Je m'appelle Yoshi. J'ai le désir d'arrêter la luxure et de devenir sexuellement sobre. Ma date de sobriété est le 29 juillet 1994. J'ai aujourd'hui 77 ans et j'ai eu de nombreuses "bouées de sauvetage" dans ma vie.
J'ai récemment célébré mon cinquième anniversaire de sobriété en SA et je n'en ai jamais été assez reconnaissant. Je me souviens avoir discuté avec un ancien après une réunion dans mon pays. Je ne connaissais pas encore les SA. Il était dans le programme depuis huit ans.
Je suis de retour ici. Cette ville m'a manqué. Cela fait tout juste dix ans que je n'y suis pas venue. Je respire l'air de la côte. L'étreinte rafraîchissante de la mer devant moi, et les gratte-ciel et les montagnes derrière moi.
One of the practical tools I have found most helpful in recovery, particularly as a method of working step 11, has been setting aside time to pray outside of my house during the day. I have worked remotely since the start of COVID lockdowns in 2020, so I am often able to get away, doing so to houses of worship nearby my home. I have also done so in parks, airport chapels, or in lobbies or waiting rooms when out and about.
I received some news about my health that I was not quite ready for. It meant multiple trips to the doctor and waiting on test results. Waiting has never been a strong suit of mine. I found myself wrestling with fear, for as a sex addict, fear can be quite triggering. Fear is the spark that, if not surrendered to my Higher Power, can start a forest fire of bad decisions.
A few years ago, I read a book, the theme of which was hiding from love. When I entered SA, I discovered—like many addicts—that I had been hiding from love my whole life. For me that’s seventy years which is no short time. A friend in SA who means a lot to me, shared that he too was hiding from love, but that God was working powerfully in his life to change him from the inside out. Slowly, a new desire for real loving connection with people began replacing his old tendency to keep away from people.
Recently during a noon meeting, we were reading Bill’s story out of the Big Book of AA. The secretary stopped us about half way where Bill wrote, “A tumbler full of gin followed by half a dozen bottles of beer would be required if I were to eat any breakfast. Nevertheless, I still thought I could control the situation, and there were periods of sobriety which renewed my wife’s hope. Gradually things got worse.” We call people like this beyond help.
This letter is for every man I ever had sex with. I want to write this letter to make my amends to you. I have used you, either once or regularly, to fill an emptiness inside me that was impossible to fill with human “power.”
Being a sexaholic is a life-long condition, and it goes back to my childhood where I felt inadequate, unworthy, unloved, and lonely. I used to drink resentments about how I walk, talk, and my body shape. Thus, I never dismissed an opportunity to make myself feel better, including active lusting!
Traveling was never appealing to me. Why should I spend money to visit places that millions of people already visited and take pictures to bother my relatives with?
