There’s a saying that AA will ruin your drinking. It’s true for sex addiction too. Nothing works as well when you’re thinking in the back of your mind that you might be a sex addict, or in my case that you are having a relapse instead of merely experiencing a rebirth of interest in less vanilla (i.e. more fun) sexual stuff.
I know that sounds totally self-deluded, but that’s exactly what I was trying so hard to believe. Unfortunately (or fortunately I guess) there’s that whole progressive thing that you get with addiction. You know, where “normal porn” is boring. Whether I call it vanilla, normal, or wholesome; it doesn’t work for me for long.
Think of food. Sure it’s nice to have a fancy dinner every once in a while, but imagine if you were hungry, really hungry and a nice PB&J on homemade bread with a tall glass of milk was completely ho-hum. Like so boring that you wouldn’t want to eat it even though your stomach is growling.
That would be kind of sad, don’t you think? That’s not how I want to be. It’s not sober.
So I decided to quit downloading erotica and reread Patrick Carnes and in the process I found a new author, Maureen Canning. The book is Lust, Anger, & Love. After reading a teeny-tiny bit of her book, I just couldn’t make myself believe any more of my own b.s. After reading more, I didn’t feel like working so hard to rationalize any more.
For today anyway.
On a more personal note, my oldest son is in Iraq. If you are one of the many Americans who send packages to our troops overseas, thank you. Today, I went to the post office with the package I’ve been putting together for him. There’s a cd of family photos, some candy, toiletries, and a few magazines, Family Handyman and the like. I hate dropping those packages off. Most of the time I can avoid remembering that he’s over there, wearing body armor and carrying a gun with bullets. I feel so sad when I think about it. I have to fight to stay centered and not fall into a big pit of sadness. Some of those young men and women don’t come home . . . life is not a sure thing. There are no guarantees. That’s difficult to live with.