was an option at this point. It was of course, but it doesn't seem like it now. Everything just happened. I guess I still am deflecting a lot of the blame.
History of the relationship.
I'm not sure I understand this question as it relates to me -- but there was more than one "relationship." My relationship was with one man after another who I met on the Internet and later met offline for sex. Some men I'd had several conversations with before meeting them, but in the worst of my addiction, I might talk to a guy for a few minutes and meet him a few minutes later for sex. Others, I would have "committed relationships" with. What a joke. It's all so surreal now, yet I still feel closeness to some of these people. It's unreal.

Responsibility

I said to myself today:

You must begin to get to work on time. You must take your job responsibilities seriously. You must stop making excuses for not doing what needs to be done. You are being paid a salary. You need to have something to show for that.

You are getting your life in order, you are not lazy, you are not inefficient, you are not irresponsible. As a healthy person, you have to begin to demonstrate that.

You have no excuses -- at least not legitimate ones.

Prayer for today

Dear Lord who lives in us all, thank you for this day, for another day to live and survive. A day to thrive. I pray for all people on the roads this morning, Lord, that they will be safe in the heavy rains and wind. I pray especially for my husband's safety.

I pray Lord that in my life today your will will be done. You have already given me some good lessons this morning as I have read the posts of my fellow sex addicts. Perhaps today will bring temptations, or anger. I never know what each day will bring, but I pray for the strength to endure it, and for the resolve to understand that all things happen as part of a broader plan. If I must suffer so that another can live free of pain, if I must be angry so another can be happy, let me accept that as part of my contribution to humanity.

I thank you, Lord, that my relationship with you -- with the spirit that I realize moves in all of us -- has become greater. That I now realize that I am one part of a mighty and awesome God that lives in all of us and breathes life into us each day.

I pray for comfort in the hearts of my friends J. and K. as they suffer the burden of the loss of their child to miscarriage. Comfort them, Lord and hold them close to you.

I pray Lord for direction in my life, that I will find the proper path to take in terms of my career, and pursuing my ambitions. I ask for faith in myself and in you.

I pray most fervently that I will turn all things over to you, Lord, the spirit that lives in us all, and know that you will lead the way to a brighter tomorrow, as I live through this one day you have give me.

Living my life, one day at a time, by the grace of the living spirit that flows through us all.

Amen.

A powerful revelation

It just occurred to me after considering W.'s situation when his wife went out of town, a situation I have been in myself, where I am so excited to have the "opportunity" to act out, that this was the same feeling my father had when my mother would leave and my sister would be gone and he would have me in the house to himself.

Wow, what a powerful revelation. So powerful in fact, I don't know what to say or think. One thought that crosses through my mind, as my stomach comes up into my throat is, "I am just as sick as he was." I know it's not true -- I haven't taken advantage of innocent children. But still, the similarities are too close for comfort.

I ask for blessings for us all, especially those of us who lived through incest.

Promises of the program

* We will regain control of our lives
* We will begin to feel dignity and respect for ourselves.
* The loneliness will subside and we will begin to enjoy being alone.
* We will no longer be plagued by an unceasing sense of longing.
* In the company of family and friends, we will be with them in body and mind.
* We will pursue interests and activities that we desire for ourselves.
* Love will be a committed, thoughtful decision rather than a feeling by which we are overwhelmed.
* We will love and accept ourselves.
* We will relate to others from a state of wholeness.
* We will extend ourselves for the purpose of nurturing our own or another's apiritual growth.
* We will make peace with our past and make amends to those we have hurt.
* We will be thankful for what has been given us, what has been taken away, and what has been left behind.

I like the last one and the seventh one best.

Taking steps

This morning I went to my first SA meeting, which was a step in the right direction. I needed the extra support and found some there, even though they spent a few minutes bashing my other program. One thing I walked away from was a reading in their "big book" about not telling your spouse about your problem right away. I also walked away knowing that I was glad I found my group first, because this program is way too vigorous on the religion and abstinence side. Had I enrolled in it right away I know I would not have come as far as I have. I would have walked away. I wouldn't have been able to stomach it and buy into it.

I came home and wrote a final goodbye letter to G. None of it felt "normal," but I felt compelled. Now, I have to get used to it. Used to the idea that I really am not going to have anyone to reach out to when my addiction starts to crave and want. It stings a little bit. I don't feel good about it. But I know I will at some point. I have to get used to the idea that I have to focus on one thing now and that is me and my recovery. I have to start working through the program more diligently.

Every step I take in this process I feel like I'm peeling back one more layer of the onion -- finding out more about me, and getting comfortable with the feeling of "exposed skin."

I feel odd ... out of sorts. I think it must be the letter I wrote. Or maybe it's I'm feeling in limbo. I'm now thinking of quitting my job and living abroad for some time. A few steps to make plans for that trip abroad have already been made. Previously when I've needed to turn to something in these stressful situations, I've turned to sex. That's that last place I can turn now. I need to focus on my work, but I"m still unable.

I can see strides I've made, but I still need to work on my goals of leading a decluttered lifestyle and focusing on the responsibilities of my work. I kinda feel like I'm going to vomit.

One other thing I took from this morning's meeting what something that one of the members of the group said. He said that early on he had trouble picking up the phone to call someone else in the program, but soon realized that his reasons had something to do with his continual avoidance of intimacy. Tonight I have dinner with a friend, I know it will be awkward, because I don't feel comfortable with people anymore. I have given up my feeling of complete comfort with others for sexual escapade after sexual escapade that wasn't worth shit.

I'm getting better not worse, and I refuse to wallow around in self-pity though. I will work to have a good time tonight and to begin to reach out to others. I pray to God for the strength and the clarity tomorrow to focus on my work. I pray for my heart to be opened to opportunity to hear and to be heard and to love, as love was intended.

Morning Prayer -- Jan. 7, 2005

Thank you, Spirit of us All, that I woke up this morning with the foresight and the enthusiasm to clear the clutter from my home. I know that throughout the weekend, that will inspire me to rid my life and my home of even more clutter. It's a great feeling to be alive today, and I thank you Lord for that. Thank you for this new day to live and experience life, and learn, and interact with others who are going through the same process.

I know I'm in a much better place now than where I was even last week. And when I consider where I was last month, I know that by recognizing my powerlessness, acknowledging your presence in me as it flows through all of us, and allowing you to work through me, I am going to make it out of all this a much stronger person.

Today marks the 34th day since I have had sex outside my marriage. I could never imagined that I could ever go a week without finding someone to "act out" with. I have had some near misses and I thank you, oh so much, for intervening. I pray that you will help me not "flirt" with disaster like that again. I never want to feel, "Oh, God will bail me out." I know that I am responsible for my decisions and that if I simply work on making myself stronger rather than spending my time developing ways to avoid trouble, my life will be better. I must remember to focus on the positive aspects of what this experience and this disease has taught me; and one of the most positive things it has taught me is that I am worthy of a true and wonderful life. Wow! What an amazing revelation. Day by day, literally, I have been willing to consider myself powerless against the disease, and with your gentle voice you have guided me through that. I pray that voice will continue to guide me as I continue to work toward becoming whole.

I pray to you, dear Spirit, for your blessings today. Use me as an instrument to help others, and raise me above the distinctions and differences that confuse me and make me weak. Because you live through me, I can be strong. I pray for your will in my life today, Lord. Today and always thankful. Amen.

Something I must remember

"Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark place where it leads."--Erica Jong
There was a time when we didn't believe we had any talents. We couldn't imagine we had any purpose or any gift to give to the world. But it's true: We all have talents, many of them. If we each haven't yet discovered ours, we soon will. With time and the Steps and friends, we will be encouraged to recognize them, to celebrate them, to cultivate them, to dare to give the away.
Utilizing our talents fully, which is part of life's bigger plan, may lead us to new jobs, new friends, to places presently unknown. The prospect of new horizons may excite us. It may also elicit dread. We can trust that, just as we are given no problems too big to handle, we are given no talents too great to develop. The strength to move ahead will always be available if we have faith. And the progress offers us faith.
I will look for my talents today. I will also look for talents in my friends. I can celebrate them, and soon the way to use them will become clear.

Happy Day after Christmas

This is a note I sent to my support group this morning.

Today is a new day. And isn't it wonderful? God has blessed us all with a brand new day of opportunity.
We could wake up and say... "another sh*tty day in paradise" or we can say, "I'm alive and I'm working to get to know myself better and overcome the obstacles in my lifeand I'm happy to have that opportunity."
I choose to say the latter.
For those of you who had a grand day yesterday. I'm glad. I join you. We had a group of about 40 people from non-Christian faiths over for a traditional Christmas meal. We celebrated all the traditions -- eating too much, opening gifts, and enjoying one another's company. Today I have the "wonderful opportunity" to clean up. LOL
For those of you who had a bad day, a hard day, I can empathize. I was the lone Christian in a room of 40 chattering people, my family is 600 miles away, and they wouldn't have really gotten together anyway. My dear mother has been dead for 12 years now, her mother, my dear grandmother dead for 13. I miss their presence in my life and I miss the congruity they brought to our family -- a congruity that is now gone. I feel only individual closeness with individual members of my family. And with some, I offer only obligatory love. With myself, I'm still working on becoming comfortable.
Yet, today is a new day. It will likely present its challenges to all of us. It's amazing the little ways this addiction likes to creep into our minds. But today will also present us with opportunities for growth. I choose to focus on those ... just for today.

A suggestion

Someone on one of the list servs I belong to said a therapist had asked her to write a letter to herself from God. This seems like such a good challenge. I think it is one I'll undertake.

Not counting days anymore

2004 is almost over. Wow! What a year. I can't believe all that has transpired and how my life has changed. I guess we read a lot about how people go from top successes to beggars on the street. I certainly have learned that addiction can kill a person and rob them of everything good in their lives. I am one of the lucky ones who recognized it right away and was not afraid to say, "I need help."

I took a step yesterday toward further healing after feeling for some time that I've just be sort of floating. I asked someone to be my "temporary" sponsor in the SLAA program. He agreed and I think this will be good. I know I will have to look for a permanent sponsor, but for now, I can at least know that I have someone to depend on, and someone to whom I should rely. Even though I know that I have gotten better since I first started seeing a therapist, and then since I first started going to support group, I still always feel the sting of setbacks and want to move past all this to a state of peace and sanity. Of course, I know it's not easy and I have to be patient.

The first thing my sponsor asked me to begin working on was Step 3, which reads "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God." Well, I'm Miss Control Freak and this is a biggie. I guess even the first two steps were big too. Those are:
1. We admitted we were powerless over sex and love addiction - that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

But this third one will be the challenge. For one thing I'm not doing a very good job of praying ... and if I don't talk to God, then I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to be in tune with his will for my life.

I'm still "dabbling" around more than I should. I talked to G. this morning online and didn't exactly say, "I'm never going to see you again." I didn't cross my bottom line of "making plans," but I also didn't hint that there would never be another plan. Why? What was I feeling? These are the questions I have to stop and ask myself. It feels good to flirt, to be wanted for a little while. But then I go through periods of obsessing that are far from worth it. And this is where I have trouble "letting go" -- is God really going to let me keep doing this to myself? Doesn't he want me to make some effort to try and control my actions? I feel responsible for my own actions. God has supplied me with the knowledge I need to make wiser choices ... then I don't use that knowledge. I just get sucked in by the addiction. This seems like such a cop out.

Farewell to a potential lover

This is an e-mail to a man I've never met, but have exchanged e-mails with. The letter I wrote to a man that I was starting my third trainwreck bound relationship with was much worse. The only thing I think I lied about here was when I said that not getting to see each other would have been a great source of tension. The truth is, if we didn't get to see each other often, I'd surely be fucking someone else as well. That's the addiction and how it works. Ugly, but true.

---
I've been waiting for a time in my "busy" schedule so that I could sit down and write you a long letter, addressing all the things you've shared with me and how they've resonated with me, or how I've been interested in them. But, that time has not come yet. I know that you are patient, and I don't have to rush ... but there's another reason I felt it was important to write to you today rather than wait forever for my schedule to clear. Honesty.
I have not been dishonest up to this point ... don't worry. I am a woman, and I do have two legs and 10 fingers and toes and I am married. However, during the time that we have started our conversation with one another, some things have changed in my life, some realizations have come. I want to be honest with you about those.
I started looking for a lover in early 2004 because I felt a void of intimacy and connectedness at home with my husband. I thought I was really reaching out to fill that void with a no-strings attached relationship. Over the course of the time, as I did look, I had brief 'relationships' with two men, and met a few others. Both relationships were extremely painful, because my psyche somehow could not feel a long-term sexual attraction with a man, without the idea that there was some fundamental "caring" underneath. With the first guy, I simply allowed myself to care too much and with the second guy I believed a bunch of bullshit about how much he cared and how committed he was to me and to what we were pursuing together, only to learn that he had at least two other women (that I knew of) being played at the same time. The worst hurt of that was that I felt like such a fool.
That second relationship ended not long before you and I started talking and I think I "jumped" right out there to start looking for someone else to "medicate" the pain of that broken relationship and moreso my broken heart and spirit. As I've taken time to evaluate and question myself, however, I have come to the further realization that neither of these men, nor any of the men who made me feel wanted for a few hours, has filled any void in my life. They have only served to create greater voids, rip apart my self-esteem and forced me to look myself in the mirror and ask "Why are you doing this?" The answer comes back ... escape ... time and time again.
I am not ever going to solve a problem by running away from it. I am not going to relieve the hurt and loneliness in my marriage by running away from it. I'm only going to create a new hurt, and a new secret, and a further distance. I could go deeper than this, but I'll spare you that.
So, all this said. I am sorry that I didn't put my shit together before I even started talking to you. Frankly I don't know that our timing would have ever allowed us to see each other, and if things progressed that could have become a source of great tension between us. But, that aside, I came into the conversation, emotionally unprepared to start it. For that, I am sorry.
What does all this mean? I guess it means that I feel better being completely honest and telling you that I am not planning to continue to pursue an extramarital affair, but rather try to either deal with the problems in my marriage or excuse myself from it and start all over. I am nowhere near close to making that decision. I have to become emotionally prepared and grounded before we get there. BUT, I have immensely enjoyed (although I haven't done much contributing of late) our exchange of thoughts. If you are willing, I'd like to remain friends, open to discussing any and all things. If you are pissed and feel that I've allowed you to waste your time, I am very sorry and don't blame you in the least. And we part with me saying, it truly has been great having these exchanges with you.
Those are my thoughts. What are yours? Feel free to yell.

Day 7

As I count the days that I'm not chatting with men, making plans for trysts ... I realize that my sobriety is far from near. This morning I wrote to G. because I just had to explain WHY I stopped seeing him. I continue to check messages on Messenger, hoping for something. Even today I sent a "How are you?" message to someone I had a fling with -- rationalizing to myself that I really just wanted to know he was OK. That it was all about friendships. I'm checking my e-mail incessantly, I'm wrapped up in my thoughts. In my obsession, I continue to open doors.

One of the people on the SLAA list serv wrote today: "I know how it is when you feel lost and not know what to do next....feeling little and mainly drifting in the mind. This is also a form of acting out, or actually acting "in" since we escape being present by getting stuck in our own heads with obsessive thinking." I identified with this so much. Feeling lost, numb, unsure of where to go.

Listening to 70s and 80s music today. That's been nice. Boss is driving me insane, I think that's one of my biggest problems. He infuriates me and I let him. We are like one huge dysfunctional family in this office. I feel so negative. I want to laugh.

Feeling good

I'm not feeling good in my addiction ... struggling like hell, trying to make Day 6 completely sober. But I'm feeling good blogging again.

Maybe one day I'll write about something more interesting than my stinking addiction.

Thanks to Kim and Gus for your comments.

Still struggling

It's been almost two months since I've written here. For five days I have been "sober" from chatting online with men who might be potential sex partners. I am in therapy still and have started within the last month going to SLAA (sex and love addicts anon) meetings. The meetings have been helpful, as have been the online support groups.

But tonight I sit here ... uncertain what to do. I live my life with my head inside this addiction. There are a million things to do, but I can't seem to find one of them satisfactory.

I'm faced with two dilemmas. One is that after I've declared myself sober, I have an e-mail (not a chat message) from someone who is asking if I'd be interested in a fmf adventure. The addict in me says, "Hell yeah!" The recovering addict in me says run like the wind, you don't owe him anything. The second dilemma is that there is a small part of me that wants to call G., the guy who is the lover I picked up half-heartedly after things went to hell with J. Yeah, big surprise that that happened, huh?

I can't help but wonder what J. is thinking. I just suddenly stopped typing to him last week. I sent one message on Thursday morning and haven't written a word to him since. He's out of my life .... but I'll not say for good, because I don't feel that strong yet. I feel guilty about G. and think I should call him and see him and explain. It's worthless, I know.

That's enough for now.

Releasing the sanity

I don't write or read much anymore ... but I know that I need to, because I see myself being trapped by my own insanity. I wake up in the morning with obsessive thoughts of what's going wrong, what's going right. I can't quite get a handle on them. But if I simply do something to take my mind away from it for awhile, I feel calm, in control.

I woke up this morning and couldn't quit thinking of J. and what might be going on with him, how I'm going to handle it if he tells me that he needs a break or worse, that he's done with me. He's been a form of sanity for me for about five months now. NP asked me once, "If he's gone, will you have to replace him?" God I hope not. I want this cycle to end. But I also want him in my life. I obsess over the thought that he might not be there, that he may grow tired, bored, and be ready to move on. Or maybe that I will overwhelm him with my intensity.

Anyway, the point was that I woke up with those thoughts and thought I'd get up and blog them out. But I started reading the NY Times online and then even posted something to my social commentary site. I thought about other things, broader things, things outside this fucked up world that goes on inside my head. I have to find life outside my head.

Saturday morning thinking

I continue to try to convince myself I am no longer an addict of the Internet, of sexual chat -- that I am simply a woman living a promiscous life and exploring her sexuality, finding refuge from her marriage, which she's not sure is lastable.

But as I just read over some very thoughtful commentary I wrote about a year ago ... I know that my mind continues to be overwhelmed with thoughts of the Internet, my chat partners, my sex partner. I see one step continuing to lead to another. (Even as I just typed, I signed on to my messenger service to make sure none of my contacts were on.) Yesterday I participated with J. in our first foursome. There is already a plan for a possible orgy.

Of course, I have no idea how J. feels about the experience because we didn't get a chance to talk and it's driving me crazy.

Writing here

I am tempted to write a note to J. ... but I'll write here to save him the burden.

I feel another of my spells coming on ... not exactly one of those spells where I sign off the Internet and tell him I'm walking away forever. But one almost equally as desparate. I have allowed myself to get close to him, and as he and I have begun to look for couples together it has again exacerbated my addiction to the Internet. When I'm not talking to him, I'm searching for new people for him and I to talk to. I told him on Friday that due to work pressure I needed to take a break ... he said he understood. But underneath it all I know that I feel desparate... that I will lose him and that if I lose him ... I'll lose control again. Already I have cheated on him ... as recently as yesterday morning. I worry that he is cheating on me too ... but what can I blame him. I just wish we could be honest. But we can't. Because he can't control his jealousy. He wants me to be his and his alone. But at the same time he doesn't trust me. I already have a husband who doesn't trust me. But then I look at myself and think why would anyone trust me... I don't even trust myself.

That's enough for now. I just needed to vent. I wonder when the lies will end. I wonder when my relationship with J. will end. Why it will end? How it will end? My relationship with E. just ended ... no goodbye, no nothing. Just over. And, it never meant anything to him to begin with. I want to matter to someone. I know, I know ... I need to matter to myself.

Sometimes I say in my head ... "I love you." I have no idea who I'm saying it to ... or who I'm wishing were saying it to me. I know that I just wish the words were being said. Maybe I am a love addict.

I need to take a shower.

After a long time

I'm posting something here after a month ... it seems like after a year. I still struggle every day and some days I just want to scream, as I cannot seem to rid my need for Internet chat and the men I meet here. I had at least narrowed it down to one person ... then E. shows up again, asking if we can help each other with our addiction. Oh yeah, he's really interested in me helping him with that. But who can blame him. I have to learn to ask for what I want... not give in to what someone else wants.

That's enough.