In July 1985, a man loaned me a copy of an earlier version of the White Book. I read it twice in two weeks. My mind was numbed by remnants of the lust drug, and I couldn’t take in a lot of it. But what I remember is the tremendous feeling of hope I felt after decades of misery and failure.
I attended my first SA meeting in 1988 at a Methodist church in Nashville, Tennessee. At the time, Roy had nine years of sexual sobriety. Back then, the definition of “old-timer” was three years of sobriety. Roy was years ahead of the “new” old-timers.
I first met Roy—at a distance—when I attended my first international convention in Oklahoma City in December 1985. I had about four months of sobriety back then. Someone pointed Roy out to me but I did not formally introduce myself.
I would like to share my memories of Roy K., who was perhaps second only to my father in influencing my life for the better.
During the July 2009 meeting of the General Delegate Assembly (GDA) in Denver, two special letters were read.
When I first came into SA, wrote my Step 0, and came to meetings, I knew what I had to do. I deleted the phone numbers of three guys I had acted out with. I closed down my Instant Messenger program and removed the program from my computer.
As I was reading Step Into Action, I was reminded of the phrase “My best thinking has gotten me to where I am today!” I started thinking about “my best thinking” prior to recovery and realized that my thinking had been all about me.
What a life. Great job. Tons of friends and a loving family. Oh, did I mention that I’m insane? Clueless and selfishly delusional, I spent years wreaking havoc on others while projecting the image of Superman. In early 2007, my addiction to Internet pornography landed me in jail.
It’s hard to say exactly when and how I became a sexaholic. At age 10 or 11, I was given a pocket calendar with a picture of a naked woman on it (I was so deeply impressed that today I can still remember the calendar). After that I would often go to the market in my neighborhood looking around for more “sexy calendars” hanging on the walls of the stalls.
Today I know that I’m not in charge of my life. I know that there is a God, and that I owe my continued sobriety to my relationship with Him. But it has taken me a long time to learn those lessons, and I’m still learning them today.
