It’s after 2 a.m. I need to get up and ready for work at 5 a.m., just three short hours away. I must try to get some sleep. But what if there’s an opportunity for a connection with another lonely heart out there? What if I’m missing something? The East Coast should be waking up by now.

I went to bed after midnight but got up again a few minutes later because I could not sleep. I might miss something. This insatiable hunger for connection with others in anonymous sex has fueled a fire I cannot quell. Perhaps she emailed a reply. I’d better check my email. I get up, log on, and check my email. “Nothing. Damn.” I think, “Well while I’m here perhaps I can go into another chat room. This time I’ll leave my name ambiguous. I can chat with lesbians that way. I’ll be a 32-year-old woman. Or I can enter a gay men’s room. There I’ll be a 48-year-old man looking for someone to be his subordinate.”

I try to grab two hours of sleep before I go to work in the morning. Aghh! This makes for a long day. “I will NOT be doing this again tonight I assure you,” I think to myself. “NO WAY.”

I get home and the first thing I do is head right to the computer. “Come on,” I think to myself “hurry up and boot.” Eagerly I check my email. There’s one from a woman I had cybersex with. I told her I was a young man just divorced and quite lonely. I can weasel my way into women’s hearts and draw their strength from them. But wait, no, I’m wrong. This whole thing is wrong. I feel ashamed of what I’m doing. What did she say? She thanks me for what we shared last night. She could not sleep either thinking of me all day. Yea, yea, yea. Did she send another X-rated picture? That is all I want to know. I see a picture of her and her kids. I tell myself that I don’t need this. I am not going to chat with her anymore. Well, no more email. I promised myself I would not go to chat rooms today. I want to get to sleep early.

While I’m here, I may as well check into another chat room. Maybe she’s there again. Her husband is out of town. He is not supposed to be back until the end of the week. Damn, too bad she’s on the other side of the country.

It’s 11 p.m. again; way past my bedtime. I’m so exhausted I can hardly type. I can’t let go of the keyboard. I should eat something. I’ve been sitting here for more than six hours straight. I had things I needed to do. Perhaps they can wait until tomorrow. They will have to wait. Tomorrow I am not even turning on the computer. I have too many things I need to do.

Damn, it’s going to be another long day at work. I’m forgetting things and starting to be a little careless. There are dark circles under my eyes. At least I shaved this time and took a shower. This is what the disease looks like. Unshaven, unkempt, looking a bit like a refugee from Auschwitz.

Well, I’m glad this day is over. I have to do laundry, shopping, and some general errands. When I’m pumped up on cybersex and Internet addiction, every woman looks like she could be the one I just had cybersex with. I stare at them all with a deep-seated lust in my heart. I am invisible or so low that when they look at me they look over my head. I see that woman in jeans. She is overweight but not unattractive. I see that older woman crossing the street walking her dogs. Nice, I say to myself. I am hopelessly lost in fantasy. I can’t wait to go home again and turn the computer on and act out this fantasy life.

“No, that is not right,” I say to myself, “not tonight.” I finished half the things I meant to do and rush home to get online. Let me see what women of this ethnic persuasion look like. How about this other ethnic group?

I started my sexaholic journey before I can remember. I grew up in a war zone with two alcoholic parents and a raging sexaholic father. I was probably destined for a life of sexaholism. I started with men’s magazines I found around the house. As technologies grew, my addiction drank them in. I started with 8mm movies, then progressed to Super 8. Beta was next, then VHS. When the computer was available I was more than ready for that too. I immediately started into chat rooms, images, and setting up meetings with people.

I always knew I was different from most people. How could I not have been, given my family of origin? I met a woman on the Internet and had an affair with her. She became pregnant and was adamant about keeping the baby. I didn’t want to have a child with this woman. I prayed the sexaholic’s prayer: “God if you get me out of this I’ll be good.” God allowed the woman to miscarry. I continued my sexaholic ways.

I was changing my life and trying to start over when I got a call from a woman I was chatting with. My girlfriend at the time (now my wife) listened to the phone message and wanted to know who it was. I told her it must be a wrong number. I was lying and I am not very good at that. The betrayal and denial continued. It was a constant source of argument. I, having no boundaries, thought that cybersex was nothing more than mutual masturbation. Who did it hurt? She, having rigid boundaries, considered cybersex with another person an intrusion into the house. She said it was as if another woman were in the bed with me instead of her. This addiction was slowly driving a wedge between us—until one day, when we watched a program on Oprah about sex addicts.

Amazingly, I found that I could relate to the men’s stories. We decided to seek help. A counselor told me about SA and I was willing to try it. My endless trying to stop—but not being able to do so—was an indication of how powerless I had become. All my attempts at stopping had gotten me further and further into a downward spiral. There was no way out except for divine intervention. The spiral stopped when I found SA.

I can remember that first meeting as if it were yesterday, even though it was more than seven years ago, in September 1999. I walked into the meeting place and three people were ready to give me an orientation. When they finished sharing a little of their own stories I walked into my first meeting. I felt as if I had stepped into a warm Jacuzzi. I felt at home. I knew I was not alone anymore struggling with demons inside my own head. Here were men and women who understood what I was struggling with and who immediately took me in and befriended me. No longer was I ashamed or afraid to share my thoughts and experiences. Here were others who suffered from the same kind of struggles, but they had changed their behaviors and were willing to help me change mine.

After my first meeting, I came back to my apartment. My girlfriend was lying on the couch watching TV. I walked in, turned off the TV, and walked to her and kneeled beside her. I took her hand and placed it over my heart. I looked her dead in her eyes and pleaded from the bottom of my soul, “Please don’t leave me. There is a program and I am willing to change. Please give me a chance to do this.” The next week my girlfriend went to her first S-Anon meeting. We got married, and the two of us have been active in our own programs and another program we share together ever since.

Today I count my sobriety date as August 17, 2000—just over seven years ago. That date is also my wedding anniversary. I was sober before I was married but when we married I changed my sobriety date to my wedding anniversary date. This date is a greater cause for celebration with my wife and I because without sexual sobriety, we would not be married today.

God had a plan for me all along. God’s intention for me was to get well so I could help others get well. It was never any more complicated than that. God saved me from the full consequences of my addictions so that I might live to help others. Once while overseas, I was driving drunk and wrecked a car. I very well could have been killed as I fell asleep behind the wheel traveling about 60 miles an hour. I knew then that God had something for me to do but did not have a clue what it was.

Today my life is very different than it was. My whole life revolves around recovery. The Internet is no longer my slave master. The chains of my addiction have been broken. I am tempted but not obsessed. I have tools I can use to help me through the rough times. I am part of a recovery community that is much greater than myself.

Today, SA service, the fellowship, sponsoring, and being sponsored have all given me the tools I need to stay sober in today’s world. The resentments that plagued me as a child are gone. Forgiveness and tolerance are expressions of God’s will in my life. I am comfortable in my own skin. Who would have known that my prayer in desperation and my promise to do better would result in the gifts I have today? I was powerless to stop my behavior and change myself, but God has changed me through this program.

Access to porn at the time I was growing up was rare. I knew I was different. I seemed destined to a life of sexaholism. No one I knew of was exposed to porn as I was. However, in today’s world we are all three mouse clicks away from acting out.

I believe that we who are sexually sober are pioneers in what will prove to be a worldwide epidemic of unimaginable proportion. Those of us who have accepted the program as a way of life are in a position to help those who struggle. I believe that this is why God gave me this disease, and then saved me from it.

This disease is more powerful than I am. It was the only thing strong enough to bring me to my knees, and only while I am on my knees am I in a position to pray to get better. I believe that God gave me this disease to bring me closer to Him, so that I can be available to show others the way. For this program, the fellowship, and God’s love, I will always be grateful.