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May 22 • Digging Up Crap

Day 683

Am I a sex addict, or am I not? After more than 750 days since I first offered out loud that I might be one, wouldn't you think I should know with certainty by now?

If I am not a sex addict, then it's time I get off the dead horse, stop leaning on meetings and the sage advice of confirmed addicts, and take my chances on my own strength and intelligence, albeit the same strength and smarts that got me here.

If I am a sex addict, then it's time I stop being surprised by the struggles and screw-ups that I continue to have and against which I claim the small daily victories.

So which is it?

Maybe I can get clarity by removing "sex" from the question. Am I an addict? Period.

Since my libido is almost non-existent since committing to recovery, it's an easy leap to believe my issues have nothing to do with sex. It also makes sense, especially with all the data and all the other sex addicts that admit to the same problems, that it is indeed all about my sexual self, even though it hammers every other part of my being.

The issues I've struggled with the past few days, after weeks of relative peace, remind me that I do have deep self-inflicted scars from years of dishonesty and the selfish embrace of sexual fantasies in all aspects of my life. If current issues were about fantasies and temptations, this would be so damn much easier, but my struggles run rampant about my self-value, the pain I caused and cause others, and asking whether anyone is better off with me being here. That's a lot of crap to keep digging up. But sometimes the earth just opens up and lays bare the stench of me.

This journal entry seems more of a regurgitation of long-resolved questions that keep coming back. They tend to be quickly re-answered within the 12-Step program context, when I remember to go there and rely on the experience, wisdom, and data-driven affirmations of those that have been here for many years.

It makes me deeply sad, then freightened, then I start looking for validation in places where it cannot come because it doesn't exist in the places I am want to look.

I do not know where I would be today if I were still unable to ask these questions of other men who are fighting the same battles. To my observations, our battles are remarkably the same, even clinical. Whether this condition is just a weakness, a syndrome, or an addiction, the treatment seems to be the same and includes honesty, one day at a time, and surrendering my will each day that I am given.

Most days, it's getting easier, but when it isn't, it sometimes feels worse than I remember from the last time.



He likes to catch frisbies

And likes to play ball

But diggin up bones he likes most of all

–Paul Minshall, “Pet Shop”



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