Originally published in prison newsletter 2011, adapted for ESSAY by permission

For many of us, our addiction is a disease of isolation and loneliness. Even those of us who have been outwardly successful—with families, careers, and a group of friends—often find that our relationships are really only superficial. Addicts, for the most part, have real trouble connecting on an emotional level with other people. This is the result of many factors such as fear, resentment, anger, and often just a sense of being different from others.

This description very accurately characterizes me. I was a successful career employee at a large corporation, was married with children and involved in their lives, and had a number of friends. Externally, I had all the trappings of a model citizen, but I knew better. Ultimately, my worst fears of being publicly humiliated for my actions came true, costing me my marriage, my job, my friends, and my involvement in my children’s day-to-day lives. Prison is just the icing on the cake—the rest hurts much worse.

Thankfully, I hit a very hard bottom and was blessed with a real spiritual experience in recovery. I did extensive work with a psychologist to better understand how I got where I was. More important, however, I joined SA, a fellowship of sexaholics like me who could love me through the worst time of my life. I threw myself into the program with all the energy and honesty I could muster and found that all that SA promised could be delivered and more. Today I gladly carry the message of recovery. That’s because SA saved my life.

In my Step work, I began to discover that the relationships I’d had all my life were far from what true love for my fellow man (or woman) can be. Even with my wife, I was never connected at a level of complete honesty and trust, nor could I be. I never had any trouble seeing where others lacked honesty and trust, but it took the consequences I suffered to finally see these failures in myself. A member of AA relates a similar story in “Gutter Bravado” (AA 505): “My cherished individualism was turning into isolationism. I had a growing uneasiness that I was in a vicious circle. I had no friends—only acquaintances.”

A few months before I truly hit bottom, I was miserable enough to try out an SA meeting—so I went. I immediately felt welcomed and realized that these people really understood what I was going through. Still, I wasn’t ready to completely give myself up to the program and to God, even though I knew that I was completely out of control (I call it insanity) and had no power to change things. However, when my indiscretions were finally revealed and I hit bottom, this group of people was there to catch me and lead me into what has been the greatest period of growth I’ve ever experienced. Here’s what is even more important though: those same people continue to support me today, four years later and three years into my sentence. They aren’t acquaintances; they are true friends.

In the 12&12, Bill W. describes the loners who come into AA, and he wonders whether AA can offer these members the same real level of social and family contentment that others seem to have: “… can AA offer them satisfactions of similar worth and durability? Yes—whenever they try hard to seek them out. Surrounded by so many AA friends, these so-called loners tell us they no longer feel alone. …We daily see such members render prodigies of service, and receive great joys in return” (12&12 120).

In “Working with Others,” Bill writes, “Life will take on a new meaning. To watch people recover, to see them help others, to watch loneliness vanish, to see a fellowship grow up about you, to have a host of friends—this is an experience you must not miss” (AA 89).

I can easily lose myself in negative thinking. I wanted to find a way to avoid prison, but it wasn’t to be. Instead, I have learned to find thankfulness for all that is right in my life. I’m no longer driven by the insatiable demands of lust. I have a spiritual connection that allows me to feel whole in a way I never did before. Most important, I have honest, open relationships with friends who know what I’ve been through and support me fully. I’ve mended fences with some and stand ready to do so with everyone else I harmed in any way. I’m able to love and be loved.

If I can convey anything about SA recovery to someone who doubts the ability of our fellowship to help, it’s this: You are not alone. There is a group of people who have been through what you have and more, and we want to help you get out of the vicious merry-go-round you’ve been on. We do it because it helps us recover, not because of religious demands or in order to gain something materially.

When I can help another recover, it helps me to stay recovered. That’s the immediate payback. However, the result is lasting, true friendship with people I trust and love and who feel the same toward me. It’s really a beautiful thing, and when I watch closely, I see God in all of it.

Maybe SA is not for you—it’s not for everybody. However, it just may save your life and help you to rebuild from the loss you’ve experienced thus far. The risk is very small—your time and willingness are all that is required. In return, you may just receive the priceless gift of life and love that I and many others have received in the fellowship of SA.