I grew up as a kid in San Diego. My parents fought a lot. When I was seven years old my mother committed suicide. I became afraid, lonely and isolated. After my mother’s death I started going to religious services with my father. He became very involved with religion and I absorbed what I could. I felt so uncomfortable in my skin. I wanted badly to fit in.
I have been going through a rough patch in my recovery. For the last few weeks and months I have been coasting. Today is 501 days of sobriety. That is 1 year, 4 months and 2 weeks of sobriety. When I walked back into these rooms I was on fire. I had to stay sober. My life depended on it. As I gained sobriety life was getting better. My wife started to like me again.
1. Each morning I look at the sign over my bed that says “Good Morning. This is God. I will be handling all your problems today; I will not need your help. So, relax and enjoy the day.” It reminds me that I am his child whom he loves, regardless of what I have done or not done.
I am forever grateful to God for sound mind, body, and spirit.
“Ask Him in your morning meditation what you can do each day for the man who is still sick.” My thoughts:
I have been a person who, despite having studied humanistic subjects, always lived a life in which the center of everything was me. I did not serve anyone. Rather, with few exceptions, I served myself all and everything.
I came to SA looking to stop ruining my life. I never knew that the key to this was service work. I have been in SA since 2001 (with a long break for research and development). I have never been willing to do what my sponsors asked. I would do half of what a sponsor asked me to do. However, Page 59 of the AA Big Book states “Half measures availed us nothing. We stood at the turning point.”
You have been there for my husband through our entire marriage, but you have been a disaster! You have been a stress and anxiety release for him, while causing more for me. You have been there when my husband watched TV, viewed pictures, watched porn, took showers, even next to me in bed. You were there with his fantasies about others, about me.
It seems like only yesterday that my old friend and sponsor, Jess L., shared with me a wonderful story. He said that there once was a world-renowned football team that had successful seasons year after year. One year, however, things were not going well for the team. They were certainly not playing their best. Their famous, well-respected coach felt it was time to intervene.
In a recent meeting a member expressed his envy of so-called “normies,” men whose reactions to sexual stimuli seem to be less intense or more controlled than those that characterize sexaholics. I understood the sentiment and shared it, but also had other reactions to the notion of normality.
