Alcoholics Anonymous (the “Big Book”) and Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions have proven to be indispensable guides in my recovery journey. When I place these two recovery manuals alongside Sexaholics Anonymous, our White Book, I find helpful connections.
Steps 1-3 brought me into the SA program (vs. just participating in meetings). Steps 4-9 under the guidance of a sponsor took me though the process of reconciling with my past and connecting rightly with God and others. Steps 10-12 keep me in right relationship with God and others and show me a path ahead to keep growing spiritually.
I am seeking a timeless and relevant God to assume ownership of all my affairs and provide guidance for all future decisions. This God will negotiate all interactions between me, my true self, and the rest of creation. My new Higher Power will direct my steps to either avoid or correctly navigate difficult and painful situations, self-induced or otherwise, at His discretion.
In the cell block I have a friend Seth. He talks to me, is friendly and warm. He has been open and honest about his heroin addiction.
Have you ever known something—then you didn’t? Have you ever believed it—then you didn’t? Have you had faith and lost it? I have. I was a student, teacher, preacher and leader. I knew the Bible inside and out. I had faith that my God was real. I believed it with all my heart. However, I had a secret. That secret was my addiction. This addiction ate at my core.
I used to rock climb. I mean the big mountains, like the Grand Teton in Wyoming, 13,775 feet tall. These experiences taught me some valuable lessons. When I climbed the big mountains, I never climbed alone; I was always roped together with a friend as we climbed over dangerous areas. Can I apply this lesson to my lust addiction? You bet.
Throughout my life I used food, alcohol, drugs, relationships, sex, work, and achievements to fill up a gaping hole inside which never seemed satisfied. I had an insatiable need for recognition from people. I viewed everything through a prism of me, self-obsession to the nth degree.
I will survive if I am strong, I will perish if I am weak, I will beat my addiction, I will not admit defeat.
My natural tendency is to vacillate between pride and shame. Maybe I hit moments of humility somewhere in between. It occurs to me is that both pride and shame are dishonest states of being, while humility is completely honest. That’s why I can slip into a false humility quite easily, because it is dishonest and still being prideful. It’s still about me, and not about God and others.
My battle against the addiction was devouring my insides, and the only way to cope with it was to project everything on those nearest to me. As the monks did in the Middle Ages when they flagellated their backs for having sinned, I flogged myself psychologically very hard and did that with others.
