The Real Connection
My name is Will. I’m a sexaholic and part of a recovering couple. I’ve been sexually sober since January 5, 2000.
My name is Will. I’m a sexaholic and part of a recovering couple. I’ve been sexually sober since January 5, 2000.
How did my addiction to lust begin? There are many ways I could explain it: my childhood; my parents’ relationships with themselves, with me, and with others; genetic predisposition—it can be looked at from different angles. Today I believe that my addiction stems from my relationship with myself, from my unhealthy self-talk.
In one of the Harry Potter books, the defense against the Dark Arts teacher would shout, “Constant vigilance!” He meant, of course, that constant vigilance is necessary in order to stay safe from practitioners of the dark arts. When I read this, my first thought was “That’s how I have to be with my sexaholism.”
At the beginning of Sexaholics Anonymous (15), the narrator says in part: “Then one night out of nowhere a prostitute jumped into my car . . .” (emphasis added). I used to think that my own behaviors occurred “out of nowhere.”
I’m the type of sexaholic who likes to do everything by myself. I started my own business, did my own accounting, and wrote my own contracts. When I play music, I only want to play my music. I don’t want or need any help because I can do it all by myself!
I first came to SA in October 2004—the same date I started consulting for my current employer. My work requires me to travel to China. My start in SA kept me sexually sober for the next two years, while travelling to China every five weeks, for about two weeks at a time.
I’ve been hit hard by lust this last week. When that happens, my only choice is to surrender and turn to my Higher Power. The program becomes really simple after that.
I’ve always had a large ego, which never allowed me to acknowledge that I needed God. I looked down on people of faith, thinking they were foolish or weak, and that they used the notion of God as a crutch.
I’m battling a disease that is much greater than I am, and which needs no rest. My disease is focused on driving a wedge between me and everything I hold dear. It is intent on killing me. It knows that by isolating me it can make me believe its lies—but as long as I have others to talk with, I can keep my addiction at bay.
My initials are L. A. I’m powerless over lust without God’s help.