Today

As I start my day today I have so many men crammed into my head that I am worn out just thinking of them. And, yet, to escape, I spent a few hours online last night and probably more today chatting with more men who are trying to escape the humdrumness of their lives. I just finished reading "The World According to Garp," by John Irving. A predominant theme is how powerful lust can be, and the damages it can do in relationships. Lust ... it doesn't even seem to be the word I should use for the force that draws me to other men. Obsession seems to be a better term.

This evening I will meet a man at a motel for sex. I've had sex with him once before. Quite frankly he is less than desirable, but his own lust makes him persistent. I am just ready to be rid of him. So, I'll fuck him one last time and then tell him I can't see him again because my lover is moving closer and I can't risk being caught by either my husband or my lover. That was my plan, and then he was out of touch today ... so, I guess I won't fuck him, but I am going to have to get rid of him.

There is another man who has professed his love to me ... his undying devotion. He has lost his job, is going through divorce, and is about to head into bankruptcy, but the most prevalent thought in his mind is that he has found the woman of his dreams -- me. The only problem is, it's becoming more and more obvious to me that he is not the man of my future. He is not responsible for his own shit, and depends upon me for his happiness. I don't have enough to give for that.

And now my sponsor -- yes, the one who is supposed to support me -- continues to seduce me, to tell me he loves me so deeply that the only way he can show his love for me is to seduce me into phone sex. Then he is silent. I received an e-mail from him at lunch saying that I should not obsess over men who eat human flesh with a nice chianti. Basically, he was saying that he doesn't want to play, that he controls the faucet for when we intrigue and when we are just good friends. Tell me this? How is this different than the way I have been treated by the men who have hurt me most ... my stepfather who incested me and my husband who is sexual only when he wants it? All I want from them, need from them, expect from them is love. And all they need from me is sex.

I know that I just need to get back to my "real" life and leave all this behind. I am just not sure where my real life is.

After a long time and stuff

It's funny that after all this time, there are times when I get anxious and can feel myself, in boredom or in loneliness, wanting to go out in search of someone new. I don't want to do anything but just play with them ... maybe just online, probably so. I just want something to fill the void. But even when I try now, I can't really get the hit.
My sponsor in the sex addiction recovery program successfully seduced me a couple of weeks ago. That is somewhat unbelievable. I haven't sorted out the feelings on that. At some level that is numb, I feel betrayed, and I feel shame and guilt. I don't know if it's best I not feel at the moment. I feel a little overwhelmed with feelings.
I am seeing someone now, seriously considering leaving my husband -- not for the other person, although there is talk of "our future." Rather I am beginning to see that there has been truth all along in my feeling that there is something missing in my life and in my marriage. The age old question arises -- do I accept what is, or do I reach out for something more? That something more feels challenging, sometimes in a good way, at other times in an uncomfortable way.
I don't know, just felt the need to connect here, to this old confessional. Only one person calls me Rae anymore. But I still know who Rae is.

Awake

Once again the addict has awaken me. Rather I should say I woke up from a dream, felt the emptiness in the bed beside me, and the addict took over my thoughts. My husband sometimes goes to work in the middle of the night -- yeah, he's really going to work, he has no time for other mistresses, this one minds his obsessions day and night. And sometimes while he's gone I wake up too. Sometimes I'll sit on the computer and chat with people who make their living at odd hours -- horny men or lonely men, just looking for someone to talk to. After all, I'm just a horny, lonely woman looking for someone to talk to and misery loves company.
But tonight I didn't even need the computer for the addict that lives inside me to get me all worked up. I'm addicted to escape -- usually it presents itself in an overwhelming urge to find someone to, simply put, fuck. It's the finding, not the fucking, that gives me the high. Sometimes the sweet taste of chocolate, bite after bite -- or even other foods -- that take me away. Tonight, I woke up rather obsessed about how in two weeks when I slip away for the weekend with a guy I frankly don't even like, who I know is an alcoholic, I'm going to drink vodka with him with wild abandon. He's going to smoke a million cigarettes, and I might even smoke some with him. And I know he's going to drink. The addict in me who has never shown herself to be an alcoholic, even in the college and after college years when I did drink on a regular basis, but now she craves a new vice. Sex isn't cutting it anymore. She even feels drunk and slurry as she writes. Oh, what sweet escape. How long will she scream?


By the way, for those of you who check in on me now and then ... I'm still alive. My recovery from addiction goes up and down and as you can read today -- it's on a down plane. But I've started to see a new therapist and am hopeful. I don't come here to write anymore. I'm not sure why. I've thought about it a few times -- both in times of acting out and in times of recovery. Could be because I never use "Rae" anymore. I've become "Staci" to all those horny, lonely men. But I'm still the addict who needs confession, especially on nights when she wakes up feeling drunk and aching for a drink, even though she hasn't had a drop. Cheers!

Where I am Today

So, I'm back to my old tricks ... it's no surprise. Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time, knows that I have these ups and downs ... periods of so-called "sobriety" where I live like a normal human being, followed by self sabotage. It's the story of my life actually. I've battled the same struggle with weight loss.

I sat down to write about my escapades, but somehow I'm even now ashamed to write about the myriad of men I have entertained and the hours I have spent pursuing them. I still say "I want my life back, I just want to be normal." But I have not done what it takes to make that happen.

It's all simple actually, tell the truth ... be honest, live an honest life, never do anything behind someone's back that you wouldn't do in front of their face. How hard could that possibly be? I ask myself that question ... and find nothing but fear. So, what am I afraid of? Afraid of losing control ... ha ha ... isn't that funny? My life is spinning out of control and I'm afraid to lose control. How bogus.

I haven't given up hope ... in fact these days I'm feeling a bit better. I'm not sure I have more resolve to stop my behavior right now ... but at least a little more a part of the human race. I just have faith that whatever will be will be ... and I've just got to get through this part. Yesterday I told my husband I was on the verge of checking myself into a mental institution. I still am not sure that's not the best answer. But on the other hand, it's probably just me looking for another escape. God knows when I'm going to stop running and start standing on two feet exactly where I am. But I still have faith it will happen. It won't be a miracle ... I'll have to do the work, and there may be disasters bigger than I can imagine before I get there ... but this is where life is. This is where I am today.

Back to Reality

Well, I'm back home for about four days and I have already acted out. I spent Monday on the computer all day and yesterday I met one of the guys I had been talking too and gave him a quickie BJ in my car. So much for serenity.

I had a breakdown with my friend M. last night. He started talking to me about "the program" and the steps, and I just said, "I don't give a fuck about Step 1 or Step 12 or any other step. What I see is that after a year, I'm right back where I started. I want my life back. I'm tired of being obsessed with sex."

He rightfully told me that I have to take my life back. But, damnit, I'm tired of trying, only to find myself right back where I started.

I was away from my husband for two months, and I guess that I thought I would come back and he would have miraculously changed -- but no, he's still the same callous person he was when I left. While I was away he called me every day. While I am here he just talks to me in the same rude way he always has -- barking and forgetting that I need affection and love now and then too.

This morning I went to sit down with him while he got ready. It was clear he didn't want me there, since when I told him something he started his usual barking.

There are plenty of people who think I should just leave him. But the truth is that somewhere beneath our issues I love him. I don't know what the right thing to do is anymore.

I feel that my addiction is totally separated from all these frustrated feelings for him. In other words I don't consciously think ... "Oh he was a jerk today, I'm going to go find someone else to fuck." Rather I just detach myself from reality and escape into a world of sexual fantasy. Common sense tells me there is a connection. I think it's probably one I don't want to make.

Where I am today

It's only a day and a half before I leave for India. I have a major story to write, packing to do and the house to clean and organize. I have put off a lot of it. Yesterday I did very little. Last night I went online and chatted with a couple of 28 year old guys. They were horny and I just humored them with talk. It's hard to say if it's a slip or a slide -- but it wasn't healthy. Still I'm not feeling guilty. It happened, it's over. This morning for the 40th time, I uninstalled messenger from my computer and will just refrain all together from chat. I only use it to fill time. I need to find new ways to fill time. If I don't, my addict will find them for me.

So ... here I am typing on my blog ... needing to be working. That's where I am right now. But today, I still feel the peace from going to visit my stepfather on Monday. I know that I'm going to be alright. I may not be perfect and life will likely throw me some major curveballs ... but I am going to be OK.

When faced with a decision

I woke up this morning faced with decision of whether to visit my stepfather or not. My choice was to visit him or go to India for two months and worry that he might die while I was gone and leave me feeling that I’d made the wrong choice by choosing to continue my silence.
The program teaches me to face each day the decisions that lie before me. This one was a little bigger one than whether to clean the house or goof off all day. I looked the decision in the face and wrote down a number of truths about the situation, then I prayed for clarity. I went to an Al-Anon meeting and the reading there was about the Three A’s – Awareness, Acceptance and Action. I spoke frankly with the group about my dilemma and several of them lauded me for my courage to face the issue of my abuse at all. But one gentleman, Charley, spoke directly to me. “I’m very familiar with the situation you are in. I did make the visit and he did die two days after I left. I’ll never regret that I did it.” I shared that I didn’t know what I was going to say, but that I had turned the whole issue over to my HP and felt compelled to make the trip, and had faith that whatever needed to be said and felt would be there. Charley said he also didn’t know what he wanted to say either … and in fact he didn’t have to say a word, his father brought it up. “I just gave him the dignity of listening.” That’s exactly what I needed to hear. By the time I left the Al-Anon meeting I had the clarity I needed and I expressed thanks to God for that. I came home and got ready and left.

So many people, including Charley, have said, “You don’t owe that bastard a thing.” And every one of them is right. But in my heart, the person I am, being bitter and resentful and spiteful feels contrary to my purpose. I have only recently realized that I can follow my own heart without condoning someone else's bad decisions. I will never accept what my father did to me as a child and then later as a young adult as right. It was horribly wrong. But for me to use it to hurt myself over and over again is no longer his wrong -- but my own. I realized that I needed to visit my dad, not for him, but for me. I needed to show love where there had been none and give him the dignity of saying whatever he had to say Above all I needed to tell him that despite it all … I love him. And that’s the truth. I needed to be honest with him and give him the opportunity to be honest with me, and then I needed to be done.

I felt at peace as I drove the hour and a half, and when I reached there, there was a bit of tension in the air, but within 10 minutes my HP presented the opportunity for me to talk to my dad alone. He was showing me an addition he had built onto the house and before we left that area, I asked him to sit down so we could talk. I asked him how he was doing and he expressed his true concerns for his health. He said he was dreading the prostate surgery and that his lungs were not working very well, but it was only through continuing to work on projects around the house that he could keep going. I didn’t feel pity for him or sadness. I just listened, as one caring adult to another. And then I said, “Daddy, I just came here today to tell you that I love you.” He said, “I know that. I never questioned it. I love you too.” I paused so that if he wanted to say anything else he could, and he didn’t. But, I wasn’t disappointed. I had said what I went to say, and I went without expectation of him, what he said was inconsequential. I didn’t need anything from him anymore. I had released, in my decision to go there and express my love, all the need that I have had of him for so long – all my need for approval, all my need for love, all my need for him to be a father, all my need to forgive him. Now I see him as a man, who has been sick with the very real and difficult disease of sexual addiction and obsession for a long time. I owe him nothing. He owes me nothing. I am me. He is him.

I am finished using what happened to me as a child as an excuse for what is happening to me as an adult. I am finished blaming the past on the decisions I make today. I knowingly went to see my father today, and from this day forward what I do, I will do with keen awareness. I will make mistakes and I am still an addict who has to be ever vigilant and committed to my program. But the decisions I make will be mine; there will be no buffer, no excuse. If I decide to screw up, it will be because I decided to screw up, not because I am the victim of childhood abuse. My addict will play its role in my life, but I have the tools, and the HP to keep that in check. If I choose not to use those things, that is my choice, not a result of being a victim.

I don’t intend to have a relationship with my father or really my sister (who I also saw today). I won’t ignore them if they call, but I won’t run from them or toward them either. If they disturb me, I will set boundaries. If I want to see them, or my niece and nephews, I will do that without hesitation. But I will feel no obligation toward them again. I released that today.

I have also decided that I will no longer lie about my abuse. I will not make a bold announcement, or an announcement period. I will protect my own privacy. But if someone asks me if I was abused, I will straightforwardly say yes. My past has helped to shape my present, but I will no longer let it dictate my future. I will not be ashamed, and if I am, I will demand honesty of myself.

I cannot express in words the peace I feel today. Serenity – which I have ask for – has come to me.

My life is a HUGE success

I'm happy to report that I'm in a much better place today than I've been in a while. I've recommitted myself to my bottom lines of 1. No sex outside marriage; 2. No online chat and 3. No planning for future liasons. I have also established eight daily top lines and committed myself to those. I seem to be focused on those now and that is good. Struggling with the bottom lines makes it all the more hard for me to truly benefit and succeed at working my program.

My sponsor asked me to say "thank you" 300 times a day, so this morning I went out and got started. I said "thank you for ..." and got up to 112. I said thank you for everything and everyone that I could think of at the moment. I may have to say the same things 288 more times, and some things I wasn't exactly sure what I was thankful for (particularly people), but I said "Thank you" anyway. Because if I can find something good in every Harry, Dick, Tom that I decide to act out with ... I can surely find something to be thankful for in the people who are around me.

I started thinking about a "recipe for success" that one of the doctors gave during the seminar I attended last week. I like it. It went like this:
1. Write down everything you DON'T want for your life.
2. Write down everything you DO want for your life. (Write in great detail)
3. Bring your mind and body into a place where you can feel what it would feel like, and imagine what it would look like to have those things.
4. Take action to achieve those things you DO want, staying focused on your goals for success.

I also remembered that I never sent you guys the affirmations/quotes that I said I would send.

The best affirmation is kind of long and you have to say it strongly to get the full effect. It goes like this:
Today is a great day and I have the opportunity to show up as the best me ever!
My life is a HUGE success!
My beliefs create my reality. I think big thoughts and relish small pleasures, and handle all setbacks gracefully.
I am deeply grateful for all I create and receive.
My life is now in total balance and ...
I am the best!
It may be difficult to believe, but it does feel good to say it. And we're supposed to fake it til we make it ... right?

So here are some other things for you guys about thoughts. As I look at them, they are not really affirmations, but simply truths (at least to those who believe them).

Negative thoughts with negative feelings isolate me from my creative energy.
I am a product of my beliefs.
I am a chained slave to anyone I hate. Hating ruins my life.
It is not what is said that hurts me, but how I respond to it.
Nothing is good or bad unless I think it so.
The most important thing to change is my belief.
No one else is responsible for the way I feel.
Whatever I have done, I will learn from it.

All of these things point to one thing for me -- When I have negative thoughts, energy, emotions, I create a bad place for me in life. If I can replace those negative thoughts with positive ones I improve my outlook on life and my ability to learn and grow. For example, if I just take the first quote and say "Positive thoughts and positive feelings connect me to the universe," I feel so much better about myself. When I replace hate with love, I remove turmoil.

One thing that my sponsor has been trying to get through my thick skull is that this is a simple program and the answer to all issues are in the steps. Honesty is the fundamental tool for recovery, because telling the truth sheds light on the dishonesty of our disease. That is pretty simple ... but not easy. Anyway, something I've realized in trying to grasp this fundamental truth is that "Who wants to be that simple? There's no drama in that." We've all talked about this before ... drama is so much a part of our lives. The "thrill seeking" of our disease often put us in danger and harmed us in many ways. But I see that I continue to get "wrapped up" in the drama of my life, even if it's sometimes just in my own head, because it's the only way I have practiced thinking. The idea of "total balance" seems "out of whack." It's good to know there's always a way I can continue to grow.

Today

Today I have plans to act out ... to meet a married man for sex in a hotel. He seems very loving and sensual. Likely we'll enjoy each other. I don't feel the usual struggle. I know I'm wasting my time and this is time that I could be using to move forward. But I'm not. I'm where I am and I just want to have sex with strangers and numb the pain of being close to my stepfather who sexually abused me for 10 formative years of my life, the pain of moving back to a place I consider home and still feeling isolated because that's where my addiction takes me, the pain of ... who knows what. It's easier just to take a big ol toke from this weed I smoke -- sex.

A day in the disease

WARNING: This post contains numerous ugly truths that may be potential triggers for sex addicts, PTSD suffers and recovering alcoholics. It also contains some ugly reminders for all who suffer from the disease of addiction. I am not proud of any of this.
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This morning I woke up at 5 a.m. I got up and gathered my recovery books, and 12 Step Prayer book and went outside to pray and meditate.
By 6 a.m., I was in the midst of a call to a recovery friend, talking about a very harrowing recollection I’d had the night before of one of the instances of sexual abuse from my childhood.
By 6:45 a.m. I was taking a refreshing walk around the neighborhood, feeling blessed to be energized.
By 7:30 a.m. I was on the computer, engaged in intrigue, much like what I’ve been engaging in for days.
By 9 a.m., I’d only stopped my acting out long enough to feed my husband breakfast (he had gone to work at 5 a.m. and returned to take a shower) and drink a banana smoothie for myself.
By 9:30 a.m. I was engaging over the phone with someone who I had discussed meeting in person. When that was done, I was right back to the computer and ignoring reminders from my HP to end my intrigue with a 23 year old boy who had approached me. I told the boy my conscience wouldn’t allow it … he pleaded and ..
By noon, the 23 year old boy with a bright future ahead of him was standing naked in my house.
By 1:30, I had spoken with another potential victim of my addict, who turned out to be a man who lived directly across from my bus stop when I was growing up. His children are older than me. Even after learning all that (except for my identity) he still was insistent that he wanted to have sex. At least I had the good sense to turn that down.
By 3 p.m., I was making up lies for how I could be out of town tomorrow night to meet a man an hour away.
By 5:30 p.m. I had asked another man to meet me for a beer at a bar 45 minutes away. We barely intrigued as we drank pitchers of beer together, and enjoyed a relatively good conversation. After he asked me to order the third pitcher of beer, he began to tell me the story of how two years ago he was involved in a five hour standoff and shooting with local police and was released on probation and a requirement to attend four AA meetings per week. “Let me put it this way,” he said. “I had 8 days until tonight.” I told him I was in another 12-step program and had been sober for three months until Sunday. Then I told him, “I gave you your drink … now I should make you give me mine.” We both passed on that one … as I had to come home to my husband, who was sleeping on the couch. He never asked anything and now at 10:30 p.m., he is now in the bed sleeping soundly, unaware of the truth.

Just like alcoholism, this disease is progressive. There are those who can get their fix off a single encounter. For me, it never ends with just one. The bingeing cycle is no different. I pray that today has been enough, and that tomorrow will bring me silence and sobriety. I pray for forgiveness and offer thanks for another day to grow one day at a time. I realize this post focuses on the problem, not the solution ... but that day is coming.

Hysteria is scaria

Sometimes the disease gets me, and sometimes it’s the depression. Today my anxiety roared out of control. Although I didn’t have a full blown anxiety attack, I went through an episode that would have caused a sane person to shiver. I was unloading boxes with my husband and he was trying to steer me to do the things he wanted done, rather than work on what I was trying to get done. I gradually began to feel anxious and got irritable. As the anxiety spread, I had to hold back the urge to scream loudly through clinched teeth. Finally he went to the other room, but it was already too late, I was in full blown mode. I couldn’t gain my composure and began to cry, feeling afraid of myself and my ability to keep things together. I tried to shake it off by continuing to work on the unpacking project, but it didn’t work. By this time I was feeling like I had cheated my husband … that he did not deserve to have been brought into a marriage with someone who was losing their mind. I decided to lie down and walked by the office door to tell him that I was going to rest for awhile. On one hand I didn’t want him to see me crying, on the other hand, I really needed him to comfort me. He barely glanced at me, as he said, “OK” to my statement I was going to lie down. I knew I needed something from him. I went back to the door and said “Can I talk to you?”

He came into the bedroom and I tried to tell him what was going on inside my head, but it was too confusing for even me. I just told him that I never thought I’d turn out this way, that I didn’t want to hurt him with my sickness, that I didn’t know what to do and that I was worried I was never going to get better. If all of this sounds hysterical (and not in a funny way), it was. But not nearly as hysterical as it got. At one point, he said “It’s going to be OK, just climb into bed and take a nap,” and I went absolutely berserk. I began screaming and crying at the same time saying that going to bed was not going to solve the problem, that nobody understood that there was something wrong with me, that I was scared I was never going to get better. This is the second time this year that he has had to witness one of these attacks and I feel so badly for him. I do sincerely feel sorry for him that he got wrapped up with someone with the emotional problems I face. I know it cannot be easy.

Of course, I am focusing my attention on him, because I have no idea how to even begin to sort out what was going on with me. If it’s not simply being crazy, I’m not sure what it is. It’s humiliating, demoralizing, and downright scary when you simply lose control of everything – when you want to throw all your dishes through the front window and when you start crying and screaming like a child until you lose your breath.

I had a message on my answering machine yesterday from my dad asking that I call him. He doesn’t really want anything except for me to act as if there’s nothing wrong. I haven’t called him yet. I can’t let go of the thought that the call is going unreturned, but I can’t even begin to make myself call either. I feel numb, paralyzed – not mad, but unable to lie anymore. Some days I feel as if life is falling apart. For a few hours today, that’s what I thought again. I’m feeling better now. I hope it lasts for awhile.

Thanks for listening.

A gleam of light

Someone on my Overeaters Anonymous list posted this. It was good to be reminded that in recovery things simply grow.

Subject: The Path of Recovery

Recovery does not happen overnight. It is somethingthat happens over time by being abstinent and workingthe steps. In AA rooms you hear the aphorism - 1 stepa year. Not that you should only work one step veryyear but that the complete internalization of eachstep takes a year. And I have experienced this. Of course there wasphysical recovery and a return to sanity before 12years (thank goddess) but the true deep recoveryreally did take about that long. I was so deep indenial about the food it is no wonder it took a yearfor me to REALLY admit I was powerless over it andthat I REALLY was a compulsive overeater. This was nota diet it was a way of life.The physical recovery in terms of weight loss took 8months but the recovery from anxiety and panic tooklonger. But it did come. This took faith, diligence,desperation, stubborness, support of the group,support of a sponsor and working the steps twice. Ican honestly say that doing a 5th step saved my lifefrom a psychological and spiritual perspective. I wasno longer alone with my dirty little secrets. What arelief! Then I thought I was moving right along with mentalrecovery. But I would have many backslides in thisarea due to clinical depression and a failedrelationship. But that did happen. And it was steps6-9 that helped support this process. As I could seewhat I had done to create the problems and issues inmy life I could stop blaming other, stop being avictim and start really living as an adult. I canhonestly say this took many many years. But it didhappen.The spiritual recovery came about as I cleared up myphysical illness, cleared up my mental and emotionaland realtionship problems. And all along I prayed andasked God for help and this strengthened my faith.Workind steps 10 - 12 deepened my spirituality. Icould see I was not alone and I could see my own innerdivinity.I am a pilgrim on a lifelong journey. Each year I workthe steps in a deeper way. Each year I have a deeperappreciation for the steps, the slogans, and thefellowship. AA and all that it gave birth to is amodern day miracle. And I am a miracle too. I shouldbe in a grave dead from my eating or from my suicidaldepression. But today I am happy, I am self expressed,I am living out God's plan for me.

Meanwhile back on the farm

One thing I have gotten really good at after moving back to my home state is doing my daily meditation and prayer in the morning. I go outside on the porch with two books -- one is a 12-step Prayer Book, given to me by one of the members of my PA f2f group, the other is "The Language of Letting Go" by Melody Beatie. I spend some quiet time with my HP and then read a prayer and think through it, then read a meditation and think through it. This time in the morning is very centering for me.

Anyway, this morning's meditation from the Language of Letting Go was about being a victim. And while I can't remember exactly what the meditation said ... what it brought up for me was that for a long time after entering recovery I added my addiction to a long list of things I had been victimized by. I was powerless over my addiction, so I must be its victim. What I realized this morning is ... I'm not a victim of my addict. My addict has served me well in times when I didn't have the capacity to deal with emotions and feelings that were overwhelming. It helped me to escape when I was so unhealthy that I didn't know I was escaping. But today it is my addiction that is forcing much needed change in my life, making me stronger, making me more aware of my life and how to deal with it. The only time I become a victim to my addict is when I use it for unhealthy purposes, when I continue to use it to escape my real life, even though I am gaining the skills needed to face whatever life has to hand me. When I say that I am limited in my ability to interact with others because I am an addict, I am MAKING myself a victim of my addict. Instead I need to say, "Because I have lived in active addiction, isolation and unhealthy relationships are the only way I know how to live. In recovery, I have the opportunity to learn new ways to interact with others. I have the chance to learn what it feels like to be healthy." If I choose to continue to isolate myself and blame it on the addiction, then I am submitting to being victimized by my addict.

It took me a long time just to quit living like an active addict day to day. Through the grace of my HP and the support of this program, I stopped that behavior. But stopping the behavior is really only the first step. Changing the way I live is what recovery is about for me. Changing the way I live, erases my role as a victim. I have no intention of living any of my life as a victim.

Consequences of a lifetime of not being present

Yesterday afternoon I came in from doing a million errands to find my husband working on reconciling the checkbook after several months. As soon as I walked in, I could tell he was mad about something. He doesn't have to say a word, I can sense it. He had discovered that there were some withdrawals I made but never wrote down, as well as some checks from another checkbook that I keep in my purse that I never recorded. Understandably he was upset. It wasn't that we were overdrawn, but as he said, "This is no way to keep a checkbook."

Before entering a 12-step recovery program, which seems to be helping me immensely, I would have yelled back, made excuses, maybe even lied in some way to cover my ass. Instead I admitted -- yeah, I really suck at this and ask him if we could come up with a more stable plan for oversight of the checkbook. I admitted that I have never been very responsible when it comes to money and keeping track of it. He wanted to continue to yell about it, but I simply said what can we do to make it better in the future, let's come up with a plan. I felt better admitting my weakness rather than telling a big fat lie. I've lied about this weakness for years and it resulted in a horrible credit history and more check overdrafts than I care to recall. I don't want to live irresponsibly in any way any more.

And even though I think I handled this confrontation very well -- much better than I've ever handled something like that before, in the end I began to cry and it seemed I could not stop crying. I have been so irresponsible with my life, made so many poor choices, just because I was always running, always somewhere else other than the present, scared of fear and almost anything negative, scared even of myself. I have just not shown up in my own life. I didn't want to be there. I always wanted to be in someone else's life. All this came rushing at me yesterday as I faced this one area of my life where the consequences and truth stared at me directly. Did it hurt to look at this? Hell f'ing yeah it did. All I could think was, "How could I have made so many bad choices in my life?" That sentence just kept going over and over and over in my concious mind, but underneath years of the truth was flashing through -- spending, eating, sex, lies, ... on and on. But it was like it brought me right in front of myself and said, "Now stand there. Look at this. Is this what you CHOOSE to be for the rest of your life? OK then, you don't have to be. Get your ass in gear."

A good question

I am spending some time asking myself this question. Why do I want to recover from sex and love addiction? Sometimes I feel like I don't. Some days I hate my sobriety. Some days I think it is worthless. My previous sponsor once told me that sexual abuse victims have it the hardest, that most of them can never truly recover from addiction because of their trauma. That was very defeating to me. I have used it to fight against helping myself. And on those days I think recovery is worthless, it is because I think I am never going to be able to succeed, so why try.

Why try? Because I spend half my days in tears and agitation now. I am sad, lonely, empty. I want my life back. I want to not just pretend to be full of life. I want to be in touch with my life and know that it's in there. I want to feel. As long as I'm an addict I have trouble feeling anything.

Sometimes one of my friends tells me I think too much, but it's simply out of desperation -- wishing that I could just feel something. Maybe I'm even addicted to the pain and loneliness, because at least it is something.

I wasn't always like this and it's hard to accept that my entire life has been a lie, and certainly hard to think that the rest of my life will be like this. But I am thankful to be realizing that at 36. And I will keep plugging along, asking questions, and being thankful. There's a big wall to knock down between me and myself. The only tool I have is God, his patience and understanding, and his gifts -- which include the program and the people I have met through it.

In case you didn't notice ... the wall went up somewhere between the two paragraphs above. The feelings come and even though I say I want to feel, I shut them off. I can't stand not being in control of them -- and until I accept them, let them come, feel them -- I'll always be here.

A prayer for my brother

Our Heavenly Father,

When the plane lifts off today at 7:10 p.m. bound for Israel it will be carrying some precious cargo. There's a gift to the world on there. He is my brother. The brother you gave me.

Surely those around him will notice that he is strong, but what they can't see is the strength that is buried beneath the brawn. They may see the intensity of his eyes, but they cannot see the sharpness and creativity of his mind. They may see the lifting spirit of his smile, or even feel his presence, but they cannot see all that he carries inside.

Thanks to your precious love, I have seen inside him, and I know, as you know, that inside him is the world -- all its pain, all its glory, all its curiosity, all its fear, all its life, all its death, all its love, all its hate, all its strength, all its weakness, all its happiness, all its anger, all its hope. It all exists inside of him. You have given him a great responsibility, because you knew he is at heart a survivor, a strategist, a person who can carry the load, for those among us who cannot.

The people he encounters on his trip -- the pilot, the passengers and crew, those he meets in Israel, will have no idea of these things. But you will, and I know you will protect and bless him, care for his needs, and remind him at all the right times that he has everything he needs -- and more than anything help him to remember that he has love, the love of many, many people who walk with him. I am one of them, and for that I am truly thankful.

Amen

Answers to three questions

What are five things that you dislike about the way you interact with others?
a. I am controlling and manipulative -- I want everything to be my way. If it is not, then I think it is wrong. I become angry when I am not in charge and when I want something to be a certain way, I think of the actions I can take to make them go that way.. I even want to control how people think -- For example, I want people to like me and I will do anything I have to make them like me. Like you, I do not like confrontation. I don't like to leave them to their own thoughts.
b. I am judgemental
c. I am dishonest -- In my life I have lied -- a lot. I have lied to my husband, to my friends, family -- all in order to live this secret life.
d. I am weak -- Even though I always want to be in charge, when I am in charge, I often don't know what to do, which leads to more lies, and an inability to say ... "I'm not sure" unless it is a good manipulation tactic.
e. I sometimes feel inferior and ashamed, which makes it hard to talk to people on an "equal" basis.
Here's an example of manipulation -- I want to say ... Don't worry, I know this sounds harsh, but I have as many things that I like about myself, because I don't want you to think certain things about me. Hell fire, it should be OK for you to think whatever you want. It's not going to kill me. Being dishonest for the rest of my life is.

What are your five biggest pet peeves?
a. People who are rude and unsympathetic, especially those working in customer service.
b. People who are selfish
c. People who think it's cool to blast their bass radios in the car beside me.
d. Repetitive questions when I am trying to think.
e. Women who act stupid in order to get attention.
(Did I mention I am judgemental :) )

What are five things that make you smile?
a. Watching kids laugh and play
b. A good song on the radio that I didn't expect to hear
c. Hearing from an old friend
d. Knowing that someone I love has had a triumph
e. Right now, knowing that I have a lot to look forward to in my new home

"We each are spinning our individual threads, lending texture,
color, and pattern, to the "big design" that is serving us all. Person by person
our actions, our thoughts, our values complement those of our sisters (and
brothers), those of the entire human race. We are heading toward the same
destination, all of us, and our paths run parallel on occasion, intersect
periodically, and veer off in singleness of purpose when inspiration calls
us."

This came from one of the Hazelden meditations and I thought it was appropriate for what I wanted to share today.

Something else I heard today that made me think of you all was an anonymous quote ... "Our friends are God's apology for our family." Wow! I accept and am forever grateful for the friendship that I have found in recovery. It is a blessing beyond words.

I sat down to write that the final decision about our move back to our home state has been made. As I suspected, we are going. The resignation letters were written and our landlord received notice that we will be vacating our apartment here in July. My husband is accepting a position as vice president of his former company. It is a tremendous opportunity for him, and also a good chance for me to do some starting over.

I have thought a lot about a song someone mentioned recently ... "You've got to walk that lonesome valley, you've got to walk it by yourself, ain't nobody here can walk it for you, you've got to walk it by yourself." It is so true. Sometimes I feel so alone in this journey. Even in making such a major decision, I have felt myself disconnected from my husband -- one because I subconciuously chose to for self-protection and two because he chose to make his decision in the solitude of his mind.

In the whole process of considering this move, the one thing that has caused me the greatest concern is my fear of separating from the support system that I feel right now is still holding me up. When I think of leaving my face to face group, leaving the Northeast where at least four people in this group can get together now and then, I actually visualize a tree coming up from the roots it has planted so deeply. I have felt like I am abandoning people I have grown to love, and that in doing so I am abandoning myself. It is like when I was in a horrible car accident 13 years ago and my leg was crushed, leaving me with only a rod and a bunch of screws and pins to keep my leg and ankle together. I went from a plaster cast, to a hard plastic cast, to an air cast, to nothing. But the day the doctor told me I had to start walking without crutches, I was literally scared to death. I was afraid I could not walk on my own. I feel that way now.

But the fact is ... I am not doing this on my own. I am choosing to isolate myself and feel alone, because it's the only place I've ever known to turn -- inside. Yet, if I open my eyes and see the gift of friendship that God has given me -- I see that I am not the only one suffering from these emotional turbulations. I am not so special, there are others here, facing their own individual feelings about moving, but holding hands in friendship, and walking together. I am so thankful for the blessings of my Higher Power, and the bigger picture that he allowed me to see today.

Happy Tuesday

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

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

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

A letter to an old friend

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