I just love this song!
The About Me page of this blog gets the most traffic, so I’ve added a little blurb about why I’m blogging. It got me thinking about the tension of between honesty and anonymity in my personal recovery that I thought I’d expand on here.
Like most sex addicts, the worst of my acting out was through the Internet where I acted anonymously and secretly. The sound of a dial up modem connecting is still an incredibly erotic trigger for me! To maintain my sobriety I had to give up the right to use the a computer at all for over six months. Even after that it was a long time before I felt solid enough in my sobriety to check email when I was alone.
Today, instead of acting out online I try to practice my recovery without being secretive. But it’s not an easy balance to strike. Be a little too open and some nutter might endanger me or my family. A little too closed and why bother reading? I like the approach taken by one blogger I admire. Someday I’ll probably ask to borrow her idea of addressing the people who think they know me, it’s just that good, but I want to find my own balance, be comfortable with my own boundaries first.
So I have fear about speaking out about my experiences with recovery from sex addiction, just like this addict:
It sounds simple but there were obstacles and doubts to overcome. I well remember a session with myself soon after I returned [home]. It ran something like this: If I go around shouting from the rooftops about my alcoholism, it might very possibly prevent me from getting a good job. But supposing that just one man died because I had, for selfish reasons, kept my mouth shut? No. I was supposed to be doing God’s will, not mine. His road lay clear before me, and I’d better quit rationalizing myself into any detours. I could not expect to keep what I had gained unless I gave it away.
I highlighted this in my Big Book (p. 253) over three years ago.
At that time, discovering and then following God’s will for me was my primary focus. I believed the dead went to heaven and lived happily ever after with God. So although it would be sad if just one man died because I’d been afraid to jeopardize my anonymity, ultimately it wasn’t all that sad. The bigger issue was following God’s will. I don’t believe in the existence of a deity or an afterlife any more so that one man’s death has become almost unbearably tragic for me. If there’s any way I can help, I should. The meetings, support, therapists, and treatment facilities were there for me when I needed it and I want to do whatever I can to pay it forward.