Bad day yesterday ...
Hiya, gentle reader,
I debated on whether to write about this, but since I'm doing my best to be honest with myself, discover how to better myself, and keep moving forward with my sobriety and abstinence, I don't think I have much of a choice, and this is where I keep myself honest.
Let's see, this is complex and a tad bit embarrassing.
Since I was about 16, I've been somewhat of a slut, okay, make that a really big slut. Now, there have been years of celibacy, but I tend to go in waves.
And gay men have built somewhat of a dark underground subculture of sex, in which I have participated. Not all gay men, mind you or perhaps not even a majority of gay men, and I imagine there is a counterpart in the straight world.
Since I broke up with Kenny, a relationship that was frought with my own sexual insecurities and emotional hangups, I've been on the, shall we say, looser side of things sexually.
It's a problem.
I don't have a moral problem with it, so much, like I'm evil or anything. I just don't think it's healthy for me. My ideal is that I should have one man, one bedroom, and we share THAT bedroom, by ourselves, for life. That, however, has not been my history or my reality. It's not healthy for me. Besides the physical ramifications that I've been living with for 12 years, there are huge emotional prices, and they are hard to catelog.
I am inherently uncomfortable (understatement) with the way my body looks. I always have been, except for maybe a little bit when I was in my early 20's. And so, this constant searching for sex is a constant search for validation that I'm worthwhile physically.
And it's also a search for an emotional need to be touched and held and have a connection with somebody physically. I very rarely find it ... once in a great while, but it's like the gambler who is constantly looking for the perfect hand. He gets it once in a while, but that's enough to bring him back to the table again and again.
Also, it's a way to avoid fully exposing myself to somebody. You'd think that sex would be the ultimate way of exposing yourself, but for me, it's not. Nameless faces and genitals help me stay anonymous and safe from all those people who could hurt me, or tell me I'm not good enough. Of course, the only person who is really telling me that I'm not good enough is me.
Anyway, back to last night. I did what I sometimes do when I get "giddy" and too horny. A really horrible combination. I sort of went into a sex coma, and had a huge need to be with a guy. I won't get graphic about it.
So, I picked up a pack of cigarettes (sigh), headed to my local stomping grounds, and stayed out 'til 1:30 a.m. being a slut. I honestly was in the perfect place to use drugs. If somebody had stuck them in front of my nose, I would have been off and running. Thanks to the Goddess and the long time since I've done drugs, I have NO contacts in that world, and I managed to escape that horrendous consequence.
I don't like the sex coma. I just don't like it. I don't like that cigarette smoking is directly tied into it. I don't like the fact that I didn't get to bed until 2 hours after my normal bedtime, and that I very much considered not going to work today.
Every time I do it, I think, "Travis, this has got to stop." But then I start panicking. What if nobody ever touches me again? What if I never have sex again?
Before I got sober, I was afraid I was going to die. In order to get sober, I had to be willing to die. I think if I'm going to be able to cut this part of my disease out of me, I have to be willing to have nobody ever touch me again and never have sex again.
Am I willing?
At this moment, yes.
Tomorrow? I hope so.
I feel very much like I'm approaching the next level in my sobriety, that I'm coming to a healing place, and my addictions are fighting it tooth and nail. I just gotta keep working towards it and let the Goddess in every day.
In my online One Day at a Time e-mail discussion group, somebody shared about how they keep finding a way to put themselves back into shame. And I think that's what I do on some level. It's a process of making myself worth less, smaller than I am, so that I keep myself humble. Experience has taught me in the past to not be too smart or people call you arrogant and then they won't like you, and I've sort of extrapolated that to all of the other areas of my life.
Anyway, enough for the moment. I'm going to be posting stuff about September 11 later on in the day.
Travis
I debated on whether to write about this, but since I'm doing my best to be honest with myself, discover how to better myself, and keep moving forward with my sobriety and abstinence, I don't think I have much of a choice, and this is where I keep myself honest.
Let's see, this is complex and a tad bit embarrassing.
Since I was about 16, I've been somewhat of a slut, okay, make that a really big slut. Now, there have been years of celibacy, but I tend to go in waves.
And gay men have built somewhat of a dark underground subculture of sex, in which I have participated. Not all gay men, mind you or perhaps not even a majority of gay men, and I imagine there is a counterpart in the straight world.
Since I broke up with Kenny, a relationship that was frought with my own sexual insecurities and emotional hangups, I've been on the, shall we say, looser side of things sexually.
It's a problem.
I don't have a moral problem with it, so much, like I'm evil or anything. I just don't think it's healthy for me. My ideal is that I should have one man, one bedroom, and we share THAT bedroom, by ourselves, for life. That, however, has not been my history or my reality. It's not healthy for me. Besides the physical ramifications that I've been living with for 12 years, there are huge emotional prices, and they are hard to catelog.
I am inherently uncomfortable (understatement) with the way my body looks. I always have been, except for maybe a little bit when I was in my early 20's. And so, this constant searching for sex is a constant search for validation that I'm worthwhile physically.
And it's also a search for an emotional need to be touched and held and have a connection with somebody physically. I very rarely find it ... once in a great while, but it's like the gambler who is constantly looking for the perfect hand. He gets it once in a while, but that's enough to bring him back to the table again and again.
Also, it's a way to avoid fully exposing myself to somebody. You'd think that sex would be the ultimate way of exposing yourself, but for me, it's not. Nameless faces and genitals help me stay anonymous and safe from all those people who could hurt me, or tell me I'm not good enough. Of course, the only person who is really telling me that I'm not good enough is me.
Anyway, back to last night. I did what I sometimes do when I get "giddy" and too horny. A really horrible combination. I sort of went into a sex coma, and had a huge need to be with a guy. I won't get graphic about it.
So, I picked up a pack of cigarettes (sigh), headed to my local stomping grounds, and stayed out 'til 1:30 a.m. being a slut. I honestly was in the perfect place to use drugs. If somebody had stuck them in front of my nose, I would have been off and running. Thanks to the Goddess and the long time since I've done drugs, I have NO contacts in that world, and I managed to escape that horrendous consequence.
I don't like the sex coma. I just don't like it. I don't like that cigarette smoking is directly tied into it. I don't like the fact that I didn't get to bed until 2 hours after my normal bedtime, and that I very much considered not going to work today.
Every time I do it, I think, "Travis, this has got to stop." But then I start panicking. What if nobody ever touches me again? What if I never have sex again?
Before I got sober, I was afraid I was going to die. In order to get sober, I had to be willing to die. I think if I'm going to be able to cut this part of my disease out of me, I have to be willing to have nobody ever touch me again and never have sex again.
Am I willing?
At this moment, yes.
Tomorrow? I hope so.
I feel very much like I'm approaching the next level in my sobriety, that I'm coming to a healing place, and my addictions are fighting it tooth and nail. I just gotta keep working towards it and let the Goddess in every day.
In my online One Day at a Time e-mail discussion group, somebody shared about how they keep finding a way to put themselves back into shame. And I think that's what I do on some level. It's a process of making myself worth less, smaller than I am, so that I keep myself humble. Experience has taught me in the past to not be too smart or people call you arrogant and then they won't like you, and I've sort of extrapolated that to all of the other areas of my life.
Anyway, enough for the moment. I'm going to be posting stuff about September 11 later on in the day.
Travis