I had just arrived at the Nashville airport when I got a voicemail from Jim. The message was “I just got back from the doctor and he told me I have six months to live.” Jim was dead within two weeks. After receiving the message, I immediately called him. I told him how much I loved him and how he was always the brother I never felt I really had.

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.

Recently my sponsor in another 12-Step program pointed out a sentence in the Big Book that I hadn’t paid special attention to before. It comes in Chapter 11, A Vision For You. The reading has to do, in part, with events surrounding a business trip by Bill W., the co-founder of AA, when he was just six months sober.

I believe that Steps One and Two are by far the hardest Steps, because they require no work—only belief and conviction born out of suffering. I was deluded about my understanding of Steps One and Two for many years. I hadn’t suffered enough, I hadn’t believed enough, and my conviction to change was weak.

As a teenager, I was pushed into treatment. I learned about Twelve Step programs there and worked my way through Step Five, but it was only the barest of beginnings and I really didn’t understand how the Steps worked. I loved the program, the history, the meetings, the instant friends everywhere, and the fellowship. I took on many service jobs. My understanding of recovery was to go to lots of meetings, participate in the fellowship, and have fun.

I suffer from a sort of hyper-vigilance. Something in me wants to identify and define every object, every person, every angle and surface in my physical environment. My ears are open; my eyes are taking in the very texture of things around me. This drive to know everything that’s going on around me could be a useful trait if I were Batman and dwelt in Gotham City.

In early recovery, sexual dreams were a new and scary experience. Prior to sobriety, I had only experienced one “wet dream.” It occurred early in what turned out to be eleven and half years of celibacy. The only SA program literature available at the time seemed to indicate that these dreams were a loss of sobriety, so I re-set my sobriety date each time one occurred.

Although I have discovered a number of people I had harmed who did not appear in my Fourth Step, the list of people against whom I held resentments was an excellent place to begin. I had to remember that in the Eighth Step I was merely making the list.

I am a grateful recovering sexaholic and an orthodox Jew. I have been obsessed with sex and lust almost as long as I can remember. I can recall at age twelve, sitting in the bathroom in Israel, playing with myself. By age thirteen, I was masturbating compulsively.

At an international conference sometime in the early 1990s, I was standing at the entrance of the hotel restaurant and I noticed some papers lying by the cash register. I picked them up and read: “Desire for Sobriety: daily renewal with sobriety partners.” I thought, hmmm, probably this wasn’t meant to be left by the cash register.

My name is ____________________ (fill in the blank). I have a disease/disorder/dysfunction/addiction/mental illness (whatever you want to call it) where my brain tells me I should:

I was a lady and ladies just aren’t sex addicts. So I told myself when I thought of joining SA. No, I didn’t have that problem; it was my ex-boyfriend’s problem. The sexual behaviors that we argued about doing were not the problem. He just needed to stop taking care of his ex-wife.

Over the years I have become more aware of how many people in our fellowship have limited the term “sex with self” to mean masturbation to orgasm. I believe this is a problem. I could never consider limiting the definition to merely meaning masturbation to orgasm.

Our recovery calendar page today says, “Gratitude turns problems into blessings, and the unexpected into gifts.” I am grateful for the reminder how important gratitude lists have been to my recovery from sexaholism. During the first several months of sobriety I wrote gratitude lists daily. My sponsor told me to put twenty items on it per day.

The first recollections of my addiction are from the summer of 1961. I would be nine in August and I had just moved to a new subdivision. The only other boy in the neighborhood was four years older than I, and he was pretty lonely, since his parents both worked. We began to spend time with one another, and since he had a house all to himself, most of our time together was spent there.

I spent the first several months foundering about. I “knew” from AA that I would need a sponsor. I am not proud that I waited so long to ask someone to be my sponsor, and I do not recommend the delay unless you really, really enjoy pain, isolation, and misery.

When I was a little girl about five years old, I remember sitting on my grandfather’s lap and combing his hair. It gave me such happy, good feelings. My grandfather died when I was seven. I had trouble in school from that time on. I couldn’t concentrate, I would daydream, and I had headaches. I was a very lonely child after I lost that special relationship. I didn’t know how to get that love from anyone else, so I comforted myself in my fantasies where I was a fairy princess and my Prince Charming would come and carry me off.

My name is William R. My sobriety date is June 12, 1993. I live in the state of Washington, USA. Since January 1998, I have served Sexaholics Anonymous as the Correctional Facilities Coordinator.

Following are portions of an e-mail sent to SA-Net by Dorene S., chair of the delegate assembly, regarding SA sobriety and the Tenth Tradition issues:

The Northwest Region held its biannual retreat May 23 – 25. There were 70 members of SA and S-Anon in attendance.