Members sometimes ask me, “Why should I do service? Won’t someone else do it? I don’t have the time!” But my sponsor always says: “SA was here when I needed it, and it is my responsibility to see that it is here for somebody else!”
Today a fellow in our group received his eight-month chip. I recalled how desperately upset he’d been when he first came to SA—but today he demonstrated a great peace and calmness. I realized that this is also my story.
I was at a meeting today where a member shared about his anxieties and fears regarding events happening here in Denver. I wanted to grab him and tell him there is a solution—because in my own life I’ve had some victory in overcoming fear.
I had a dream in which a woman who was dumping me explained what she thought was wrong with me: “You are lost in self-pity,” she said. I awoke with nausea and a sense of dread. Oh no! Not self-pity!
It took me a while to let go of the idea that I could do this program on my own. I’d been raised to be self-sufficient. I had to figure out how to take care of myself and solve problems on my own. As you can guess, this hasn’t worked for me.
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 name is Jo; I’m a recovering sexaholic in New Zealand. I have been sexually sober by the grace of God since April 7, 2007.
I remember sitting in our counselor’s office when my husband told me he wanted a divorce. I was devastated. Not because I loved him all that much. My ongoing emotional affairs with the men at work, combined with sexual fantasies and masturbation, were dearer to me than my husband was at the time.
Hi all! I’m Gavin, sexaholic from Adelaide, South Australia.
Sexaholism does not care about nationality, politics, or religion. I am Russian—and I’m a good example of that. At the end of the 80s, observing the collapse of Communism, I found myself left with a deep sense of frustration, resentment, and fear.
