How did I—a nice, self-respecting recovering alcoholic with more than 14 years of sobriety—find myself sitting in a meeting with a bunch of lowly sexaholics? After all, I had worked the Steps many times. I sponsored several men. I had never lied to my AA sponsors.
I am writing to suggest that financial and moral support for SA International Central Office is a vital part of our Twelfth Step work. Our groups are spiritual entities carrying a spiritual message. We may for that reason have trouble supporting Central Office unless we see how the duties of our Central Office are also spiritually based and a necessary part of carrying the message.
My sobriety date is January 1, 1991. The longer I am sober, the more I need a meeting because I am close to a relapse. Why, you may ask? Well, there are a lot of new people, but not a lot of people with long-term recovery. That tells me that I am closer than ever to relapse. What I have been doing has been working for me, so I keep doing it.
The addict part of my mind likes to get me spinning around and frantically worrying about my problems. It likes to convince me that the only behavior that’s right is to be firmly in the driver’s seat of my life. “You must be in charge of you,” it shouts, as I bulldoze my way through the day, leaving a trail of scarred situations behind me.
The Oxford Group's “Four Absolutes” were absolute honesty, absolute purity, absolute unselfishness, and absolute love (the Oxford group was a precursor to AA).
In the summer of 2001, I spoke with women in other 12 Step fellowships who identified themselves as having SA issues. At the time, only two women were active in SA groups in San Diego. Other women were reluctant to come to SA because the fellowship was mainly men. I began to think how lovely it would be to gather all of these women in one room so that they could hear that other women have similar issues.
In meetings, I have often heard sexaholism referred to as “it.” It is cunning and baffling. But my experience has revealed that there is no it in my life, there is only me. By making my sexual compulsiveness an it, I’m trying to minimize my problem in order to make it seem more manageable (by me). It is not cunning and baffling; I am.
When I was new in the program, I was justifiably angry with someone I had resented for years. My sponsor told me to pray for the person I was angry with every day and every time he came to mind. I said, “You’re kidding, right?” Of course, he wasn’t. He said my prayers should be honest.
Asking for something means that I am not in control of the outcome. I may get what I asked for, I may not. It may look like I expect it to, it may not. I never was very comfortable with this before. I strove to set up my life so that no one could refuse me what I wanted. Sometimes I demanded, sometimes I manipulated, sometimes I threatened, but I never just asked and let go of the outcome.
One of the concepts that I learned early on in SA was that the problem was not my behavior, the problem was my thinking. Acting out starts in my mind. If I entertain lust, it eventually will lead to acting out. In order to relapse, I have to have made the decision to allow lust in my mind without having surrendered it, probably repeatedly.
