USA 2022

Doing things that I've done for years reminds me of how my addiction has dominated my life, and a bit of progress lately.

My Bride and I saw our Son's born over 21 years ago and all of our traveling, holidays, family visits have involved separate rooms for our lads. Every time I've made sure we have a door between us as being able to have sex has always been so important to me.  Maybe something I couldn't imagine not having.  Something I thought I needed (even though in a way I knew I didn't).  

Church was a huge part of my life, the reason I brought her to Cambridge and started our life here.  And early on there was a weekend away with several couples and as none of us had kids yet someone suggested the guys sleep all in one bunkhouse room.  I kinda made a joke about it, being a newlywed I wasn't going to sleep with anyone but my Bride!  Everyone laughed, but I was being serious as well.

Anyway, our trip visiting family I chose a room that didn't have a door between us and our son.  It meant no intimacy as we were practically in the same room.  I wasn't aware there wasn't a door, but I didn't make sure when booking the place and it didn't crush or kill me when I saw it.  I'm ashamed to remember the time I insisted my life long lover and long-suffering Bride allow me sex while my Mom was sharing the small hotel room and literally only ten feet away.  I was quiet, and we laughed about it, but I wasn't free or kind or respectful.  Sigh.

Update: 2022.  So much of my emotion in these blogposts is that, "Sigh".  Disappointment, regret, still failing, still struggling, still wanting what's not healthy to crave.  But last year went on another trip with my Bride and our son came along.  We booked an AirBnB and he slept in a room nextdoor which we found didn't have a door.  I remember not being so very bothered by this. That's huge progress!!  My obsession with orgasm means I am always planning sleeping arrangements, and thinking about them a lot.  Just like I used to count the hours until I might get sex, and ruminate on whether it'd happen or not.  I'd count the days and build up the resentment and my mood and attitude toward her, in all conversations and interactions, would be very much coloured by how many days it's been.  Always aware that yesterday was gone and I was only interested in whether tonight would be a yes again.  I could be sad that having sex last night meant I probably wouldn't get sex tonight.  Why couldn't I be grateful that I'd been given sex last night?   Anyway, things are getting better.  I don't find myself keeping track of which night I had my last orgasm, counting, resenting.  It does bother me some times, I do get a bee in my bonnet, but not as often and not as strong.  Progress!