I wanted this blog to be anonymous so I could be as personal as I wanted to be; so I could be as truthful and as real as I wanted to be. I don't necessarily mean graphic, but I mean vulnerable. Able to feel like I can blog without mincing words. Because I'm never good at it otherwise. I either speak my truth, or I don't speak at all.
I go to meetings where I identify as an alcoholic. I have been doing this for 14 years. I have no qualms about this; every relationship with alcohol (and drugs) I've had has been marked by the actions and attitudes of the alcoholic. I have diagnosed myself as an alcoholic, and completely identify as one. There is nothing that I find objectionable about that.
However, I know without a shadow of a doubt, that my first addiction -- the one that has me hopelessly gripped and one that I still have not found relief from -- is that of love and sex addiction. It's a strange topic to broach, because I think that when it's brought up in mainstream discussions, most people focus on the prurient part -- sex addicts. (Usually) men who bemoan how they can't help but be promiscuous, who cheat on their wives, who are involved with sex workers, who can't stop looking at porn. Who we usually hear about because they get caught in a public way, and then are (often forced??) led to confess their addiction/s and get help.
But it's not always like that. Sometimes, love and sex addiction is focused more on the love/relationships part. Sometimes, when you know this thing has you, it comes out sideways in something they call "sexual anorexia," and you just stop having romantic relationships and sex in a way to avoid the pain and pitfalls that inevitably come with addiction. It's practicing abstinence, but for all the wrong reasons. It's a strange way to live -- just as disordered as fucking everything that moves.
I'm trying to give you some background here -- I think I'll be talking about this quite a lot, since I haven't even come close to recovering from this. I haven't really even tried working a 12-step program around it yet. I've only recently come to a place where I've conceded to my innermost self that I truly am in the grips of this and that I am powerless -- that this might be the thing that actually kills me, not alcohol.
I have a lot of different stories, thoughts, places to go from here. But I'll let this serve as an introduction and we can return to the subject. I'm sure this won't be the last time I'm here.
This will be a book one day -- don't you want to say you knew me way back when? Subscribe to my email -- my list is completely spam free, and you can opt out at any time.