Recently, I had a painful experience that knocked me down mentally (I did manage to keep my physical sobriety thanks to the support of God and SA) and showed me once again how cunning, baffling, and powerful this disease is. To quote Alcoholics Anonymous, “I have a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of my spiritual condition” (85). I’m not cured! I was doing pretty well in my recovery: doing a daily sobriety renewal, calling other women in the program, and talking to my sponsor. I have a date set to give my Fifth Step and have been writing on it when I have private moments. But I have a husband and two kids who are often close at hand, and I was using them as an excuse for not making much progress. Since this experience, I’ve been taking time alone to work on my Step Four writing.

One of my “bottles” was a married man who turned out to be a genuinely caring person. We had a secret friendship for months after the physical connection ended. I couldn’t figure out until I got to SA why every time I started talking to him, he became an obsession and I wanted him every minute as my best friend and life mate. It would always end up with me being in emotional turmoil over what I “can’t have” and admitting to him that I couldn’t handle a friendship with him. He’d be kind and understanding and say something like “maybe later when you’re feeling stronger we can be friends.”

When I got into SA, I learned that all contact with past romances is off limits; this made good sense. I had refrained from contacting this person since becoming sober. But one day when I was feeling lonely at work, I thought “now that I’m sober in SA, I can surely inquire about his well-being and then carry on with my life.” The first clue I ignored was that I was feeling lonely and really just wanted the familiar lust hit that comes with contacting him. I knew I should call my sponsor or another SA member before acting on this thought, but my lust won and I hit the ‘send’ key on my “how are you?” email. The insanity returned the moment I sent the email. The new and wonderful sense of living in reality that I have been blessed with since joining SA evaporated quickly.

My first obsession was wondering when he’d respond. When it took a couple of days, I emailed again. This time he left a message on my work phone saying that he was fine. His voice did not sound fine and when he did respond by email, he shared that his father-in-law had died that day. Of course, I had to respond to express my sympathy. I wish that had been the end of it but it wasn’t. My disease of unreality set in; its power astounds me. I sunk into a deep despair, feeling very shameful and angry at myself for having contacted him. I couldn’t believe that my obsession with him replaced the gift of “living in reality” so quickly. I couldn’t function at work and was sobbing uncontrollably at my desk over the fact that he didn’t love me and didn’t leave his wife for me. I again needed him in order to make me okay and I knew at the same time that was never going to happen.

What gradually brought me out of the despair was telling my sponsor what I had done, sharing it with my group, and receiving the love, understanding, and support from them that I believe is God in action. I am now taking extra precautions to make sure I don’t send inappropriate emails when I’m feeling vulnerable. I am also reminding myself that his life is none of my business. This pain has been a great teacher but not something I want to experience again if I can help it. People say that our tolerance for lust goes down the longer we are sober. I am beginning to see what that means. Actions motivated by lust that seemed normal before recovery now cause pain very quickly. I am beginning to know my limitations as a sexaholic. I hope the next time that others suggest that I not take a certain action, I will trust the people who have gone before me, and not take it.