I want to sincerely thank everyone who posted and emailed me. I was surprised that anyone cared and . . . well . . . thank you. It means a lot that other people care.
I went to see my therapist today. That was difficult. Embarrassing. Painful.
I haven’t seen him for a really long time so I filled him in on how the business is going, my husband and kids. You know. Small talk.
It was really, really difficult to tell him I’d lost my sobriety. And trying to relate exactly what I’ve been doing was worse. So I minimized, at least as much as possible without lying.
He was concerned about my safety. I talked about how I’m not sure how I feel, that I honestly don’t feel all that bad. And I really don’t feel terrible; not that guilty, not that ashamed. I’m okay. Really. Although to be absolutely truthful I’ve only been sober around 10 hours. Telling him that was embarrassing too.
I said that even though I had been surfing porn, reading porn, I was being safe; because as long as I’m not chatting, having phone sex, cybersex, or meeting anyone face-to-face; I’m being safe.
But although I’m feeling pretty safe, he doesn’t agree. He actually sees porn as a “gateway drug” that’s the equivalent of lighting a match.
And actually, I can sort of see that he’s probably right. Vanilla porn is boring, so I don’t bother with it, although I remember it being pretty hot years ago. And some of the porn that was pretty hot on Monday was pretty boring by today. That doesn’t bode well for tomorrow, I guess.
He said that he’s not surprised that I acted out because I’m overwhelmed with stress. Funny. I don’t feel overwhelmed with stress. I also don’t feel hungry, although I haven’t eaten much today. Coffee. Two fish-sticks and a piece of pizza. I don’t feel tired either, although I’ve woken up between 1:00 and 4:00 a.m for the past few mornings. I don’t even feel horny, which should make it easier to keep to my commitment to avoid the porn tonight. I do feel jittery though. Probably the coffee.
After I saw my therapist, I went to an AA meeting. I’m not an alcoholic, so I only go to open meetings, but this one is close to my house, so I went even though it’s a closed meeting. What the hell were they going to do, kick me out? Anyway — get this! There was a guy there who had been out drinking the night before. He had a hangover and felt crappy. Guess what he’d been thinking? That he wasn’t really an alcoholic.
That sounded like me; just substitute sexaholic for alcoholic.
When I got home, I was okay. My oldest was home from college and heard me mention to my husband that maybe we should get a bottle of wine for the weekend. She was like, “Oh, hey . . . that might not be a great idea. You and alcohol don’t do too well together.”
I was like, “What? When have you ever seen me overindulge?”
She started sputtering and laughing and said, “You’ve got to be kidding, right? You bit me!”
I’d forgotten about that time. Right before I went to treatment, I got really, really drunk. Blackout drunk. I don’t (didn’t) drink much, but that night I had something like 6 shots and several beers. After a friend drove me home (thank God I had the sense to call someone to drive me) I flipped out. Screamed bloody murder at my husband, and fought my two older kids as they tried to help me upstairs to bed. I bit my daughter and kicked my son in the groin.
I haven’t had a drink since that day, whenever it was. Something over 4 years ago.
But I bet it qualifies me to attend a closed AA meeting, right?
Tomorrow I’ll write some more about what I discussed in with my therapist. God, that sounds so sanctimonious and self-aggrandizing. Blogging has got to be the ultimate form of narcissistic, arrogant egomania. Now I do feel ashamed.