A month on the road

I have been away from home for most of the month of September and it feels good to finally be home.

A few things to note about the time I was away:

I saw R. when I went back home to visit my sick brother. The first day I arrived I went to his work and waited for him to come out to his car and then we talked easily, like old friends. I didn't get out of my car. As we said goodbye he said it was good to see me and that if I wanted to go to lunch while I was in town to call him. So, of course, I did a few days later. It was difficult to go through many of the same motions I had gone through before and it not be the same -- to pick him up from work, him get in the car -- not to kiss, hold hands, not to tell him I love him, not to worry about him pressuring me to leave my husband. We had a good conversation at lunch and it was between friends, which felt nice. He told me about his life with his wife and her family now. He also complained a bit about a few things, which reminded me of my gut feeling that even if I had left my husband for him, it would never have been enough to make him happy.

Before he got out of the car, he took my hand, which was attached like glue to the steering wheel and pulled it to his lap and said, "It was really great to see you. I miss you a lot." Then he hugged me and kissed my cheek, which by that point had a tear running down it. I just said, "Me too. I'll see you soon." I honestly don't think I will see him again, but it was the only thing I could say at the moment.

I felt a strange sense of closure after I had a good cry driving away. He has his life and I have mine. I saw my therapist while I was there as well and she said she thought it was good that we could see one another and simply say "I didn't use you and you didn't use me. We needed what we had, it is over." I agreed. And I agree that seeing her brought some closure to it as well.

Today's thought for today from Hazelden was:

Life has lessons to teach. We can remember them and share them with others, or we can forget them and have to learn them again.--Jan Pishok

What we are destined to learn in this life will keep presenting itself until "contact" has been made. Each experience is a minute part of the big picture that's unfolding. We will receive the information we need, again and again if necessary. Let's give up our fear about where we are going and how we'll get there. We are in caring, capable hands. We will get to the right destination on time.

In this program we are invited to share with others what our experiences have taught us. What better way to recall, and thus relearn, what we have been taught, than to tell another about it. Every Twelve Step program is specifically designed to simplify our lives. The Steps coach us through every situation, and they never shame us for needing reminders of our lessons.

I will help others through sharing my own experiences today. In the process, I'll recapture the essence of the lessons I have learned.

And to share some things life has taught me that have finally sunk in:

Over my years in recovery, it is the Fourth Step that I have needed the most time to work through. Up until entering SLAA, I had done everything I could to avoid looking at myself, my motives and what was really inside me. Now I was suppose to take an inventory of myself and be searching and fearless in my quest. Me? Fearless? That was a tough call. But one day at a time for a very long time, my Higher Power has lead me gently through this process. And like most things in recovery, discovering myself has been like unpeeling the layers of an onion. Some new realizations were revealed yesterday that I thought I would share here.

The trouble women often face relating to and enjoying the company of other women has often been a topic on this list as it speaks directly to the way we use sex and love to escape healthy, meaningful relationships with people of both genders. I read something yesterday morning that caused me to really give some serious thought to my own issues and the way I relate to members of the same gender. I was reading from a book about healing from childhood sexual abuse, which stated that while we don't always realize it, women often feel anger at their mothers first for not protecting them from their abusers. This makes it hard later in life for them to believe that women can be trusted. It makes it also difficult to respect women in ways that might otherwise be normal.

I have only in the past two to three years even been able to acknowledge that my mother knew I was being abused. She was someone I idolized, someone I felt loved me unconditionally. I have not wanted to let go of that idea. After all, men have disappointed me, abandoned me, used me, and I have returned that by doing what I can to disappoint, abandon and use them. But through it all, I always believed that my mother was my solid rock. And to some degree I still do believe that.

A few years ago as I struggled to maintain a relationship with my stepfather (my abuser), my huband said to me, "I see you constantly trying to create something that is not there, just for the fact that you want it." In other words, because I wanted to have a normal father-daughter relationship in my life, I was struggling to pretend that certain things that were false were actually true, and vice versa. My husband said he had observed this same behavior in me as I related to my younger sister, who was an addict and with whom I was very codependent.

So, now I sit and realize that I have also desparately hung on to this "ideal" relationship I had with my mother because I needed something to hold on to. It is one of the many things that my work through the Fourth Step has helped me to realize. Slowly I am discovering a life based in real truth, not the false truths my mind has created in order to survive.

I'm glad to be home, my dear readers. I hope you all are happy in your homes as well.

Back from PA

I'm back from a weekend trip to PA where hubby and I visited some old friends and enjoyed a nice getaway. I have gone back there numerous times since we moved away ... and this is the first time I felt relatively untriggered by the lure of old haunts. It's true that many of the places we went or talked about conjured up images of my past addictive behaviors, but they didn't linger in my mind. They simply passed through.

It could be that I am finally moving on from all that started there or it could be that I've started other "memories" elsewhere. I don't know. But I was glad the sting was not as sharp and that we were able to have a good weekend together with friends.

Tonight is the first SLAA meeting of the group that I am helping to get started. I keep telling myself that I have been physically sober for awhile now and that everything will go OK. But I know honestly that I am not emotionally sober, and it is in desparation for full sobriety -- I want my life back -- that I start this meeting. I am reminded of the saying in program ... "We don't work the steps to get sober. We get sober so we can work the steps." God, help me.

Reflections

Today, despite writing about letting go of the negative, the truth is I'm feeling down. I'm not sure what it is all about, but it is there. I committed to eating three meals a day today and no snacks and connected with two OA friends. I'm seeing a therapist now, once every two weeks. I posted to my online group this morning. So, I am doing some good things.
They are offset by the fact that I have an ongoing "thing" with a traveling man who is my area once a month or so. He's someone I don't want to let go. Nor do i want to let go of a couple of other people who are in my addictive circle. Still, I have let go of everyone else that I had "built up" in this last addictive rage, and am feeling empty, feeling the need to not be empty.
I read back over a post from a year ago and saw how desparate I was at this time. I was seeing R., had just lost his baby, was thinking of leaving my husband. Geeze, I wonder sometimes whose life this is anyway. People who know me in the "real" world would never, could never imagine this was my life. Just a few months prior to that I wrote about how my addict had awakened. It was just two days before I first spoke to R. It looks like I would have seen the railroad coming, but even today ... I still keep marching on, knowing the railroad is coming.

Letting go of the negative

God, help me let go of my need to stay immersed in negativity. I can change the energy in my environment and myself from negative to positive. I will affirm the good until it sinks in and feels real. I will also strive to find one quality that I like about someone else who's important to me, and I will take the risk of telling him or her that.
From The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie ©1990, Hazelden Foundation.

Today's reading from The Language of Letting Go is pertinent in my life because as an addict I tend to focus on the negatives in my life. I tend to find everything I did wrong, then focus on it and shame myself over it, procrastinate and put off my life and my recovery longer.

I have to confess honestly that sometimes I feel my recovery is taking too long, even think sometimes of just giving up the process of recovery. Then I'll think it's my fault it's going so slow, I'm the one who is screwing everything up, who keeps hanging on to the lure of the addiction. Why can't I just step out of the way and let HP take over? It must surely be easier than I am making it. That is all negative thinking that my addictive self, my diseased self uses to keep me locked in my disease.

Whether it is the wrong way I am working my recovery or the wrong way I am living my life ... if I am using the word "wrong" then I am not accepting myself, and I am not accepting that my HP has a plan for me, whether I understand it or not.

As the AA Big Book says, "Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today." And what better way to accept life on life's terms, on my HP's terms, than to find the things in it for which I can be thankful and can admire. That simple shift in attitude can make all the difference.

That said, I'll transform a couple of negative into a few positives this morning:

Negative:

My addiction leaves me feeling trapped, locked in its clutches and I feel powerless to move ahead with anything else in my life. It is stifling, like being locked in a cellar.

Positives:

I am powerless which clears the way for a power far greater than I to have a role in my life and help me to experience life at a level which I could never have dreamed.

I have seen life at a depth that few people can comprehend; it gives me perspective that helps me to handle situations with a greater understanding. In other words, some things that cause others to freak out, don't even faze me. I can see them in perspective and realize they are passing issues.

My addiction is a manifestion of the pain I felt as a sexually abused child and recovering from this addiction is helping me to recover from the painful feelings I never allowed myself to feel.

Negative:

My recovery is taking too long. I feel sometimes as if I am never going to get it right, that I might as well just give up, that I am one of those "unfortunates" that they talk about who is constitutionally incapable of being honest with myself. Either that, or I'm just too lazy and self-centered to do the work it takes to achieve success in this program.

Postives:

I can share these feelings with others and know they have been there too and that they made it through and have seen the miracles of the program happen over and over again.

I can pray and feel that my HP is there if I just reach out and make "concious contact."

Nobody is asking for perfection but me, and I do achieve success in this program in little steps that I can be very grateful for one little day at at time. For example, already today, I made a list of things I am grateful for about my husband and our relationship and I took the risk of sharing it with him, then let go of the expectation. That is one little grain of success for today. If it's all I get, I still have done something positive, which is a step in the right direction.

One day at a time, one moment at a time, I recover. And I'm certainly grateful that something inside me drives me to keep coming back.

Carry on

Carry on ... that's the best we can do, I wrote on the blog of one of my longtime blogging buddies, Summer.

Hubby and I returned late last night from a long driving trip to the eastern part of the country. We saw old friends there and realized that we live a pretty good life compared to those who constantly feel they have to keep up with someone else in order to have any worth. We also talked about getting a dog. I'm excited about that.

Today I read a post on A Room of Mama's Own this afternoon that made me cry the kind of tears you cry when you see something that feels so familiar but you never thought anyone else could ever understand.

The lines between sex/love addiction and friendship blur for me so easily, leaving me feeling empty and confused. I eat chocolate cake and buy ice cream and say it's going to be the last time and then horde money for later adventures. I'll try to go to an OA meeting tonight. My first SLAA meeting is next week and I'm feeling inadequate to run it, but I'll do it anyway in hopes that someone more sober will show up to lead the next week's meeting.

I feel out of sorts, I don't know if it is lonely or tired that haunts me. Maybe both.

Passage into a new skin

Thought for today from A Woman's Spirit

We are not unlike a particularly hardy crustacean. ... With each passage from one stage of human growth to the next, we, too, must shed a protective structure.
--Gail Sheehy

Our passage into a new stage of development was initiated by our desire to stop using (sex and love). The values we lived by while using (sex and love) no longer fit us. We need to shed our old skin and grow a new one that reflects our current worldview.

We are now, and always will be, in the stage of becoming, of trying to fulfill our changing dreams and aspirations. What we can accomplish at one stage of life is different from what we can handle at another. And yet an overall design is being shaped by all our endeavors. The more willing we are to shed yet another skin, the more centered, stable, and spirit filled we'll become.

Do my actions fit my values? As I outgrow my values, I will release them. I will relish my growth today and celebrate my new skin.
----

Sobriety for most of my recovery from sex and love addiction and food addiction as well has been rather allusive for me, as many of you who have been around a while can attest. I know well that it is primarily because surrender, my ability to give up my own will has been the most difficult task of my life. I learned very early in life that trust of any sort was dangerous and could lead to extreme pain. Failure to trust that there is a power greater than myself who can, if I will get the hell OUT of the way, restore me to sanity ... only keeps me in a cycle of self-defeat, just the place my addict wants me to be.

No matter where I am in my recovery I always feel the growth, as well as the deterioration. Sometimes the deterioration -- the progress of the disease as it changes from one form to the next -- feels like it has all the power to win the race in my parallel lives. Above sea level, where I work my recovery, live my day to day life, and am seeing a lot of successes and reasons for hope these days ... I thrive. I have recently made the moves to start and SLAA meeting in my area and I feel so proud about that, so thankful to my Higher Power for the courage and for paving the way. I'm in the process of making positive changes in my career, and I feel so excited about that. But underneath it all, the person I feel I can't trust the most is me. I have felt so vulnerable lately, not trusting the good feelings and just waiting to f*ck them up. I always do. Because I never surrender ... and shed the old skin, as the thought for today above says.

I must maintain a very disciplined life in order to stay above sea level. I must pray, write, exercise, read, have a to do list and a gratitude list, a daily food list, go to meetings, make phone calls and stay very present. As an addict, I am very undisciplined and reject discipline on the principle that I "need" the freedom of my own actions.

It is so hard for me to simply realize that I am sick, that addiction is a disease, a state of constant "dis ease," where I crave the opportunity to feel "normal" yet constantly am aware that I am not. Addiction, for me, is a state of "not enough."

I pray today, just for today, that I am enough and even when I don't feel like I am enough ... that I will open myself to the truth that there is a power greater than myself who is enough.

A good day

I'm glad to report that today was a good day. I met with a woman about a potential meeting spot for a new SLAA group in the area and it looks promising. I am thankful for the willingness to be open to God's leadership in my life. I pray for the continued willingness to be honest.

One of the things that is hardest about living life as an addict -- whether it is as a sex, people or food addict -- is the inability to be consistent. A good day never feels like it will last and enthusiasm feels like it will eventually allude me. But still, I have been consistent in my effort to "stick with" recovery, even when I thought it wasn't doing me a damn bit of good.

As a result, I am seeing the benefits of recovery in my life -- even if they are sometimes only glimpses. Still they give me hope for a brighter tomorrow.

I also wanted to report that it was a great weekend with my husband. We just enjoyed one another's company and did a few things together that made us both smile. That felt really good.

I have a class tomorrow that should help me get a head start on the freelance work I want to do. I am really looking forward to being in a classroom again and learning. In some ways, every day is a new class, a new learning experience. But sometimes it is nice to be in a learning environment. I am taking three classes (some of them, like the one tomorrow is just a one day class) this fall and I'm looking forward to all of them.

Thanks to all of you who read and offer your supportive comments. I really appreciate them and they give me a little more reason to "keep going."

Like friends do

I spoke to R. yesterday. His voice sounded familiar ... but the feelings (neither love nor hurt) didn't churn inside my stomach until they turned to hurt or anger. We just talked and then hung up, like friends do.

I went to a writer's group for the first time last night and absolutely loved it. It was great to be among other creative types and also to hear some really good work. Mostly it was great to have others hear my writing and say ... "Wow" and sincerely mean it. It was a good boost for me.

I'm doing some recovery writing work around my stepfather and that seems to be going well. When I know it is time for me to sit down with it, I feel a little scattered and try to distract myself with other things ... but at the moment, it's at least not sex with strangers. To be completely honest, I do have someone I am talking to daily, developing a friendship with that will likely be sexual during the times that he is in town, which is about once a month.

Whenever I am in these types of relationships I know I separate myself from my husband, not to mention the higher power that guides me in all my life's choices.

Today

Sometimes I think it would be better if I wrote here every day ... but some days I'm too wrapped up in my disease, other days I'm doing my best to run from it. In an old post -- from July 2004 -- I write about my parallel lives, and say that someday I hope me and Rae meet. So, sometimes I don't write here because I am totally out of tune with which life I am leading: the successful business woman (who, by the way, has recently decided to launch her freelance career), or the sex, love and food addict with depression who sometimes can't get out of the house, or only gets out to have sex with a stranger or two.

It's funny, along the way, I have had a lot of people who read this blog or in the recovery rooms and even my therapists warn me about the dangers of meeting strangers from the Internet. At one level, I always know they are right, at another, I think people would find it interesting to meet all the people I have meet online and in person. I've been lucky that I've never (yet, due to the grace and protection of God) met a real whack job, though I have met a few people who have wanted to do disgusting or humiliating things to me, or vice versa -- wanted me to do those things to them. I have been "fortunate" to have met some very interesting people. A lot of men who are lonely in their marriages, those who are simply wildly horny and as obsessed with sex as I am, and some genuinely nice people who don't know what they are looking for. I've had some amazing conversations, made some good friends, and even been inspired by some of these people I've met. They range from highly successful executives and business owners to blue collar, financially strapped husbands, who just need a little relief from the day to day stresses of life. Some of them, I feel, take bigger risks than me, and I often tell them so. Read my post from earlier this month, where I wrote a letter to one of my "suitors" who had sent me erotic pictures of himself using his real name. He responded with indignation and threatened to use "all his resources" to protect himself. From what? Me? I am not the threat.

A number of you have read my blog for some time ... some of you probably feel sorry for me, others may think I'm a self-righteous whore. You may wonder if I ever think of the wives and the families that are being impacted by my continuing to live in my disease. The answer is yes. It feeds my need to hate myself. I used to think of them a lot more. Now I often only think of the men, and how I use them ... and often toss them away, leaving them feeling rejected and worthless and used. Again, it feeds my need to hate myself. (By the way ... I welcome all comments and questions. Sometimes i can't see my own stuff as well as I can see the stuff of others.)

In the dynamic of my parallel lives, there is a part of me that actually likes many things about myself. This diseased self, I am afraid I will always hate who I am. It reminds me that my mother used to tell me, "Love and hate can't dwell in the same heart." I was talking today to a man I met yesterday. This was our second meeting, and after our first, he told me he felt guilty. Today again he feels guilty ... feels that he has let down himself, God, his family. Like me ... he has the civil war inside his head.

Respite

I've felt a little bit of relief the past couple of days from my need to find sexual partners far and wide and have a lot of anonymous sex. I still am corresponding with some potential partners and even had coffee today with someone who could have been a potential partner, but it was far more enjoyable just to talk to him. Sometimes creating this "connection" to the sexual partners is a horrendously tiring effort. Instead getting validation by having a mentally stimulating conversation, without sexual expectations is truly fulfilling.

I shared with the gentleman I met this afternoon ... There are three things that really muck up our happiness in life: 1. Ego, 2. Guilt and 3. Expectation. It certainly is so in my life ... and it seemed to resonate with him.

A letter to help someone else

Dear D,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ain't No Love in Here

I recently heard a woman speak at an OA meeting ... she was fantastic in her story telling. Something she said about her refrigerator keeps sticking with me though. She said she has a note on her refrigerator that says, "Ain't No Love in Here."

For people, like me, who struggle with compulsive overeating, they find comfort and love and understanding in food. Food is a place they can retreat and be pleased ... not to mention, shamed and degraded.

I read this in an e-zine this morning, "Compulsive overeating is accompanied with much guilt and shame. People with this condition often feel that they are not good enough and are ashamed that they could not control their eating habits. This only makes it worse because their negative feelings only lead them to more compulsive overeating. Food is how compulsive overeaters deal with their craving for acceptance and appreciation. Some use their overweight appearance to keep people away because they subconsciously feel undeserving of love, while others use it as punishment whenever they feel bad about themselves. One does not become successful in overcoming this condition unless they gather up the courage to face the real emotions they are afraid to feel and unless they can honestly admit the issues that cause them to be stuck in this destructive behavior. All this of course, would be a difficult accomplishment without professional help and the support of friends and loved ones."

For me, my compulsive overeating and sexual addiction are closely intertwined ... for it was in being sexual violated beginning at age 3, that I turned to food for comfort and protection.

As I was trying to pull myself away from the computer this morning ... where I sometimes sit for hours, chatting, e-mailing, searching for that "hit" or that person to meet ... I thought of the woman's note on her refrigerator ... Ain't No Love In Here.

If I were to post a personals ad that said ... "There is a hunger of the body, a thirst of the mind, but it is the craving of my soul that cannot be satisfied," I wonder if any human power could ever satisify that? I think not.

Update

Well, it's 11:15 p.m. and I leave in a few minutes to pick up dear hubby from the airport. So far today, by the grace of God, I am abstinent in OA, sober in SLAA and rested enough to make the 30 minute drive over to the airport. I contacted five churches today about using their facilities for a weekly SLAA meeting, and am awaiting responses. I went to an OA meeting at a residential treatment center for girls with eating disorders. I called the woman I wrote about earlier who might be a potential sponsor. She said she already had too many sponsees, but I could call her anytime. I was thankful. I called someone else who could be a potential sponsor, but she was not home, and I left a message saying, "You don't have to call me back." And I looked up the names and numbers (for the third or fourth time)of some therapists that are in my insurance plan and called and left a message for one of them. I went to a restaurant for dinner, with the intention of eating some binge foods, and found myself full after eating a healthy, nutritious dinner.

I'm thankful to my friend for writing me, to God for allowing me to take an honest look at what I am doing. I know that this is just one day, tomorrow will have its own set of struggles. That's why we do this, one day ... and for me, one minute at a time.

A humble reply

I wrote the following in response to a recovery friend's question, "How are you doing?" It is a humbling truth about me, a woman who seems unwilling to work her program of recovery:


To be honest, I don't know how I am doing. I feel stuck in the warp of food and sexual addiction ... God "told" me -- not nuts, just the message I got while I was walking -- go to gym every day. If you don't do anything else, go to the gym every day. I stopped going. My doctor told me eat a little bit of protien and the rest fruits and vegetables, with only a few carbs every day. I didn't listen. My inner core tells me to pray and meditate every day, instead I waste my time looking for either new sex partners or new love partners. My OA friends say, you have to get a sponsor. I call people in OA, but never the people who I want to be my sponsor. I am paralyzed when I think of calling them. You've told me, others have told me -- get a counselor, but day after day I don't make the call. I need an SLAA program in my area, and at one time had the willingness to start it. But every day passes by ... I don't make the contacts to the church that I need to. I am still going to OA meetings, but have stopped my Al-Anon meetings almost all together. Instead I isolate and act out. I know, I have seen, God has shown me, honesty and acceptance are my two keys. I still lie, I still judge, I still expect outcomes, I still eat and have sex with strangers to make up for the "lack" of my expectations being met.


Why, you ask. Why, I ask. I don't know my friend, other than it seems that I don't want to get well. That's a lie and we both know it. It's all a bondage of self, a disease ridden self destined to kill herself one way or the other. The third step prayer says ... "God please release me from the bondage of self." Some days, the shame of all that has been and all that is keeps me from even praying, "God give me the willingness." Yesterday, when I wanted to go get a whole package of snack cakes and eat them, or go home and post an ad and find a dinner and bed partner for the evening (My husband is out of town.) I struggled with the voice inside that said, "make a call, go to a meeting." But I shrieked out ... "God give me the willingness." And I made two calls til I found someone who was going to a meeting and said "See you there." On the way home, I still wanted to stop and get those snack cakes, but I just kept driving and had the willingness to pray, "God, just get me home. There's nothing there that can hurt me too much." When I talk about the shame to even pray ... it's my codependence there ... I'm even codependent with God. I feel like such a disappointment. It's one thing when you do all these things and you don't know better. It's another when you know and you just keep going ... you don't take the action. But, guess what? The first step says ... "We are powerless." My friend, I am powerless. But I am not hopeless.


There is a woman who spoke at two different OA meetings last week ... and I feel that she could be the answer to my ongoing silent and spoken prayer to God for a sponsor who can help me. I had the willingness to ask if I could call her this week, to which she said, "Please do.", the willingness to write down her number and I am terrified to call her -- I can even at times feel the call of my disease saying "But I don't want to get better." But I am going to call. Let me rephrase that ... I am continually praying for the willingness to call her, without any expectation of the outcome, other than praying ... "If this is the one, let her say yes." The answer will come one way or another. There is something in "How It Works" in the AA Big Book that says ... "No human power could have saved us." And the further down the spiral I go, the more I realize how true it is. A sponsor can help me, but no one, and especially not me, can save me. That's the humble, honest truth.


Thank you, my friend, for asking. Thank you God for giving me the humble and sobering answer I needed to write.

All I can do ...

... is cry. I'm in a pain I don't understand. It's getting worse, now I can't even feel the pain. I can feel sadness. I can feel hopelessness at times ... just waiting until the disaster gets big enough to make me stop, makes me get off my ass and do what I need to do to get a job, to get the house in order, literally and figuratively.

I really am treating myself badly lately, hating myself, unable and worse, unwilling, to step out of the cycle. Standing on the outside ... looking in.

Taking stock

I've had a rough couple of weeks that have just passed. I had been doing very well with my food and for a long, long time with my sex and love addiction issues. But relapse came on like a thunderstorm in both program ... the sex, notably after the food.

Today I went to the gym and walked for 50 minutes. I watched "Spanglish" on TV as I walked and it made me think of a conversation I had last night with one of the latest men my addiction is courting, in which we agreed (or I deferred to his sanity)that what we were pursuing was merely a friendship. God knows if that's what I was pursuing or not, but it certainly deflated any ideas that this man was going to become the next "love of my life." After my walk, I went to the bathroom crying ... I seem to be doing that a lot lately ... I can't stop crying. I cry at every emotion that comes up. Anyway, as I'm in the stall in the bathroom I just say to whatever force is listening ... "I don't think things will ever be OK." The message back was a "Do you trust me?" message and a reassurance that things will not always be this way. I was also reminded to keep going to the gym, quit lying about going to the gym, and actually go there and exercise every day, no matter what. Exercise is good for my mental condition and it also gets me out of the house.

Just for a point of record, I need to note here that over the past week I met a different man every day (M-F)and had sex with three of them. When I am away from the situation, it is hard to say how I feel about it ... Obviously, I'm walking around crying at the drop of a hat, so this behavior is emotionally damaging. Likewise, I can't focus on anything and the need for "more" is always there. Yesterday I was with my husband and also for the most part today ... so the food didn't seem to call me much. At some points the sex and love addiction did. I'm just trying to make it through this latest storm and am thankful that I see at least one window every day where I find the willingness to say a prayer.

I went to a meeting yesterday and the day before I called people on my outreach list ... but still I am in the mode of life where I am watching myself from the outside in. My behavior seems like my own, but there seems to be this sane person who just sits back and lets all the insanity happen, numbed to the effects. I guess this is all about PTSD, I honestly don't know. I wonder sometimes if I need to go to a psychiatrist for testing ... but then I'm not even making the appointments with the counselor.

One day at a time ... I am just going on. I am thankful for the small successes, the many miracles and the willingness to just keep going.

Feeling blessed

I am truly thankful today for the grace of God in my life, that there are people who truly and unequivocally love me, they think I am a wonderful person, they see in me what I cannot always see in myself.

I am thankful today to have had calls and messages and e-mails from family and friends old and new, all expressing one single message -- I am loved.

I am thankful today that someone cared enough about me to pass along my resume to an important person at an important company and that tomorrow I will go for an interview there.

I am thankful to see the absolutely beautiful success of my niece, who I mourned over the fact that she got married right out of high school and never went to college. Today she told me of the new business office she is setting up and we talked about marketing plans. I am so proud of her and thankful for her presence in my life and thankful for the example of a 17-year marriage that has had its ups and downs but keeps going strong.

I feel so totally blessed to be a part of the 12-step fellowship, and specifically to feel a part of the family of my OA home group. I need that sense of family in my life ... and am thankful to God for giving it to me.

I am thankful for the words inside a card today from my husband that said, "Thank you for coming to (this place) with me and for going through all the trouble." That was a precious acknowledgement.

I am thankful that 39 years ago today a baby was born to a single mother struggling already to feed three kids, and that that baby grew into a little girl, a young woman, and the woman who writes to you today with tears in her eyes filled with humility and a true sense of gratitude for ALL that she has become.

Happy birthday to me. I didn't open a single wrapped package, but oh what a wealth of gifts I have received.

It only starts with one bite

I just ate two packages of M&Ms to "get them out of the house" since I bought them the other day when I bought the chocolate cake.

One day last week, I had the choice to buy an apple fritter or not. I did ... and every day since then, I have eaten compulsively.

I had the choice ... I struggled with the choice ... I made the choice. I remember hearing God's voice say inside me ... and if you buy this, how are you going to say no tomorrow?

Lessons learned the hardest ...

My life as a food addict and a liar

I just sat in my car outside and abandoned building in a strip mall and ate a double serving size of chocolate cake from the local grocery store, so that I could throw out the evidence of the cake's existence (the package and the fork used to eat it with) in the trash can in front of me. I drove home, unloaded the rest of the groceries -- which included many healthy items that went into the fridge -- and three packs of peanut butter M&Ms that went into a secret hiding place in the guest room. I then loaded all the recycling into the paper bag I brought from grocery store (which still contained the receipt from the store) and took it to the garbage. There! All evidence gone. And when I came back in ... I moved my tennis shoes from the location where they were this morning when my husband left to a different spot, so the he will believe the lie that I actually went to the gym this morning to work out.

Thus is my life as a food addict and a liar. We won't even go into the ongoing online conversations I am having with men about sex or why it is I need to lie to my husband rather than tell him the truth.

I had been doing so well in recovery -- in all aspects. Then suddenly I stopped praying first thing every morning, stopped doing daily meditations, cut back on meetings, began to isolate, and here I am -- eating chocolate cake (which is just one in a long line of binge foods I have eaten over the past few days) and putting more effort into hiding my behavior rather than change it. I find it hard now to ask for the willingness to begin my program again. I want to continue to get attention from strangers who can tell me sight unseen that I am the sexiest woman they've ever known. I want them the want me to the point of frustration ... only for me to decide to go back into recovery from sexual addiction.

The food plays into all of this ... because it is my comfort from loneliness ... and often in these online endeavours I am rejected -- often because the person who was so keen on me before seeing my picture, suddenly becomes extremely disinterested, sometimes to the point of not wanting to talk after seeing my picture. So with each encounter I am putting my self-esteem, which is already in the toilet, on the line. And when it is raped (well, they say you can't rape the willing right?) one more time, I am lonely and hurt and turn to the food.

It's a cycle that goes on and on. One that only recovery can stop ... and recovery comes one day, one decision at a time.

I can still hide the truth

During a recent exchange with a new writer friend, I shared a couple of pieces of my writing. One of which is posted below. He wrote back saying, "Even with your education and world travel, your cultural and family ties run deep. Definitely sounds alot like The Waltons, something I can't relate to. I envy you what you miss. My house was somewhere to stay away from when I was a kid."

I had to smile when I read his words ... The secret was still hidden behind the laughter wasn't it?

I wrote back:
Thank you for your note, some keen observations. Though I must say, it's interesting to know that I can still fool people. I grew up in a home that I needed to escape as well. I did it every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night and as soon as I could I went to college. I was raised in a poor, uneducated family, filled with shame and a constant feeling of being less than. Some of my life, which I have written about in "Country Music," was filled with love, but there was never a doubt in my mind that I was going to get out quickly and go to college. I was never going to be as weak as my mother who had no choice but to stay with an emotionally abusive husband, and listen to the silence as I kept the family secret of what was happening to me while she wasn't around. Marrying a man who is brilliant, educated to the highest degree, and from a culture so different than my own, a set of values much different than mine was another form of escaping. I've been on the run for a long, long time. Now maybe you know what's really missing.

The writing that I sent him:

Country Music

“Country music singers have always been a real close family,” Hank Williams, Jr. told the world back in the 70s.

I grew up listening to the stories of love and the heartbreak told to the rhythm of the guitar, whine of the fiddle and beat of the drum.

I, too, have felt that country music singers were a part of my family, because their rhythms have defined most every step of my life.

My earliest memories revolve around watching Hee Haw with my grandma on Saturday nights. In my early days, I spent most every Saturday night at her house, and we’d just laugh and “have a big time,” as she would say. She loved Minnie Pearl, with her big hat – the price tag still dangling from the brim – and Grandpa Jones. Myself, I always loved to hear Roy Clark and Buck Owens when they’d declare, “I’m a pickin’.” “And, I’m a grinnin’.”

We’d watch the whole hour as if it were a new experience.

Generally, earlier in the day we’d watch Dolly Parton and Porter Wagoner as they performed on their own show. Porter would be in his rhinestone-covered leisure suit and Dolly looked beautiful in her long, sequined dresses and big, blonde wig and “painted-on face.” But regardless of what they wore or even the songs they sang, it was just so good to be there with Grandma enjoying a country song.

Grandma also had an 8-track tape of Porter with songs about the “Carroll County accident” and a bear that was “big around the middle and broad across the rump.” She played it over and over on her old console stereo and we’d smile and sing along, laughing every time the bear song came on, and crying sometimes when we heard about the accident.

All we had at home, for most of my life, was a standalone record player, where Momma would let us listen all day long during the hot summer months to scratched up albums of Loretta Lynn and Lynn Anderson.

There were some old albums my older brother had left behind with funny looking singers with names like Herman’s Hermits and The Animals, but I never liked to listen to those.
I’d much rather sing along with Momma as we listened to Loretta Lynn tell us, “I was born a coal miner’s daughter.”

I loved that song because it sparked Momma to talk about her father and his days in the coal mines, and it reminded me of the first movie I ever got to see at the drive-in theater – “Coal Miner’s Daughter.”

My mother and my grandmother were my two best friends in the world. They died a year apart in the early 1990s, but they live on in the country music that I used to hear and the music that I still hear today.

It’s as easy as pie for me to close my eyes and remember Grandma begging my oldest and dearest niece – the only one of our family blessed with a singing voice – to sing the words of Conway Twitty’s “Tight Fittin’ Jeans,” or hear Momma’s voice singing along with Lynn Anderson as she reminded us all “I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden.”
Grandma never wore a pair of jeans in her life, and Momma never had a rose garden – but they both got joy out of those songs that left a special smile on their faces and in their hearts that they couldn’t have found any other place but in a country song.

I find myself smiling those smiles sometimes when I hear a song that takes me back in time or holds a special meaning in my heart.

There are literally hundreds of country songs that touch me in those ways.

The late Charlie Rich sang a song, “Rollin’ with the Flow.” My oldest brother, Larry, has driven a truck since he was old enough to – which was before I was born. His trips all across the country delivering what other people needed usually meant he wasn’t home to visit Momma very often.
But every time I heard Charlie Rich’s voice over the radio, singing, “On and on I go, I keep on rolling with the flow,” I knew Larry was coming home.

Within a day, or at the most two, of hearing the song, Larry would call Momma on the phone and we’d all load up in our little Pinto and drive over to our small town's little haven for truckers, to meet him.

I remember other times when our family would go off on a day-trip, my younger sister, and my niece (who was just four years younger than me) and I riding inside the camper shell of Daddy’s pick up truck and singing the songs of Ronnie Milsap, Kenny Rogers and anything ever recorded by Alabama at the top of our lungs.

As long as we live, those will be memories that only the three of us can truly understand or treasure.

As I’ve grown older, country songs primarily remind me of certain times or certain people in my life. If I hear an old Alabama song, I think of those growing up years, thinking Randy Owen was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. If I hear Brooks and Dunn sing “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” I think of those college days when “Slappin’ Leather” was the craze and when I hear the Judds croon out, “Mama He’s Crazy,” I think of that first love and how I tried to tell Momma about him through the song.

When a new job for my husband uprooted me from the only home I’ve ever known, Kenny Chesney gave me company and made me smile with his song, “Back Where I Come From.” There was comfort in hearing “It’s where I’ll be when it’s said and done,” and knowing I wasn’t gone forever.

Alan Jackson captured almost every emotion that rushed through my veins September 11, 2001 when “the world stopped turning” and soon after Brooks and Dunn reminded me just how special it was to live in this great country with their song, “Only in America.”

Almost every step of my life can be directly linked to a country song or artist. There are songs that make me smile, inside and out, because they are funny or uplifting or remind me of a simpler time and life. And there are those that make me cry real face-wrinkling tears, either because they touch me or because they make me remember.

Country music has given me a voice, an understanding, and a friend.

She said, he said ... now what?

I wrote to M. on Tuesday:

On Saturday when we talked something happened that I want you to know about. It was a profound revelation of an undeniable truth.

Within a second of you saying (you were going on a date that day) tears started rolling down my cheeks and continued throughout our conversation and turned into sobs when we hung up. The fact that they came to my eyes at the thought of you entering into a possibly "healthy" relationship revealed all the truth to me. I could no longer deny that for a long, long time, for much of our friendship, I have been using you as an object of my love addiction -- a "back up" plan if you will, a stash of some sort. Over the years, despite many "signs," I had pushed aside any doubts I had about the legitimacy of my interest in a deep and loving friendship with you. On Saturday I felt all the shame, pain, loss, and regret of the undeniable truths that revealed themselves in the stinging tears. I could only wonder how much pain and harm I had caused us both. I asked God to let me feel it all and I sat with it.

I am not at a point in my program to make amends, nor am I ready. There are more steps for me to take in my own life, more inventory, more to learn from slowly unpeeling the onion of all my dishonesty and mistrust with others and myself. But when the time comes, and my understanding is complete, I will owe you an amends. For now, I will simply say, I am sincerely sorry. There is no doubt I genuinely care for you and would never intentionally hurt you, or use you to hurt myself. Our disease doesn't live by intention though.

I am telling you this, first because I feel the need to apologize, to be honest, and second because I want you to know the truth.

Today M. wrote me a message:

I got your e-mail. There is no need to fret. You didn't do anything wrong. Your disease brings shame when there is nothing to be ashamed about. Nothing can hurt our friendship, nothing. Do you understand?

I'm relieved that he finally wrote, because I have been obsessing about his thoughts ... and now I am doing my best just to sit with my feelings about his response.

Life on Life's Terms

Speaking of being interviewed ... I had a job interview today. It went well and I didn't obsess over it like I did the last interview. This was for a job that I think I can easily handle. Am I more qualified than the requirements? Could I make more money? Yes ... but as I've said before, I just don't want to set myself up for failure. My life, my focus has changed, my ability to "lead" has changed ... even my desire to lead.

I'm at a point where my recovery, my healing ... those are the things that are important.

I am also at a point where I want to go back to school possibly and also to focus on my writing. Over the past week or so at least three people said ... "You need to write." I gave a friend the advice to write two pages a day, no matter what it was about, and I think I have to do the same. What comes of it, will come of it. I just have to keep the discipline. This is something that can fill my time rather than focusing on how I'm going to escape with food and sex and codependency. I can escape into my writing. At least I can be insane that way ... like all the other good writers.

I just have to note here ... I am shocked beyond belief that I went to PA and didn't act out and didn't break my food plan. I am shocked and filled with gratitude. This recovery stuff is working for me. They always said it would.

I've been interviewed ...

The Recovering Wino, http://stayathomemotherdom.blogspot.com/ offered to interview me for her blog, as a way of sharing a little blog love. Here are my answers to her questions:

1) I understand your situation because I have been there before. How do you work at dealing with the longing you feel for someone you are addicted to and are trying to resist? How do you deal with the anger? Is it working?

I am in a 12 step recovery program for sex and love addicts, I'm also in other 12-step programs, and I use the tools of those programs to help me get the focus off other people and back on myself. But those programs or the people in them are not my saviors ... they can't take away my desire to have sex with a stranger or to carry on an extramarital affair. My brain is broken, I don't think clearly when it comes to intimate and sexual relationships. I'm trying to heal old wounds. So ... in order to deal with the longing, I have to use all the tools I have to "prevent" the longing from coming on -- I have to go to meetings, call recovery friends, read literature, eat properly, stay present in the moment and when the cravings get really bad, I know that I have messed up somewhere along the way and for now the only thing I can do is either one go to bed or two get out and move. Whatever I do, I have to get out of my head.
How do I deal with anger ... this is a good one. I have trouble with anger. I don't feel it or I feel it extremely. My anger is usually misdirected and I have to admit that I simply am a work in progress when it comes to anger. Many of the same tools I mentioned above, as well as the Serenity Prayer, help me to deal with anger.
Is it working? Well, lately, I don't get all worked up about the bad days like I used to. And I feel a greater connection to my Higher Power, feel more like I'm on a path and have choices, so yeah, I'd say it's working. Not to mention, I have not met a complete stranger for sex in almost a year. (As opposed to a regular daily dose for several years.) I have had only one "casual" sexual encounter in that same time and was able to end a year long affair that I truly thought was going to do me in.

(2) How long have you been married? What initially attracted you to your husband?
I have been married for almost nine years. I think I was initially attracted to his intelligence, and I liked that he was attracted to me. Through therapy I have come to realize that I was also attracted to him because he comes from a background so different than mine and I just wanted to run away from everything I'd ever known.

(3) What is one of the most significant moments in your life?
One? There have been many changing points ... but I'd mention one here that has been in my mind lately as its anniversary is coming up in three days. My mother died when I was 25 years old and the aftermath of that has been incredible. I was very close to my mother and her death was devasting. On the day of her funeral, I saw my biological father for the first time. He had never acknowledged me. Later after everyone left the house, my stepfather, who had molested and abused me from the time I was three years old, tried to seduce me, telling me that I wasn't actually his daughter, so it was OK. Today, 14 years later, I realize that my mother's death was a gift. No longer did she have to live with my horrible stepfather, I also could begin the slow and painful process of healing from my abuse. I never told a soul about what happened to me until after she died. It was hiding the secrets that made it the hardest to live with.

(4) Do you believe in God? What do you believe?
Yes, I believe in God, but most likely not the same version of God that you will take on your mission trip. For me, God is in every living thing, and I am also a part of God. When I can feel the strength of the wind, I know that I am in that wind and it is in me. When someone shares something deep and meaningful with me, I know that they are a vessel of God's message to me. I don't believe I have the omnipotent powers of that higher being, but I believe that the powers of that omnipotent being are with me.

(5) What is your favorite website and why?
I love the web and blogs. I guess if I had to pick a favorite website I'd say it's mail.yahoo.com, because it's how I keep in touch. But I also am lately loving a blog by a young man in Alabama named Andrew. He's an addict and a schizoprenic who writes about his daily life. You can find him at http://4thavenueblues.blogspot.com/

Checking in after a brief hiatus

Wow! It felt good to come back from my trip and find some comments. It's nice to be read and to get your feedback.

So... a few things going on here, but mostly good. I just returned from a weekend trip to visit some friends in PA ... the state where my sex addiction first started to go haywire. I had my first extramarital affair there in 2003 (read all about it right here at Rae's Confessions) and what a crazed and blessed life I have lived since. It was the onset (or resurfacing) of my disease in my marriage that led me to seek counseling and begin dealing at a professional level with not only my latest "symptom" (my SLA issues) but also the grueling effects of my childhood sexual abuse. And I can see how my recovery program in SLAA has lead me to the work I'm now doing in OA. I can look back now and see the ways addictions and compulsions have been a gift to me. But, damn, it's been a tough road to get here. Still I am thankful for the awareness, the healing and the friendships I have made along this path. And I am also glad that there is more to come. -- Remind me of that, will you?

While I was visiting this "old stomping grounds," it was impossible to avoid reminders of my sexual escapades, and some diseased temptations to reconnect with some of those old acting out partners. I remember that it was one of the hardest things about continuing to live in that area after I got into recovery. On every corner, every exit, every street there was a reminder of one of the countless men I met on the Internet and acted out with. Some of them were "regulars" -- regular enough that I could have gotten their phone numbers this weekend and contacted them and gone right back to where I was years ago -- used and disrespected, using and disrespecting.

However, I've learned this little prayer that is so helpful to me. It goes "Please give me the willingness ..." I was thankful that I didn't have to use that tool a lot because I spent a lot of time with an old SLAA buddy and it was as if we had a 24 hour meeting, sharing experience, strength and hope with one another, reading to each other, and living life on life's terms. Likewise, I spent some time fully present with all the friends I was able to see on this short trip, and was amazed at how good it felt to be present and truly enjoy the company of others.

While I was in Pennsylvania, R married S. He had called me about two or three weeks ago to tell me that he was getting married. At the time I was sad and angry because I couldn't believe I had gone through such emotional turmoil over the past year and put myself in so many compromising situations, almost left my marriage, only to be hit head on with the reality that he is a love addict too and I was never really the point in his diseased mind. Finding someone who was willing to say yes, was the point. Anyway, I spent a few days after his call really struggling ... thinking "Oh God, just wait til the day he gets married. I'll be miserable."

Hell no, I wasn't miserable at all ... I spent the whole day laughing and talking with "real" friends and strengthening real friendships. I even had the chance to share some 12-step stuff with a friend who is dealing with an alcoholic spouse. And when there was no one around and I might have had the chance to wallow around in self pity that day, my brother (who is recovering from triple bypass surgery) called and we had a great long conversation. After we hung up there was another chance to get down in the dumps ... but the phone rang again and an old college friend called to catch up. All of this is to the credit of my Higher Power. I asked for him to help me and he did. Pretty simple stuff, but it took me a long time to ask, a long time to trust and a long time to be aware of all the ways God was helping me when I could not help myself.

Likewise, I was not very trusting that I would be able to make it through those five days out of town, away from the hawk eyes of my husband and not eat like a pig. BUT ... I didn't. I stuck to my food plan of three meals a day. I didn't eat exactly as the doctor had told me to last week in terms of eating on a palm size portion of meat and the rest fruits and veggies, with a limited amount of carbs. I ate pasta and pizza and rice and I didn't eat enough vegetables and I did eat dessert (which keeps me from claiming pure abstinence), but I am thrilled that I passed by literally dozens of opportunities to gorge myself with food. I think I was so happy to actually have the feeling of being "present" in the world that I didn't want to mess that up.

I got to share about OA with a couple of my younger friends who have both gained a whole lot of weight since I last saw them. At 23 and 25, they are both significantly obese, and one of them is considering surgical options of weight loss. I just told them how I was feeling about my program. If they go, they go. If they don't, they don't. I doubt i would have gone at their age. But in retrospect, I sure wish I had.

There were some other profound truths that were revealed to me while I was away as well -- including eliminating some denial in my life surrounding my close friendship with M -- my former sponsor, longtime recovery friend, who I had a phone sex relationship with and then became close friends with again. We talked on Saturday and he told me he had a date. Without any warning, tears began streaming down my face and after we hung up they turned in to sobs. Those first tears confirmed something I had been trying to deny for so long -- maybe as long as I had known him -- I have been using M. as a object of my love addiction. I am thankful for all the feelings I was able to feel surrounding that revelation, and thankful for the betraying tears that lead me to say to myself, "You cannot deny this any longer." I wrote a letter to him this morning and am doing my best not to obsessively check my e-mail to see if he responded. Even if he doesn't say a word ... I felt it was important for me to come clean and let him know what was going on in my mind. He's not always so good about being that honest.

Last night at home was also a little rough ... sometimes it is so hard to make a decision to stay in a marriage and not expect it to be perfect. Well ... mine is far from perfect and I sometimes feel inadequate to even get started on fixing it. I think for now, I'll just work on fixing me.

Oh ... and today R. sent me a text to say that the wedding went well ... just in case you all wanted to know. (Hear the gagging reflex in the background?)

All I can do

I woke up this morning and I really don't feel good. I have a headache. I feel tired, and I feel vulnerable to using the Internet to connect with unhealthy people and food to bring me comfort.

I'm upset because I'm really not losing that much weight even though I've given up the comforts of sugary foods and the convenience of drive throughs.

I feel disconnected from the world, as if I have no friends, and even those friends I have ... I don't want to, don't feel like connecting to them.

R. is getting married this week and I suppose that is weighing on my mind. I wrote him a letter yesterday saying among other things ...

"And as good as we were, as much love and feelings as we shared, as much determination as we both had -- there was something more for both of us. More revelations, more healing, and a clearer path for me. For you, a shining love with a full commitment and a full life. Honesty for both of us. We were the catalysts for unleashing in one another what had been locked away for so long. I am thankful we had the chance to take those first steps together toward progress and life. I know, despite the pain and the outcome, that you were a gift from God to me and I will be forever grateful."

I'm obsessing a bit over my friend M. -- the one who used to be my sponsor until we started having a phone sex relationship. Then we became friends again. And now it feels like I want to connect to him, but I'm feeling the toxicity of the relationship. I think I want to connect to him for "sick" reasons -- not that I want to act out with him sexually, but that maybe he's just been a love interest in disguise all this time. I don't know. I do know he's ignoring me for a reason -- and I suspect it may be because he's acting out in some way himself. Oh well, as I'm trying to learn in recovery ... that's none of my business. I have enough to focus on right here inside my own little hoola-hoop.

I've been half-heartedly trying to look for a job, but I get these spurts of energy and then I have to force myself to do anything.

I think I'm going to go back to bed for a little while. If I end up staying there all day, so be it. If I wake up feeling better ... that will be great. I am trying to do my part these days to make my life better. I don't know how well I'm doing at that. I feel like today I am willing to wallow in pity and isolate. That's not exactly my part. But it feels like all I can do today.

Progress

I came back home yesterday after a short holiday weekend trip with my husband. We spent the entire weekend in the majesty of natural beauty ... and it was fantastic. I did a lot of walking, animal watching, and a bit of people watching. Together we enjoyed much of our time ... other times we fought. I hate fighting, but I'm beginning to get a clearer picture that it is going to continue if I don't continue to work on me.

Last night there was a fight when we got home ... I was very hurt by his cruel and loud words ... but I went to the other room and stayed there. It was my only way of protecting myself. This morning I got up and resolved the 'issue" that started the fight and expressed my hurt and anger at his behavior, without a tear shed. Progress. I'm glad.

One of my faithful readers asked about how "the job thing" is going ... Past job stuff is just sitting there, but I have a committment to applying for at least five jobs this week.

Carry on my friends. Thanks for reading.

Today

R. called again today ... I didn't answer the phone. I know what he would say ... "How are you handling all this?" and apologize for hurting me. He left a message saying "I was just wanting to talk to you." Yeah, well not me.

I went and beat the shit of a rock today with a hammer and used the hammer on some crappy gift he gave me once -- a wooden bookmark that he bought me while he was flirting with some woman with a dog.

I'm not good at doing anger ... but I tried to get out as much as I could.

My sponsor in OA told me today that she had only agreed to be my temporary sponsor and I needed to look for someone else. I felt rejected ... but I'm just trying to focus on the fact that if God wanted this woman in my life he would have left her there.

Regrets

The man who I ended a one year affair with at the end of March called me this afternoon to say he is getting married in two weeks.

I regret that I gave so much of my life away to him, risked so much for him. I put myself in debt because I regretted that I ended our relationship. I put my marriage, my job, at times my life (driving faster than 90 mph to get to him as quickly as I could) on the line for someone who really only wanted someone to say yes. I did this all for someone who would get drunk and berate me to the point I felt like dieing and tell me what a horrible person I was because I wouldn't leave my husband to marry him.

As an added bonus, this afternoon, he described how much money he was going to have to pay to break the lease I established for him, how much he had to pay for taxes and tags on the car I bought him (for which he was supposed to repay me but hasn't paid a dime), and that the rings that he "had' to buy "really set them back." Then to add salt to the wound, he told me for their honeymoon, he's taking his new bride to the place where we had talked of getting married, the place we conceived a child that was never born.

I don't know how to feel. I feel anger mainly ... I want to scream I hate you ... but I hate myself the most. I'd love to blame my disease ... but my disease lives in me.

All this is perfect timing for the fact that I got the call for a job interview today. I hope I can channel my anger and all my emotions into getting the job and doing it well -- forever reminding me that this disease will take everything from me -- from top to bottom -- and will leave me with nothing but a bunch of tears and angry regrets for which I have no one to blame but me.

My Daily Prayer

Spirit of life, come unto me

Allow me to freefall and float into your deep and warm embrace, sure that I am loved and not alone.

Thank you, Lord, for the hour, the minute, and the day. May I walk it all fully aware of your presence, doing my part as I go.

Just for today, may I know my path and follow it.

May I see both my successes and shortcomings as gifts from you.

Help me to find balance and gratitude, bestowing upon me my portion and causing me to be satisfied.

Release me, if you will, from my fears and compulsions.

Put in my life the people and situations I need.

If I may serve you, oh Universe divine, please show me the way and give me the courage.

Give me the willingness today to accept life as it comes, knowing your will is wiser than mine.

I find in you what I cannot find in me.

You, and all you are, is in me and I am whole.

Change of plans

Well ... I went to SA instead. I was one woman in a room of at least 30 men. It was good to see that much support going on.

But before I left to go to the meeting, I took time to write a note to my husband just thanking him for the many ways he shows me he loves me in every day life. I took some time to think of those things ... because usually I go through life feeling cheated that he is not all lovey dovey with me, that he doesn't openly express his love. That we don't walk down the road all snuggled up. But I wanted to express gratitude for what i did have.

Well, when I got back from the meeting, he had gone back to work, but had left me a lilac stem in a glass, smelling perfectly, and a note that said, "Thanks for writing the lovely note. You are lovely." Needless to say that made me smile and brought tears to my eyes.

See what a little gratitude can do?

The willingness

I sit here tonight, having just finished eating my portion ... meaning the portion I allotted to myself on my food plan, knowing that I have the opportunity and the need to go to a meeting. Which meeting do I go to? I've struggled with both OA and sex addiction issues lately. I went to a codependency meeting earlier in the day. Sometimes I think I am "hiding out in recovery" ... going to meetings, not getting much done.

I mean, after all, I am sitting her on my ass procrastinating. I know where the OA meeting is ... and would need to look up the SA meeting. I can go to both an OA and an SA meeting tomorrow.

What I really want is for my husband to come home and for us to have a great conversation and laugh and love one another. It was after 8 before he came home last night. I use this fact to beat myself up and to justify acting out in my sex and love addiction.

I had the chance to act out today ... and I didn't. I stopped it. I am thankful.

Anyway... I'm doing good about making "just for today lists" and I think except for kidding myself on a couple of them ... I did pretty good today.

I had a happy dream in the afternoon. I was with a friend and we were laughing and having a good time. I want to laugh and have a good time. I don't know what happened.

Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today.

Better get going. I'm going to the OA meeting. I'll do OA and SA tomorrow, God willing.

These meetings always have something ...

I went to a sex addiction recovery meeting today and heard a woman recount a lifetime of powerlessness over her sexual behavior. To protect her anonymity, though her story is very similar to many female sex addicts, I won't go into many details except to say that from a young age her desire to have men seek after her and lust her was immense and uncontrollable. She always thought that if she tried a little harder, she could stop. If she got more therapy, or worked harder at being a "good person," she could stop. But she couldn't stop. She found herself time and time again back in the arms or lure of someone else, someone where she could get that connection of feeling 'loved.'

As she continued to talk the inevitable was revealed ... her father had sexually abused her as a child ... thus, much like mine and maybe others here, her mind as it relates to sexual relations and intimacy was completely damaged. She saw sex as a way to feel special and loved. I certainly could relate to that.

She spoke of having an affair several years ago with a married man and becoming pregnant with a child she later gave up for adoption, sharing the pain of that experience. This was apparently the the nerve that needed to be triggered in me. Some of you who have been around for awhile know that last year I also became pregnant with R's child and lost the baby before I knew I was carrying it. I have known that I stuffed so many feelings over that miscarriage and the pregnancy itself ... but I didn't realize how strong the emotions of grief and shame were that needed to come out until today. I couldn't wait to get out of the room. I sat there on the verge of spilling over. As soon as the closing prayer was done, I knew I was about to break. I started to sob before I got out of the church and cried and cried in my car before calling a friend and leaving a message sharing my feelings.

I can only think how lucky I have been ... I have acted out in unbelievable ways, reckless ways over the years without my husband finding out ... and getting pregnant was the one where I really could have been "caught." Yet, God gave me another chance ... And how did I use that chance? I continued to have an affair with the same man, until I left him to come to this new city to be with my husband and give a diligent effort to work on our marriage ... and what? I need comfort and I come >this< close to jumping into yet another affair that would totally rob me of my serenity, my self-worth, my ability to think. Granted, I learned some lessons from that ... but I really have to remind myself that this is a disease. I don't get to play around with it. I can resent my stepfather for abusing me, I can resent my husband for not expressing love the way I want him too ... but at the end of the day, I have a disease of addiction and compulsion and I am the only person responsible for working my program, getting honest, and realizing every single day ... this is serious business.

By the way ... guess what's on my phone when I get in the car crying my eyes out? A text message from R. -- who I haven't heard from in ages. I didn't respond and just for today, I won't.

Getting Honest

I went to an OA meeting this morning and heard someone share the story of her relapse in that program. She said, "I took my first compulsive bite, and was too proud to tell anyone what I did. I thought, 'I'll be OK tomorrow.' I kept eating compulsively for the next five years." I don't want to continue any of my compulsive behaviors for the next week, much less the next five years, SO I want to put aside my pride and ego, and get honest with my support system here.

I have struggled to some degree or other with my sex and love addiction issues since moving to a new city at the end of March. I have engaged in some online intrigue and posted ads on sites in order to attract people to contact me -- telling myself the lie that if they contact me, I can choose to ignore them later. Telling myself the even bigger lie that I can handle "just a little playing around." Even though I have been going to meetings for sex addiction recovery -- they have not been SLAA meetings, and I have used that group's definition of sober when it was convenient to say I was sober, and my own SLAA definition of sobriety to claim sobriety in that program. This disease is cunning, baffling and powerful and will play every deviate trick in the book to get its way.

The truth is, when I needed comfort -- false comfort having been removed when I began to get abstinent from compulsive overeating -- I sought that comfort by posting an online ad seeking an extramarital affair. Of course there was no shortage of responses ... but I found "just the right one" -- the one I could manipulate and control and sucker into "falling madly in love with me." I started a correspondence that involved me offering my sacred sexual self -- the part of me that was so abused and damaged in my childhood, and that is only starting to heal -- up for grabs, in return for the comfort of expressed love. This correspondence took away my serenity, my ability to be honest with myself and others, and reeled me further and further in toward the same situation I was in just before I made this move --- proving once again, that addictive love is not love at all, as it makes no difference who the person is, just so they are feeding the disease and giving my damaged self a way to damage itself more.

I had the opportunity to tell a good recovery friend the truth yesterday, but I didn't. I chose instead to focus on all that was going right in my life. The result was that last night I made plans to meet this new victim of my disease later in the week. And this morning, after hearing the woman speak about how her pride and dishonesty led her to a five year relapse, I saw the message from God. I was faced yet again with the humbling experience of admitting that I had knowingly sought to use another person to escape building a relationship with myself, my HP, my husband and those who truly love and care for me.

I am thankful for all I have learned in this:

God has all kinds of messengers. In this scenario, there was the woman who spoke at the meeting this morning and the man I was intriguing with. The woman said the words that helped me to connect to the parts of me that have sought and found recovery. The man was yet another reminder that my disease is still with me and will present itself over and over again, and it will do so to the detriment of myself and other human beings who have every right to be treated with dignity, not used.

This was also a reminder why one of the most important tools of recovery is going to meetings -- it is in meetings (and sharing and reading in these online forums) that we give and receive the messages God needs to pass along.

In working the steps and doing recovery work -- though not perfectly -- I am growing. There is progress. When I first came into the program ... I would never have even recognized that I was using the man to fulfill some unmet need for comfort. I would just have said ... "I'm an addict, I'm powerless. There's nothing I can do. I have to act on this compulsion." Likewise, I would have felt "bound" to have kept my promise of meeting him, and then obligated to fulfill his insistence for sex. I would not have seen that by seeking someone else, I was trying to escape the hard work and responsibility it takes to be an adult. I would never have prayed and asked God, "I need your help in keeping the willingness to end this today."

I also saw the need to get honest and be honest every day. It's not a lesson I haven't been presented with before ... but again, I hadn't learned the lesson well enough. This experience gave me another chance to incorporate this core truth into my recovery.

Loving Myself

This morning I woke up in a not so good place. I was arguing with God, feeling needy and depressed, starving for comfort and seeming to find it nowhere. I could see a day ripe for laying in bed all day or one filled with acting out in my food or sex addiction.

But I kept moving forward, I kept praying to find comfort within me, shared at an impromptu online meeting, was honest about my "need for comfort" feelings with my husband, expecting nothing in return, and responded when he said "Are you going to go for a walk," by going for a walk, rather than getting defensive.

When I got back from the walk, I was willing to make a call I had promised to a recovery friend and we simply talked about what was going on in her life and my share last night at a meeting. And she pulled out the following reading, without me ever saying a word about needing to find comfort. As she read, my prayers were answered. I share it with you in hopes that if you are having a rough day, you can remember that the love you need is there, and that prayers are answered -- our only part is to ask and be open.

Peace

May 16, Language of Letting Go

"I woke up this morning and I had a hard time for a while" said one recovering man. " Then I realize it was because I wasn't liking myself very much." Recovering people often say, "I just don't like myself. When will I start liking myself?"
The answer is: start now. We can learn to be gentle, loving and nurturing with ourselves. Of all the recovery behaviors we're striving to attain, loving ourselves may be the most difficult, and the most important. If we are habitually harsh and critical toward ourselves, learning to be gentle with ourselves may take dedicated effort.
But what a valuable venture!
By not liking ourselves, we may be perpetuating the discounting, neglect, or abuse we received in childhood from the important people in our lives. We didn't like what happened then, but find ourselves copying those who mistreated us by treating ourselves poorly.
We can stop the pattern. We can begin giving ourselves the loving respectful treatment we deserve.
Instead of criticizing ourselves, we can tell ourselves we performed well enough.
We can wake up in the morning and tell ourselves we deserve a good day.
We can make a committment to take good care of ourselves throughout the day.
We can recognize that we are deserving of love.
We can do loving things for ourselves.
We can love other people and let them love us.
People who truly love themselves do not become destructively self-centered. They do not abuse others. They do not stop growing and changing. People who love themselves well, learn to love others well too. They continually grow into healthier people, learning that their love was appropriately placed.

Today I will love myself. If I get caught in the old pattern of not liking myself, I will find a way to get out.

My beautiful body

This weekend I went to a workshop in which the speaker, a well-known self-improvement author, walked us through a process of self-discovery. The speaker's general theory, adapted from the theories of Carl Jung, is that anything we can't embrace about ourselves creates difficulties in our lives, and keeps coming up (we keep attracting it) until we "learn the lesson" of acceptance.

So on Saturday we had to face our "shadows" ... those things that we didn't like or didn't want to be called. Of course, my list was a million miles long ... but we had to narrow it down to one sentence that we would never want someone to say about us under any circumstance, and then say it over and over again to a group of three people who were our "mirrors" until we could see that the negativity and "badness" in the words was of our own making. They are just words after all. So ... my focus sentence was "I am a disgusting, fat, ugly loser." These are words that have hurt me in the past tremendously.

Well, after 18 minutes of chanting "I am a disgusting, fat, ugly loser," I still hadn't accepted them as "just words." The other three members of my group made it through their "shadows," so I of course was feeling even more like a "loser."

But the next morning, I got up and went next to the ocean for prayer and meditation. I was still thinking of those words. The first thing I saw was a bird with feet that looked like fern leaves. The divine message that came to me from God was "I give every creature the body it needs to survive." A few minutes later, I saw a seal ... and watched with childish amazement as it went under the water and then came up a few minutes later for air. I thought of its big body and little short fins it was using to propel itself through the water and was again reminded of the fact that it has just the body it needs. A crane flew just barely above the water, looking for food or a landing spot below the water's surface, and a huge bird, maybe a pelican (I'm not familiar with ocean birds) also flew nearby ... its large body and widely expanded wings so close, but never touching the water. I needed the acceptance of my own body ... and I found it in all these animals. Their beauty and the amazement with how they used what they had to go about their day was a beautiful revelation to me.

I too have a body that has protected me over the years in many ways ... it is a body that deserves my love and respect, not my self-hatred. Accepting others judgements of my body is giving away my power and forgetting to appreciate every step of my yet unfinished journey.

Protection and discovery

It just occurred to me as I was writing my story to a group of women in another recovery group that I may have chosen married men to act out with as a way to get back at my mother for not protecting me from my stepfather. More pointedly, I have always denied in my mind that my mother knew what my stepfather was doing to me all those years. But I know that one night in our small house I heard my father trying to get my mother to have sex with him and she was denying him and he told her, “If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to go get it from your daughter, I already did that once today.” I don’t remember if she gave in, I’m sure she did. What a f*cking @sshole my stepfather was.

All the men I acted out with had told me that their marriages had become stale, that their wives no longer satisfied them sexually. I would listen like a loving friend and then give them the sexual excitement they were looking for.

I was continuing to carry out the role of protecting my mother from my stepfather and giving my stepfather what he needed in hopes that he would be happy with me, love me sincerely.

Interesting what comes to the surface when we work through these things. It’s also interesting that I first wrote that I said I was getting back and my mother and it turned into me protecting her from the demon that lived inside my stepfather.

My previous therapist helped me to realize that I always grew up feeling responsible for my whole family. I never thought it went this far.

I remember always thinking about the wives of the men I had sex with – but rarely with much guilt. I just would wonder if they were naïve to their husband’s behavior or are happy that he is getting it elsewhere and leaving them alone. I would sometimes think of what they would say if they found out, and often got answers to that in my recovery meetings where men who had been caught would show up for a few meetings to pacify their wives’ anger.

Remembering

I just read something a friend wrote about passed love. I couldn't help but think of R.

I know that all things happen as they happen. And I'm thankful to be in a calm place today.

I haven't forgotten or understood. But I am living my life ... the one that was presented to me.

Bubbling up from the inside

It seems like so much is coming at me all at once ... all good stuff (for the most part).

This morning my husband said a couple of things to me about the house being in a mess and I reacted with anger. I told him that I wanted him to treat me like an adult, not like a child. Then I also explained that what he had said affected my self esteem, because I felt guilty and shameful for not doing a better job of keeping up with the housework considering that I'm not currently working. Then a bit later he came to me and talked to me as he often does in a cooing voice like someone might speak to a little kid. It was, as it always is ... so irritating to me, even though it is his way of trying to soothe things.

I spent some time thinking ... "Why does this bother me so much?" And I realized ... first of all, I never was a kid. I was always "responsible" for holding my family together, by hiding my sexual abuse (or so my stepfather told me in those private moments when he would incest me), I was also responsible for my younger sister, I was told. Because I began to use food to "stuff" my emotions at a young age, I was always fat, so never really fit in with kids my age. But I could impress the adults around me with my maturity, my brightness and my sense of responsibility. So, I spent more time with adults than with kids my age. Second of all ... I didn't like my childhood and I don't want to feel like a child. I feel that children are not really loved, they are just placated. (My inner child speaking)

So, then I spent some time thinking ... OK how do I get my husband to stop doing this? Then I realized ... It's not him who you (in healthy circumstances) need to change. I need to change myself and my attitudes. I'll have to work on that.

Next, I started thinking about how the cards of my life have come together ... I never told anyone about my sexual abuse until after my mother died when I was 25. I wrote a note in a journal this morning, "My mother died so I could tell my story." That's pretty deep stuff that didn't come from my concious self. What did come from my concious self was that I have always tried to maintain that sense of responsibility for my sister. My stepfather is her biological father, and I never wanted her to think she had such a monster who could begin molesting children at 3 years old for a father. I hadn't had a real father in my life. I wanted life to be different for her.

I have always felt guilty that I was the successful one in our family -- the one who graduated from college first and made a career for herself. But then after a few years, my depression and addiction took care of all that. Suddenly I became unsuccessful ... was it perhaps because I have always felt that my sister hated me for being successful and that's why she rebelled? She has made tons of poor choices in her life, and I've blamed them all on myself because I feel like she did them to "get back" at me.

It's amazing how all these things are rising to the surface, so fast that my fingers can't hardly keep up with it all. But I have to tell you ... I am so thankful it is coming to the surface, so I can begin the process of dealing with it ... and learning how to heal.

Friday

"Here's an eye opening, mind opening question to ask myself: What am I doing with what I've got? Instead of crying over what I don't have, and wishing my life were different, what am I doing with what I've got?" from One Day at a Time in Al-Anon

I spent Wednesday and Thursday crying my eyes out over R. -- feeling all I have lost, all S. has gained, how much better his life is with her, but what am I left. PITY PARTY.

Before an Al-Anon meeting at noon, I treated myself to a pedicure and went to the meeting where the topic was gratitude.

I started realizing ... I need to focus on what I HAVE and what I'm going to do with that, so that I can move forward from here.

I called R. in the afternoon and asked if he would feel OK if we didn't talk for a couple of weeks and just focus on what we each have going on in our current lives. I had already talked to him in the morning and told him I was having a rough time. I just want to focus on my current life, my life with my husband ...

My husband who came and sat next to me today and talked to me like a friend and then bought us tickets to a play next weekend and booked a trip to Denver for us in a couple of months. He was going to go and visit his nephew ... but instead thought it a better idea that we go on a trip by ourselves. I appreciated that.

Of course, still every hour or so ... I have a thought of R. I was folding and putting away clothes ... thinking of the last time I wore each item of clothing, usually it was somewhere with R. It's all euphoric recall ... I know that. I'm not thinking of the times I was sitting on his couch in a t-shirt in tears feeling like a horrible person because I couldn't give him what he wanted in so many ways, never caring that he also couldn't give me some of what I needed.

Update

I felt depressed all day today ... spent a lot of the day crying ... didn't take a shower, go out of the house at all. I did some good recovery work last night, some good journaling, and did get a few things done in the house today ... but overall just felt like shit today.

Tonight I made the mistake of signing on to the e-mail that I used to exchange e-mails with R. on. I noticed that today is the one month anniversary of when he first met S. He danced with her on that first day, and watched chick flicks and even went to church with her. That was the first day they ever met. A 12 hour date.

On Monday he called me to tell me how the weekend had gone ... confirmed that they had made love, that it was good, that she made it special, just like I did for our first time. He told me a bunch of crap they did ... but right now I'm just irritated and don't even want to remember it all. I know it involved him going to church with her again and even meeting her pastor for a "fellowship" yesterday at a local coffee house. Whatever.

On Tuesday he texted me to say he had broken up with her and then told me in the evening that he had left because she said she was having some confusing feelings. I understood why it was hard for him ... just like Deja Vu all over again. Of course, I had no doubt... they'd be back together. He said she'd been calling him all day, and I knew he'd go there and they'd talk and work things out.

And this morning he called and confirmed that was all true.

This afternoon he sent me a text message saying "My love will be with you always." What the f. ever. It doesn't matter.

I am doing my best to feel the pain and not try to run from it. I know walking through the fire is the only way I'm going to get to the other side.

I had met a woman for coffee on Monday that I had spent a lot of time intriguing with ... but I wrote her today and told her that I was sorry -- I realized I had been trying to get into another "relationship" in order to alleviate the pain of the last one. I apologized for leading her on, but I felt proud of recognizing what had happened and being able to handle it honestly.

I applied for my first job here today. I really am not getting that worked up about getting a job ... but this one seemed to fit my interests, so I thought I'd apply and see what happens.

OK, I feel sleepy, so I think I'll let sleep do its trick.