Roots Push Through Pavement

The way a seemingly weak weed works it's way through and cracks concrete, the way the roots of a tree wind their way right through pavement or a road.  My feelings will find a way out.  Like water finds a leak, inevitably burrowing slowly and unstoppably.  I'm like that boy with my finger plugging the whole and the damned dam of pressure behind my emotions gotta go somewhere.

If I'm talking to her, she'll say something for my anger to latch onto.  If she walks away, I resent that.  I want her to stay while I walk the tightrope trying to balance my anger so she doesn't see it.  But maybe she will, but I hope she doesn't, or does.  I don't want her to mention the elephant in the room, nor do I want her to walk away. 

I am a tightly wound ball of anger, resentment, neediness and sensitivity, coiled and ready to deploy, a spring ready to be sprung, a mess of contradictions and conflicting desires that are impossible to resolve!

Sight: the favoured sense of a porn/sex addict

She's upstairs finishing her morning routine.  I am drawn and... can I say it... 'repulsed'?  That's such a strong word.  I feel shame allowing that feeling, uncomfortable writing it.  But I feel a strong guttural pull toward her knowing she's showering, cleaning herself, making herself ready and there's something alluring about that.  It seems like she's 'available'.  There isn't the usual barrier of clothes.  She's in our bedroom, or near it.  I have sexualized so many things (underwear, nakedness, etc.) that I instinctively keep away while she's showering and walking around in various states of undress.  I feel anxious and triggered.  My memory is stronger, the fantasy of immediate and context-free sexual encounters (which I programmed and reinforced over many decades of consuming porn).


But what about that word 'repulsed'?  I don't want to admit it.  I don't want to write it down.  But, she's gained more weight recently than ever in our marriage.  I used to get turned on by looking at her body, but now I often look away when she climbs into bed naked (the way her body sags isn't nice to see).  I feel guilty, but while I am drawn to her while she showers and dresses, I am simultaneously repelled by her flab and dumpy shape.  My addiction is never far away, so I want sex--any time.  I love her and I appreciate her for who she is, her care and companionship and our conversations, and yes, the pleasure and connection of us enjoying sex together.  But I have to touch her and kiss her to get turned on.  Maybe it's because I'm getting older (I'm not a teenager anymore, that was over 30 years ago) so it might be more about my body than hers.

What a strange feeling to be drawn and repulsed at the same time.  And when we are intimate, those times when it's not ideal, I feel a stronger pull than ever.  When sex isn't satisfying, I want more sex.  The sex that isn't fulfilling creates a stronger urge than ever for more more of that same thing.  Like that anology of a thirsty person drinking salt water, only to end up more thirsty.  I want sex but need to step back and see that there's something else that I really need.  The strongest and most powerful physical experience is what I want, but I will only get what I need if I look somewhere else.

I am learning that there are no wrong feelings, that I need to acknowledge and feel this repulsion, so I can let it pass through me (healthy) and move on.  It's no reason to be ashamed or label myself as 'bad' because of feeling something that I don't like.  The feeling isn't me.  It's not my decision, judgement nor a belief nor permanent.  Writing about this is helping already, but I know I need to talk about it honestly and with people who are understanding and who are not judgemental.  Being heard is really important for my recovery and it communicates that I am worth (and I have) value. I'm worth talking about my feelings. I'm worth forgiving myself and practicing being compassionate toward myself.  As I struggle with this, hearing myself say these things out loud and knowing I'm being heard and seeing others model accepting me, helps me to follow, join in, and accept myself too.