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Writer's pictureJohn S

July 28 • Eggsactly

Day 750


I still have moments when I become very humbled, even depressed. But I'm not talking about temptations or even the shame of my past. No, I'm talking about my present, and when I don't stop those feelings, I start wallowing in my future, as well. But again, I'm not talking about the struggles of addiction, although those are still real and can appear anytime without warning.


Sometimes I look around the room and can't believe I'm there, and that I want to be there. I look at my call list — the incoming names and the outgoing names — and I shudder at the dangers of overthinking and overtalking. Then I shudder at the possibility and loneliness of those options not being there.


My name is John, and I'm a sex addict. I spend 3-4 hours a week in meetings leaning on and offering a hand to other sex addicts. I spend significant time every day chasing away middle circle behaviors so that I can remain sober. And I do not resent any of it. Yet, every time I stop and realize that I'm now one of those guys, instead of that All-American good guy that I always never was, it humbles and saddens that part of me that wishes this had never happened.


I am not interested in excuses, but I'm close to the point of giving in to the idea that my addiction had to happen. Or, perhaps it happened a long, long time ago, and I have been on the inevitable path to losing control ever since, and there was no stopping it. I'm not a big fan of predestination but if I drop an egg, for about an eighth of a second I am sure that my future includes a mess to clean up. And then it hits, and the only question is how bad would the mess be, and could I get it cleaned up before anyone realized it was my mess.


It has been a while since I recognized that my life was in free-fall, and a big mess was coming. I kept believing I could catch it, or that some mystical power would grant me a soft landing.


But I knew.


So while I can feel sad and lowly for needing my 12 Step meetings, where the hell would I be without them? There were no Step meetings 500 years ago, and people survived just fine. Maybe there weren't even any sex addicts back then. We can guesstulate all we want on such things, but it does not change today's challenges.


The visuals and opportunities that light fires in our souls are more ubiquitous today than they've ever been. Anyone who does not believe that is either living a very sheltered life or is a grand candidate to someday be thankful that there are meetings to help them with their recovery.


–JR

 

All this gripping and grinning, losing and winning, and running

And promises break like an egg on the hot asphalt

What the hell was I thinking, drinking like I'd never get caught

These high dollar women, and the fame

And the fortune, ain't worth the ticket I bought


–Jamey Johnson, “Playing the Part”

 

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