Daily Inventory from a new perspective

Step 10: Continue to take personal inventory, and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

It occurred to me, out of the blue, that my selfishness may run through all of my sexual relationship with my ever-loving wife.  How bad is it?  Do all of my thoughts regarding sex amount to obsession?  Do all of my desires live totally on the side of selfishness?  Do  I really think of our love-live outside of what I get from it?  

It's hard to know.  Some think there is no such thing as altruism.  Anytime we do something that seems to be for another, we can't escape from the fact that we are getting something out of the interaction--and thus our own benefit is always there.

What does sex look like that's giving as well as enjoying getting?  I can imagine being giving by NOT initiating sex, by NOT expecting it.  But how do I engage and enjoy our love-life in a less selfish way?  I guess being easy-going about whether it happens or not is one thing.  I guess when we're into it, if I'm focused on her and her pleasure and desires and preferences.  I do that, so maybe I'm not completely as bad as I feared.

But it's an important question I want to ask myself regularly:  'Was I selfish in my love life and attitude toward my love-life with my Bride?  How can I exercise the opposite of my character defect (selfishness) in this context today or tomorrow?  I guess I can ask my Higher Power to help me to not expect sex, take it or leave it, and be 'easy' about whether it happens or not.

Here and Now

Learning about Smart Recovery, I'm liking some of the tools and having a love hate relationship with the psychology.  I am drawn to understanding how we work and very much want to take this knowledge to help others and myself.  But I see the humanistic philosophy that we can be understood with the assurance and completeness of science as childish and naive.  I am embracing mystery and I sense we experience a lot of life and truth through art.  It's so much more than just ideas and facts.  There needs to be a lot of space for nuance.

Anyway, last night was a very tough time again.  I didn't want to 'act out'.  But I was gutted and angry because I'd slept badly the night before and got another no that was very disappointed about.  The SMART stuff says it's not the action that upset me, it's my belief behind it.  So, my tiredness warped my perception causing me to have less long term perspective thus I obsessed about the short term.  I was aghast that I couldn't have sex (again!).  I was unable to see that I'd get sex in a few days.  There was even a hint that in about three days we'd have some time.  But I only saw that as a slap in the face.  It seemed a world away, a lifetime away.  It seemed it might as well have been never.  So I got out of bed and eventually was hungry enough to eat (although I didn't want to give-in to that urge).  I ate more than I wanted.  I felt a compulsion to fill my stomach, hoping it'd make me feel better, maybe help me sleep -- although it never does.  And I guess I got some pleasure from the taste (very short term).  Doing the Cost Benefit Analysis, it's sobering to see how the benefits of acting out (I'm using eating sugar, especially in secret) is all short term and the costs are all long term. 

Control & Saying No

I love the feeling of power and control when she's really turned on and really wants me.  I know I'm going to climax, but what's thrilling is feeling like I am in a position to give her what she wants, which is what I want (orgasm).  Guilt free sex is when she (seemingly) enjoys it just like me.  I want the moment of her desiring me to last. I want the moment of me having this power continue.  It's the fantasy of being desperately desired.  I wish I could experience that every time I'm sad or anxious or bored, but instead it's a small gift that comes unexpectedly--occasionally.

As the months since I've looked at porn or masturbated approach one year, my unreasonable expectations are fading.  My obsession is still waiting to surface, but it's not as strong either.

I can sleep now most nights, and if I don't, it's never due to not getting sex.  I can contemplate not getting sex tonight, and grapple with getting it tomorrow or soon--without too much distress.  I can wake up after not getting sex and not be angry or resentful.  I can interact with her throughout the day without being driven to withdraw in anger or resentment.

Making SAA phone-calls still helps me hugely to see the improvement and my good actions.  I still gloss over my progress and focus on my weaknesses and selfishness if left to my own perception.  I need someone else to remind me I'm doing well.  Plus helping them helps me immensely.

Two nights ago I said, 'let's go to sleep, it's late and we're tired'.  Which is unusual enough, but it was after she'd touched me intimately.  That's not happened for over fifteen years of our marriage, probably more.  The lie that I 'NEED' sex permeates to thinking that if I'm touched there, turned on, then I MUST find completion and resolution and satisfaction.  But that's not true.  She was flabbergasted and amazed that I said that and that I followed through by not being upset or unable to live with my decision.   One thing that made it easier is that I had decided I'd do that hours beforehand.  My motives weren't great.  Silly of me to imagine I'd be punishing her by saying no to sex with her, just because I'd hate that.  She doesn't mind.  But as we touched and hugged my anger eased and I did think of going with the flow, reversing my plans and enjoying the sex that was available.  But I managed to stick with it, stubborn if not angry anymore.  It was so much easier to be the one in control and with the power.  Still not fun to turn down sex and an orgasm.  But I think it showed her I'm not quite the slave to it that I was, even though I haven't yet told her of my silly childish motives that I started with.

Connecting the dots

My friend is amazing.  She is an author and a public speaker.  She gets paid to teach therapists.  But more amazing is that she was severely traumatised as a very young child--yet she helps therapists to help people who's story is like hers.  She was abused.  She was raped.  She was even used in the production of pornography when she was very young.  Horrible, but she is a real inspiration now.

Learning a bit about her story has made me think differently about my own porn addiction.  She has made real the victims and survivors and abused who are the fodder of porn.  I can say I've never had anything to do with porn involving children.  I'm not attracted to violent porn either.  As a matter of fact, before I gave it up for good, I was finding more and more of what's out there follows a theme that disturbs me:  aggressive, demeaning, suggesting violence.  What is this shit about choking?  Who gets turned on by that?  And girls gagging is supposed to be a hot?  Anyway, today I made the connection between the 'innocent' porn that I spent years using and the children who are abused--like my friend was.  And she was three years old!  It's the same industry.  It's all the same world.  The free porn on those websites "everyone" uses is getting more and more horrible.  Plenty of people use that then find they need more aggression, more violence.  They get turned on by 18-year olds in cheerleading outfits, but then some must move on from women to high school girls.  By participating in the "legal" and "bonafide" porn industry, I was still contributing to the bigger world of pornography--the one that abused my very good friend when she was only a three year old!

I'm so sorry, I don't know how I avoided seeing this before. I knew intellectually that stripping and prostitution and porn are all linked. But I guess I felt better justifying myself saying that looking at mainstream porn had no connection to illegal porn.

Exposed Pain and Brokeness

It doesn't matter if I know I'm going to get what I want tomorrow.  If the fact hits me the wrong way that I can't have it tonight, I'm screwed.  We talked about making love, like a mature couple with many years of marriage. We planned it and agreed.  This doesn't match my fantasy preference for unbridled passion that comes from within our gut, or heart, our uncontrollable instinct!  No, it's a planning and diary-ing exercise like budgeting our weekly shopping bill, competing for time like washing and ironing and cleaning chores.  The furthest thing from fantasy or desire driven impulsively being wanted.

Anyway, we were shattered (again) and so we would make love in the morning. She would wake up early and make time. I was to wake her up at 8am.  So I laid beside her hearing her breathe and sleep so deeply.  Does she need the sleep more?  Is that the kinder thing to do is let her sleep?  I feel myself morphing into a martyr--poor me! She doesn't really want me (again, still).  The lie that I'm all alone, unwanted, not desired, in the way, an inconvenience and annoyance.

I morph into someone donning sackcloth and covering my head with ashes, saying, 'woe is me!'.  Look how much life sucks for me.  That's self pity and self absorption-emerging automatically from the idea of letting go of the idea of our planned lovemaking time. Damn my selfishness (addiction) is shrewd and sly and quick and devious.

All these ideas, that bring me down and turn my head inside out.  The program helps me with actions.   I will pray.  Thanks God for keeping me sober yesterday, and  please help me to treat her well today and not use her or be selfish toward her.  Thanks that I don't need sex.  I give it over to God right here, right now.  These typed words are prayers.  Please help me to be selfless, or at least a little less selfish.  Please help me to be willing to talk as I don't wanna withdraw in a huff and sulk from something that I've generated in my own head.   Thanks for a good relationship, for not being alone or lonely.  Thanks for a blessed sex life.  Adult and real, not fantasy.  Thanks for communication and connection and vulnerability--which is really better than orgasms.

 

Ageing

What a fun title: ageing.  Sigh...

But I think working the 12-step program is helping me to let go, not only of my never-ending obsession and expectation for sex.  But it's helping me to find grace and acceptance for my situation, my lot in life.   I think I'm accepting the fact that I am ageing.  And, more related to my obsession, that my wife is ageing. 

Any painful change looks different once I've adjusted to it and accepted it.  My sons growing up and 'leaving the nest' was painful.  It's hard to describe, because I have words for thoughts and ideas but not so much for feelings.  If felt hard.  It hurt.  It wasn't easy or nice.  Then, about a year later, the situation was the same but the feelings were different--better.  Purely because I'd adjusted to the change.  I'd talked to people about it a lot, I'd gotten my mind off it and focused on other things some too.  And time had passed.  Now it's fine that our nest is emptying.  We can even see the good in it, although all those things that made it hard are still there.  It's perspective that matters.  New perspective comes as a by product, not something that can be conjured.  My perspective has changed and makes this loss okay because I spent time considering it.  And I knew that it was right, and I kept that in mind while I felt it wasn't.  My feelings were gently and patiently guided toward what I knew.

So how does all this empty nest adjustment relate to my adjustment about getting old, especially my adjustment to her getting old?  It's the same.  I felt it too much to bear that she was getting wider and saggier.  It hurt every time I was reminded (just like it hurt when I thought about my sons leaving to lead their own lives).  But I talked about the fact that it was natural and right for my wife to age.  I talked about how I prefer her to anyone else I could visualise.  I let myself feel sad and robbed, but I reminded myself what I knew, that I am fortunate and have a wife to be thankful for.  Eventually, the talking (and praying and reflecting) carried me through the change until most of my feelings eased and I wasn't sad or feeling robbed by time anymore.  I was freer to live in the knowledge that I'm fortunate. 

I used to resent getting older and I didn't want to be associated with middle aged folks.  I wanted to run with the cool kids but just didn't belong alongside them anymore.  When on long hikes it frustrated me to see so many wrinkled and grey grandparents there as I didn't want to be in their club. I wanted to be in with the younger ones. 

This was strongly linked to me feeding on the visual stimulus of young and attractive women.  I've done it since I was a kid and I wasn't just addicted to it, I was drawn to it.  Looking at a younger woman made me feel better and made me want a chance to look again for more exciting or comforting feelings.  I was about eighteen when I had a crappy camera and would drive around with a friend aimlessly.  But it wasn't aimless as I was looking out for attractive women and I'd snap their photos like a creepy stalker.  I'd try to smile and flirt to make some sort of connection with them and reassure myself it was all good clean fun.  But it was part of my obsession and fantasy of objectifying and drinking in the pretty faces, long soft hair, and young shapely figures.

More than thirty years later I am trying to break the deeply ingrained habit of objectifying women and visually drinking them in. I have a fantasy of a perfect young woman who is out there somewhere to make me happy and somewhere deep inside me I'm still automatically assessing them all to feel a little better while looking out for my nirvana.

Fountain of Youth & Drying Up

Got my 9 month chip last week.  So I must keep in perspective that things are going better than ever regarding my addiction and sobriety.  But as I adjust to one degree of change and accept and let go of my obsession and expectation for sex... There's more of the same over the horizon.

We're getting older.  Will her interest in sex wane after menopause?  Will her ability to orgasm, or even have sex drop like a boulder from the edge of a cliff?

My obsession since a teen was looking at attractive women.  I was looking at women in their twenties thirty five years ago, and I'm still doing it now.  I fight against it with some help, thanks to the 12-step program.  But as I shopped for a perfect body to 'consume visually' through porn, I have always been clocking and noting thin waists, nice shaped rears, etc. Same when in public as when browsing porn.  As my ever-loving wife and saintly patient bride of 25 years gets older and larger and saggier, I geet angry at the growing difference between her and those twenty-something-year-olds' everywhere.

My ideal is to see beyond her sagging skin.  My aim is to appreciate the woman inside the flab and fat.  The most satisfying lovemaking is face to face, connected and synchronised emotionally and even spiritually.  I promised to have and to hold in sickness and health.  While young and as we grow old together.  I need to kill the fantasy that those young women hold the key to my happiness.  That drinking in their youthful beauty will satisfy my thirst.

Cigarette packs have more explicit and shocking warnings trying to try to scare addicts away from killing themselves.  The fountain of youth is a archetypical fantasy with a warning label saying, 'don't be tricked, you'll loose the life you have pursuing an immature hope for eternity'.  See how enjoying the good (but imperfect) real life in front of us is smarter than throwing that away for an untouchable fantasy--like the allure of mermaids and the way they drive sailors to the rocks, to insanity, to their death. 

These young women, in reality, are just women with their own flaws and humanity.  They poo and menstruate and have their own insecurities and are selfish.  Besides, they are going to be sagging and wider around the stomach in twenty years, like the rest of us all.  Their beauty and youthfulness is just a snapshot in the never ending march of time.

I don't really want a younger wife.  I don't really think sex with someone younger would satisfy or fix my problems.  It's my midlife crisis and my sex obsession trying to get me to do something destructive.  The ego screaming out in pain for a drug that won't satisfy the itch.

I really want to accept my amazingly loving bride, with her trajectory of ageing.  I want to accept my fate that I'm in the last half of life and teen fantasies don't suit me anymore.  Maturity means putting others first and I can do that, while I unsubscribe from this ego driven self absorbed fantasy channel that I've been running in my head since I was a teen.

Streak

How long has it been?  Four days?  Been tired, mostly my decision.  Mostly angry annoyed or resentful.  2 days ago it was her having her haircut So Short!  Really got pissed about all that.  12 steps say I can get rid of that redentment.  Talking to guys about it helps too.

Now she is downstairs at 9am on a Saturday.  When I suggested we go to sleep (without making love) yet again last night I thought we'd have this morning.  Damn.  Now I can go seek her out, stay here.  I wish I didn't feel needy and in a way desperate.  I wanna keep saying no, until she finally initiates it.  I'm pissed that she can live without it so flippantly.  Am I jealous that I can't be easy like that?

Fighting against the automatic

What can I learn from being in this tough place?
First, remembering what I have heard when this happened recently, a dear friend in recovery spoke words like these, 'See this pain as a necessary part of your caring and loving God helping you to heal".  That was beautiful.  I felt so angry, that I was seeing it bitterly and resentfully.  But, of course, I do actually believe that my HP (Higher Power) is loving and caring and very close by.   So a reminder that helped me bring that perspective into this pain was a sweet moment.  I remember where I was when this was said to me.  It was a memorable encounter.  I think the cognitive facts and deep truths behind that conversation transcend words, and something spiritual happened in that moment.  I remember the wave of emotion that washed over me. Sadness, a cry of pain, accompanied by something sweet (bittersweet) and cathartic.

So, what else can I get from being there again?  The simple and practical are the pain points to be aware of.

It was painful when she dropped the bomb, "Let's be flexible and play it by ear, there might not be time for us to make love today".   I went from in control and happily looking forward to intimacy/affection/closeness/talking/quality time/love making/orgasm.... to.... unknown, no control, feeling rejected, feeling devalued and the lowest priority.  I don't know how I felt really.  I imagine I have a strong sense of others' feelings and I often am clueless of what I feel.  I was resentful.  I was appalled.  I was angry (although I didn't feel it, really).

The other flashpoint was the next time we talked face to face.  Could I be nice, would I be passive-aggressive?  I think i had adrenaline pumping through me.  I felt like I was in turbo mode.  But it wasn't taking me anywhere good, faster.  It was so automatic.  I was hyper aware of her mistakes (perfectionism), super sensitive to how she wasn't giving me what I wanted (self absorbed).  'Ah, here I am listening to you (and your imperfections and silly little worries) yet you won't give me what I want (need?)'.

Another touchpoint was when I randomly did something which she thanked me for.  My obsession immediately assumed she'd be grateful and I pictured her responding to my sexual advances--oblivious to the facts that nothing really had changed a bit since she said, 'no'.  The last touchstone was the countdown clock.  She had agreed to be somewhere (for someone else besides me!) and so the silly illogical obsessed me continued to hold on to selfish hope and fantastic imaginations that we'd somehow 'do it' as hours whittled down to less than an hour, and ultimately minutes.  The stupid selfish lie (bogus promise) of those old porn 'quickies' that started as immediately as pressing play on a video clip haven't faded enough yet.  Talking to others where I could express my anger and remind myself by admitting to them what the healthy me really wanted helped, a little, over time.

Hestatant Stepping

There are some things about the 12-step vibe that bother me.  I think I might understand it a little better.  There's a negativity that I sense in the meetings and in the 12-step speak.  Maybe it was self loathing or shame.  I heard of addicts resigning to being managing their addiction for the rest of their lives, admitting that they'd be working the program forever--it sounded fatalistic and pessimistic.  I didn't want that. 

I thought of it differently the other day.  Self Loathing is what people come into the rooms with, and sure I can sense it's there.  Of course there is plenty of sickness in a room of addicts, not perfection (but progress).  The hope and growth turns these negatives into a positive:  humility. 

Yes, you can see your weakness accurately and have a sober assessment of your dependence on your higher power.  But that's not the same as self loathing.  Shame to grace is the slogan for S.A.A. and the people I respect the most have a humility that isn't negative at all.

Menatalist

Tiredness is one of the things we need to be careful if addiction is a challenge.  The acroynm is HALT for hungry angry lonely tired.

Tiredness last night added to my impatience.  Tiredness exaggerated and amplified the lies in my head that are always there but usually not as loud.  Wanting more creativity from sex, frustration at the routine and predictability of it.  Resenting her for the usual human imperfections was back with a bit of a vengeance.

We lie in bed and my thoughts are dominated by one thing:  sex.  I know I want an orgasm and I'm selfish enough, horny enough, tired enough, that it's decided I'm gonna get that if possible.  But I don't want to feel selfish and guilty and I (selfishly) really enjoy it when she enjoys sex.  Her being turned on is a great thrill, as well as a relief from this being only a guilty pleasure.   I think the ideal way to do foreplay is me wooing her but when I'm resentful (resenting being tired, resenting that this sex isn't ideal, resenting my own crap) I hold back a bit, sorta going through the motions. I'm letting her know I want

But I've been drawn to the mystical side of spirituality and am gonna ponder these things with a perspective of grace and acceptance and gentleness--right now.

Obsession of the Mind

Learning about addiction via the 12 steps and AA.  They see addiction as a three part problem.  One, obsession of the mind.  Two allergy of the body.  Three spiritual malady.  See Wiki here.

Makes good sense with Alcoholics who can't stop once they start (physical allergy means once they act out they keep using, powerless to stop (rather than usual understanding of allergy, i.e. breaking out in hives or swelling, etc.).  The obsession of the mind is or insanity of the mind is about kidding yourself into thinking you can dance around the fire of the addiction and not get burned.  Left on my own, without doing the steps or finding health, I'm sure to talk myself into a situation where I find myself acting out.  Finally, the spiritual malady is the most important part because by treating this aspect of my addiction, I can find freedom and overcome all three problems.

Obsession of the mind:  I think my obsession does more than just trick me into acting out.  It robs me of many moments of peace or effectiveness as so so so many minutes and experiences that make up hours and hours of my weeks and years are distracted, disconnected and selfish.  It's the hundreds of times every day when my eye focuses on a female form, a curvy shape.  It could lead me to acting out, but even if it doesn't, the distraction and interruption is selfish, unproductive and disconnecting.

I love how the 12-steps are action oriented and solution focused.  I can't go long without 'okay, what are you gonna DO about it?' which is really what I need to get me out of my head and beyond endless theorising and philosophising.

The action is the pursuing spiritual health.  That's it.  It involves meditating (great to slow down, to quieten myself, to give some time away from social media, work or endless busyness!) it involves praying, but this time it's to my Higher Power (as I understand, as I don't understand).  This is familiar, yes brand new.  God, I trust You and ask you to help me as I'm powerless to improve my spiritual health.  I rely on you to show me what I must today to be more healthy (less selfish).  Help me to act different, to be different, to take steps of love with an attitude of growing thankfulness and humility.

Higher Power: take this away!

So I've been doing S.A.A for 3 months now, and I could write loads about it, but I'm writing because I'm in that place, feeling those feelings.

Last night:  no sex.  Late, tired, family evening so not ideal.  She said let's go to sleep and hinted that we could 'do it' in the morning.   She specifically said she doesn't want to spend all morning in bed (duh, house full of visiting relatives).  So in the morning I was wide-awake hours before she'd stir, so I went downstairs and got some work done.  Prayed my daily prayers and disciplines as agreed with my sponsor (not heavy shepherding at all, it's why I'm doing so much better!).

While downstairs I had the first morning to see my eldest son at breakfast time for months.  I was happy to chat to him and it was easy to offer to help him with some revising.  But I made her a cup of tea as I thought it was about the right time for her to be waking up.

I took her the tea and she woke up (I wish she didn't take so long to wake up in the morning).
I talked to her for an hour or so (I wish she didn't take so long to talk, and would move to affection).
I had offered to help my son with studying, and knew he had to leave in an hour or so, so not long after she moved over and put her arm around me, I decided to say that I am going downstairs to see if Eldest needed help studying.  She was surprised, but didn't mind (I wish she was desperate and gagging for it and would beg me to stay and screw her right away!). 

I didn't feel too bad, not angry (it was my decision) not sad, but a little annoyed.  Downstairs, Eldest didn't want any help studying, but the rest of the household was up and awake by now.  In the back of my mind is the fact that we've missed out on a chance for sex, and tonight will probably not be ideal either (three days in a row?!).

How much was I distracted, maybe 10%, not much.  Then after Eldest left the house for the morning, and she started talking about going upstairs for a shower, my mind started upping the ante and increasing to about 50%, not angry, not obsessed, but distracted and a little tense.  Will she suggest we 'spend some time together' (her code that she uses when we are with others, and even on our own).  She walked over to me where I sat and leaned over and kissed me without particularly making eye contact and without saying anything as she said she's going for her shower.  Was it an invitation for me to say or do something?  Naw, it didn't seem like it.  Seemed like she is relieved or glad or at best un-fussed.  With a house full of family, including visitors, it's not ideal scenario for her to enjoy it.  With a big meal to cook, her mind is elsewhere.  I wish she could make love to me when others are around without being distracted.  I wish she could make love to me without being put off by jobs that are on her mind like a meal she's going to cook.

So, the 12-step program gave me the idea to pray and ask for Him to take this selfish/addictive urge away.  Did that in my head, giving it over to him.  Now I admit m powerlessness and I pray for Him to be what I am needing/wanting from sex right now. 

I thought of calling my sponsor, but felt it better to try to do this with God myself, at least for now.  I remembered my feelings would lessen, or pass, as I'm feeling pretty adrenaline pumped, deciding to stay away from upstairs where she's getting dressed and near our bed.   I wish the only place we made love wasn't our bed, our room, when she's already undressed.

I reviewed my daily thankful list, so let's do that again from memory:  I'm grateful God loves me, accepts me, can and wants to meet my needs.  I'm grateful to be in a family (the one that's visiting).  I'm grateful to not be alone.  I'm grateful she loves me, is willing to have sex with me, even when that's not now. I'm grateful for discipline which means I can learn to floss, and pray, and do the program. I'm grateful for SAAers who I enjoy talking and listening to so much!  I am grateful that she will give me sex before this weekend has finished, or so I am confident.  And I am grateful that God knows what I really need and will not leave me or reject me.  I am grateful that spiritual health is something I can seek, and that control of my life and desires is something I can handover.

Accepting, yielding, giving-in, letting go

Abe lincoln supposedly said, "“Folks are usually about as happy as they make their minds up to be.” 




This is a deep truth that's been trying to worm it's way into my stubborn thick mind for a while.  It seems really silly to hang on to wishing the world was different than it is.

Besides, this is what it means to become a Christian, in my tradition:

Yield, give-way, submit (to His Will), give-in, accept His Lordship, give over control and accept He's the Boss of your life.

I did that, and I've tried to do that regarding my sexual addiction.  But I've needed a 12-step program and support to get any further.  Now I see that's what I need to do again, and in a big way.

God, please give me the wisdom (and strength) to accept the things I cannot change!

My sexual desires have been growing, while the opportunities for sex (within my own definition of good and healthy) are decreasing.  What's gonna happen?  Can I manipulate my life to increase the sex to match my ever-increasing wants?  No.  I need to give up, give-in, change, let go, yield and submit to the will of something/someone outside myself, higher and bigger (and better) than me.  That's where the power to overcome this lives.  Not in me, but in God.   God, please help me.  I give it to you now.  Please help me to keep on giving it to you, and please help me to not take it back.  But when I do, please help me to give it again, learning and accepting happiness along the way.

Lust

Sexaholics Anonymous are a 12-step fellowship, like A.A., but for those willing to work the 12 steps for sexual sobriety.  They believe the problem behind their masturbation is lust.  They work hard to engage with God (however they perceive Him) to avoid lust and rely on Him.

I identify with this.  I can see how avoiding and reducing lust will reduce porn which will stop masturbation.  Other things are hugely helpful too.


Remember what lust is— “I must have it now,” whether it is the lust of the flesh or the lust of the mind.)

Oswald Chambers -
My Utmost for His Highest,

Logical cost counting

The drugs aren't working anymore.

So let's assess the choices:

1) endless sexual partners, though only virtual, not real

handpicked body shape from the youngest taught-est, 

in her prime of sexuality.  

Never upset or tired.  

100% orgasmic and all keen.  

Always on, ready to please, never "No"

2) One loyal and loving flawed female.  

Ageing and expanding waistline 

and sagging imperfect bits.  

Inspires real relationship but nonplussed to share hair-plucking and muenstration updates.  Sometimes allows real intimacy, but not averse to pooing before going to bed together.

Option 1 is endlessly tempting and alluring, but leaves you robbed and worse than empty.

Option 2 looks like a loosing bet, a disappointment with no fun at all.  But you're shopping for a date in a whorehouse.  Your putting your life savings in a one armed bandit.  You're expecting a vampire to feed you, instead of drain you of your life.  The Devil doesn't do anything but take.

the look of freedom

what does freedom look like?
today, right now, it looks like disappointment and pain.
a sad resignation, waving goodbye to the euphoria.

'just like everything those kinda dreams just came and went' (John Mellencamp)

as the crests decrease and the waves are further from my shore.
resignation that it's time to let the fantasies die (although they won't go quietly)
Hanging on and believing for a miracle of always increasing sexual stimulus, to finally satisfy, is silly.
The pain of letting go is smarter and a better road than the pain of carrying on like I had been.

Feelings elude

I didn't know how to do emotion.  Never learned by watching parents, not as a baby, a kid or teen.

If anything I was shown some emotions are bad.  I know I'm uncomfortable with someone being angry at me, and I can see it's not right.

So, how are you feeling?  I haven't a clue.  When angry, I want to express it and let it out.  But I can't.  Maybe I want allowed to as a kid and now I can't allow myself to.  Really don't know how.

Recovery

For the last month or so I've found a new world.  It's not really new, the 12 step fellowships have been around forever and I've know about them.  I have relatives who are deeply involved and I know it helps them.



But something happened, a moment of clarity, and I realised 'the drugs aren't working anymore'.  I enjoy our sexual relationship, then the inevitable challenges of life mean I don't get sex, which collides with me being angry/tired/sad/bored.  I loose myself in some porn and masturbate.  But, it doesn't work it just makes it worse!  The treatment is worse than the illness.  I am more angry and more distant and more desperate (and full of guilt) after maturbating than before.

So, I saw this pattern.  I saw that I need something else.  So I started the Steps.  And although I haven't even found a sponsor yet, there's something new that's happening that I've not experienced ever before.  I had some clarity before, but I have a new hope and fairly consistently helpful moments of perspective that are outside me trapped selfish tunnel-vision.

Check out SAA, (Sex Addicts Anonymous) it's made up of a bunch of folks who are there because the found it helpful.  Very powerful to be able to be helped by those who have experienced the same brokenness.  Talk about finding someone who understands!  The fellowship creates a culture where everyone focuses on the program, which means mutual support and unconditional acceptance, practice with boundaries and individual responsibilities, dependence on God, volunteer help offered (a chance to be helped by others with similar experiences), volunteer help requested (a chance to help others with similar struggles), face to face fellowship with hope for you and the power of storytelling.

Feminine Sexuality

Her sexuality is a mysterious flower, opening in season, responding to patient loving care.

Porn strips her down to an empty fantasy, no pursuit, no wooing or romancing.

You'd like her to be ready at the drop of your pants, but real life doesn't work that way.
You'd like the safety of her always saying 'yes', no risk of being rejected, even avoiding the work.
But if you take away what you don't want, you miss out on the good with the bad.

You aren't in control, you don't get to choose.  You are not God and you didn't make woman.  You may be used to choosing through porn, but getting used to endless options spoils you for reality and what they're selling is bogus.  It promises satisfaction while you enjoy the endorphins, but you are left with guilt and the feeling of a dumb hick who's been swindled by a big city slick snake-oil salesman.

Fantasy, how it looks in reality

I remember a few specific situations that really bothered me. They threatened to open a crack in my fantasy. They were a spark of light trying to burn their way through my outdated unwieldy armor.

 1) affectionate young couple at another table in a restaurant. This made me mad.  I didn't understand why, but it symbolised things that I was loosing and how fantasy operated on autopilot for me.  I was jealous and it reminded me that our honeymoon was over, having children had taken us out of the stage of dreamily staring into each others' eyes. Instead of holding hands and looking at each other, we were now handing each other wet-wipes and looking out for our young children. This image of a young couple being lost in each other reminded me of wanting to escape from my 'real life' and it was angering that porn didn't deliver on it's promises of the fantasy world free of pain.

2) grade school plays, primary school assemblies: seeing the other parents sitting on these little children's chairs, the distracted dads, the mumsy mums. They weren't sexy, they weren't looking at each other. It was all about the children. This bothered me because my selfish childishness wanted to be the centre of attention. I came home from work, and was alone with her, but instead of sex, she put on her perfume to go to the most unglamorous of plades.  We spent the time sitting on those little-kids chairs, I was horny but saw an auditorium full of other frustrated dads and sex disinterested mums.