I grew up as an only child in what I believed to be a normal family. To this day I question what “normal” is. Not many kids lived on my street; it was mostly older people—until my friend “Ron” moved in. Ron and I were the same age (13) and we went to the same school, so I had a new friend. Ron introduced me to pornography. Between books, magazines, and movies he seemed to have it all. I’d never seen anything like it. He didn’t hide it from his mom and it almost seemed okay because his mom was so lax.

I found myself almost instantly addicted. I was constantly at his house looking at porn. I began stealing it from him so I could have it at home. It felt wrong at the time, but I just needed to have it. My mom found my stash once and left a note saying that the world really wasn’t like that, but that was all she did about it.

Looking back, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Throughout junior high, I was the kind of kid who always got picked on. I would lust after girls in school and then go home and masturbate. I never showed my true feelings. I seemed to be teaching myself that masturbating would cover up all my problems. Boy was I wrong!

This pattern continued through adolescence until I was 17 and started dating. I continued to masturbate several times a day, but now I was also acting out with girls. I began the pursuit of the girl that would be the perfect one for me. With her, I wouldn’t have to do all this other stuff to feel better. But she never came.

Throughout all this I maintained good grades. I went to a two-year college. I got a job that was perfect for me. All the while I was acting out. In my career I was a public servant who should have known better, but I didn’t care.

I found the Internet, and that was the beginning of the end for me. It started with chat rooms, then meeting girls, then pictures, and on to child pornography. I was walking down a path I thought I’d never take. It got so easy to get on the computer and hide from my feelings. I was out of control. I knew I would eventually get caught. I wanted to stop so badly but couldn’t. I used to shut off the computer and cry or pray and promise my God that I would never do it again. Sometimes this respite would last days, sometimes just a few hours—then I’d be back at it. I lost my faith in God. I thought: How can I keep promising this and keep going back on my word?

When I was 27, I married the girl of my dreams. She was the one who was going to cure me. The problem was she had no idea of my struggle since I never shared it or my feelings with her. When she suspected something, I would lie to her. I cheated on her as well.

My healing process began in 2004. While I was at work, the FBI called and told me to come home. I knew exactly what it was about and actually felt relieved, believe it or not. My whole world came crashing in on me. Two days later, after 11 years, I was unemployed.

My wife, along with her family and mine, supported me. I started seeing a counselor; he recommended I attend SA. I put it off for several months and then I finally called. The next day, I met an SA member who took me to a meeting. I felt very strange, but I went to another meeting the next day. When I came home I told my wife that I didn’t belong there! She said I should give it more time, so I did.

At my third meeting, I asked someone to be my sponsor. He was a temporary sponsor, and I never really used him. He started me on Step One, and I started feeling like I belonged. I went to two or three meetings a week. I shared during the meetings and felt I had a connection with the people there.

I reached one year of sobriety and got the funny feeling in my head that this was easy. I started getting lax, and guess what? I didn’t stay sober long. I had to admit my powerlessness once again and start over. My first sponsor passed away, and I was searching for a new one. I waited for a month or two, then I called someone at least once a day until I asked someone to be my current sponsor.

I do not have daily contact with my sponsor now. I write him often and speak to him once or twice a month. I am currently serving 63 months in Federal Prison, stemming from the original FBI charges in my home. We all have heard the rumors of how sex offenders are treated in prison. Some of the rumors are true, but not all of them.

As best I can, I keep the reasons I’m here anonymous, but I do share with people I trust. I had literature donated to me from SA and my sponsor (Sexaholics Anonymous, Recovery Continues, etc.). I gave these to a friend who was getting out. He related to my story and was going to find a meeting. I needed to keep my level of safety, so I felt it was better to not have materials around. I am still sober, just for today though.

My sobriety date is November 13, 2005. I attend several self-help groups here and I’m working on expressing my feelings.

My wife divorced me while I was here. I don’t know what my future holds, but I continue to live one day at a time. The best parts are that I am sober, I can look the world in the eye, and stand free.

Yours in sobriety,