When I started this blog I was angry that there weren’t any current blogs written by sex addicts. It seemed like people blogged for awhile and then just quit. What the heck? Did they get better? Were they cured? Or did they stop going to meetings and die?
At that time, I was scared to death that I wasn’t going to do something right and that I’d just fall off the edge of the world. Now, I’m not so afraid. I’m also not so sure I’m an actual sex addict. I had this discussion with my therapist and he had (as usual) an interesting take: that I had problematic sexual behaviors that I no longer have because I’m mentally healthier and I deal with my internal upsets with more awareness and more sophistication. I’m less self abusive. When life knocks me sideways, rather than compulsively surfing porn or masturbating, I’m more likely to make fancy tea, do my nails, or buy something for the garden. Basically I’m trying to self soothe in ways that don’t lead to shame. It’s not easy – I bet I spent more on nail stuff this week than a normal, healthy woman would have. But here’s the thing, I’m not a normal, healthy woman. I’m damaged. And while we all become damaged to some extent as we go through life, childhood sexual abuse is a special kind of damage.
On Facebook today, I saw a thing about child porn being found in Michael Jackson’s house. It astonishes me the number of people who refuse to believe he was a child molestor because he was also a talented entertainer. What? My grandfather was a respected judge. He was also a child molester. That stupid world view makes it harder for us to protect children.
On the local news today, two women have brought suit against the Catholic Church for their childhood molestation and the subsequent cover up – the priest was working at one of our local parishes that has an elementary school.
Two triggers before breakfast on a day when I’m not feeling well physically. This does not bode well for my recovery … except that I’m aware. And these days I’m MUCH more gentle with myself. I used to view this as a sort of weakness – not holding myself accountable or something. But that’s not it. Self abuse feels right because that’s the way human beings work. Breaking those betrayal bonds is DIFFICULT. In my case, it feels comfortable to berate myself for spending money on something stupid like nail stuff but I’m trying to stay grounded in reality: I can afford this. It’s okay to splurge on stupid nail stuff. My therapist would be PROUD of me for recognizing that I’m vulnerable AND for taking steps to care for myself. He would laugh with joy that I was doing my nails!