Six years ago my life was a sewage pit of porn, masturbation, promiscuity, homosexuality, bestiality, incest, and dozens of other things I thought I absolutely needed to get through the day. I would get sick of what I was doing. My wife and my boss threatened me. I would swear that I’d never do it again. And yet, despite my best intentions, my best efforts, within days (or at most weeks), I was back doing the same things again and again.
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 acted out. I practiced hard at it. I started at a young age. I lived my life in fear and fantasy. I did not know how to live in the real world. I wanted to be any place but “here.” Fantasy would take me over “there.” I acted out to feel better; I liked it, and I pursued it to the gates of insanity and death.
I stood in disbelief. The computer screen had three emails from women at work that I was acting out with. My wife was crying, asking me, “Why?” I was in shock. I stood there physically present, but emotionally far, far away. I was numb to my feelings, to my life, and to myself.
My first sexual experience was with my uncle when I was nine years old. This grew into a full-blown homosexual relationship that lasted until I was eighteen. When it began, I was starved for acceptance and love, and I needed to feel wanted. When he chose me, I felt special.
I believe I was a sexaholic at ten years old. I remember at that age undressing the girls in my classroom with my eyes. In my mind the girls were nothing more than robots.
When I hit bottom somewhere around end of 1985, my marriage was over and my family was shattered. I was shamed, angry, resentful, and filled with desire for justice and revenge against all the others I was blaming for my situation. I was also aware that no solution was available to me.
When I was a boy growing upon the farm, I was a very private, shy person, and it was very hard for me to ask anyone about sex. So when my neighbor introduced me to sexual activity, I was ashamed to talk to anyone except the priest in the confessional.
All my life, all I wanted was to fit in, to be accepted, and to feel okay about myself. I grew up in a family of multiple addictions, and I was a loner. From very early on I hated myself. I felt trapped, always wishing and waiting to grow up so I could do what I wanted to and have the freedom to get away from it all.
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.
