This guest post comes from a wife and mother of two who is struggling with sexual addiction.
“Oh no, I just swerved!” I say to myself as I try to maneuver through the Marconi Curve. I had just slammed a celebratory high gravity beer. I’m driving. I’m sexting. I’m distracted. I’m deadly.
I don’t have a problem with substances, controlled, illegal or otherwise. But with that being said I am an addict.
My addiction started off like most I’m sure. I was curious. It was exciting and fun at first. I thought I could control my impulses.
My husband does not want me to share my truth, but I feel that is part of the problem. This “sweep it under the rug” perspective is getting me nowhere. I feel that all of this has happened for a reason. It has to matter. Until I own it, it is always going to own me.
I may not appear to be at rock bottom, but trust me when I tell you that I am. The shame and remorse I feel are almost unbearable. At times I wish for death. I am so tired of causing pain to all that love me, and to myself. My heart is exhausted and my soul hurts.
I have struggled with revealing my addiction. There is no breath test or blood test that can measure the toxicity of the “drug” I abuse. But the destruction of the mind, body, and soul are very real.
Sexual addiction sounds kind of hot, right? Like wouldn’t you love to belly up to a chick at the bar and hear her confess that?
But in reality, who needs a bar when you have the wonderful world wide web! A good friend referred to me that way once: “You’re crazy! You’re a friggin’ sex addict? Just like me! Hahahaha!”
He said it as a compliment, a joke, like it was hot. Sadly I knew the truth of what those words meant all too well. It was probably one of the most painful moments in my life.
I was “seen”. He did not know that sexual addiction was a real problem. But I knew precisely what that label meant. I remember going online and reading up on sexual addiction to see if it rang true, to see If the patterns of what I was doing fit the definition.
Sadly, it fit like a glove[arrow_list]
- The build-up of anticipation
- The “high” of acting out
- The feeling of remorse, emptiness, and shame afterward
- The broken promises to myself and my spouse that it would never happen again
- The withdrawal that was so unbearable that it would lead to me seeking my next fix
I’m not entirely sure when my addiction began. I think it’s been there for decades. It waxes and wanes like the moon. I, like all other addicts have made promises to myself as I am coming off of my “high” (known as acting out) to never partake again and like every addict I am truly sincere.
It seemed the more I tried to keep my promise of sobriety, the stronger the impulse to act out became. The loneliness creeps in and I seek another fix. I tell myself I can control it this time, that I can approach the line, maybe a toe over the line and then retreat to safety.
I lie to myself. I try to justify my behavior by telling myself[arrow_list]
- “It’s just sex.”
- “He gave me permission.”
- “He was not present.”
All of those excuses have a ring of truth to them, but ultimately I know that my abuse and addiction is changing the core of who I am.
I use to pray daily a simple prayer: “Thank you for this life.” I never could have imagined that I was worthy of the life and family that I have. Now, with my addiction I feel soulless. I am afraid to pray, there is this void like I have truly been forsaken.
It took me a little while to connect my DUI to my addiction. It’s been painful and humiliating. I do have a problem and I need to take the necessary steps to recover and to start to heal.