A few days ago, I had given into temptation and e-mailed my ex-mistress, Em. I had asked her to meet with me. I never heard back.
Today Jay, Em's (ex?) girlfriend, sent Kay a message telling me to stop trying to contact Em, that neither of them want me in their life. That hurt.
Not because of Jay. I could care less about her and her feelings about me.
It hurt that Em told Jay that she was communicating with me. It hurt that Em didn't want me in her life anymore. I had a feeling that Em was upset with me. I had tried to contact her several times since I had asked about meeting. And nothing. I saw this coming, but I didn't want to accept it.
Maybe Jay lied.
There's nothing, absolutely nothing, that I fear more than rejection.
I'm feeling pretty depressed, so I took half an antidepressant to try and make me feel better. I take Lexapro 10 mg and have been for about 6 years now. It has worked really well for me with no side effects. I also take Lamictal 300 mg a day as a mood stabilizer. I have been taking Lamictal for 7 years with a few increases over the years. Also a great medicine for me with no side effects.
I'm trying to do things to make me feel better and get my mind off things. Kay and I went to Steak and Shake for dinner. Nothing quite like good food and ice cream to comfort a person. Didn't work as well as I had hoped.
We went to a "talent show" at the local university put on by the theater department. We have several friends who are theater majors. It was a lot of fun and I was able to escape for a bit and laughed a lot, but I have that nagging, hurt feeling still.
They say time heals all wounds. But I have scars. So many scars. Will this wound scar me too?
But maybe a scar can serve as a reminder of the pain I have caused myself and others. Maybe a scar can keep me from repeating my mistakes. Maybe a scar, as ugly as it is, can be a good thing.
I hope I scar.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
My Issues With The Twelve Steps. Or Not?
1. We admitted that we were powerless over lust -- that our lives had become unmanageable.
I have no problem with this step, other than my personal issue with truly accepting that I am powerless and that my life has truly become unmanageable; however, I think it is a great place to start. Deep down, I know that it applies to me. That I'm suffering with denial.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Here is where I start to have issue with the twelve steps. I don't know if I believe in God, or in this case, "a Power greater" than me and, if it does exist, that it can restore me to sanity.
Unfortunately, I think I have been so burned by life and by so-called Christians, that it has damaged the great faith I once had.
Also, being the stubborn, independent person that I am, I want to believe I can restore myself to sanity.
Then again, look how successful I have done it on my own thus far.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Again, I have no understanding of God.
If there is a God, I don't believe we can or ought to even attempt to turn our lives completely over to Him or It.
Even Christians believe we have free will. I interpret this as us having the responsibility to live our lives and it is up to us to find a way to climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
I'm fine with this.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
This works for me.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Here comes the God issue again. I believe it is our job to remove our own defects. We may need support and help from others, but I just don't believe that we can just sit back and say, "God, take all this away. Please and thanks."
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Ditto.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Great idea! I'm good with this.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
Very important step and I accept the importance of it.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.
Absolutely fine with this.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Don't get me wrong, folks. I absolutely do believe in life after death. I do feel the presence of my loved ones who have passed on in my life. I have had spiritual experiences from beyond that I cannot explain away with science, logic, or coincidence. But, despite this, I have trouble accepting there being a God, or at least others' concepts of Him.
Well, it does repeatedly state, God as we understand Him.
Hmm...I think I'm starting to figure this out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to sexaholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Wow. I seriously think I just had a spiritual awakening.
I started this blog post with the intention of spouting about all the problems I have with the Twelve Steps and how they are so God-oriented. But as I sat here and really analyzed what they said, I felt enlightened.
The purpose is for me to come to understand My Higher Power and to discover the concept of it that works for ME.
Maybe I don't have issues with it afterall.
I have no problem with this step, other than my personal issue with truly accepting that I am powerless and that my life has truly become unmanageable; however, I think it is a great place to start. Deep down, I know that it applies to me. That I'm suffering with denial.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Here is where I start to have issue with the twelve steps. I don't know if I believe in God, or in this case, "a Power greater" than me and, if it does exist, that it can restore me to sanity.
Unfortunately, I think I have been so burned by life and by so-called Christians, that it has damaged the great faith I once had.
Also, being the stubborn, independent person that I am, I want to believe I can restore myself to sanity.
Then again, look how successful I have done it on my own thus far.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Again, I have no understanding of God.
If there is a God, I don't believe we can or ought to even attempt to turn our lives completely over to Him or It.
Even Christians believe we have free will. I interpret this as us having the responsibility to live our lives and it is up to us to find a way to climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
I'm fine with this.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
This works for me.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Here comes the God issue again. I believe it is our job to remove our own defects. We may need support and help from others, but I just don't believe that we can just sit back and say, "God, take all this away. Please and thanks."
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Ditto.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Great idea! I'm good with this.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
Very important step and I accept the importance of it.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.
Absolutely fine with this.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Don't get me wrong, folks. I absolutely do believe in life after death. I do feel the presence of my loved ones who have passed on in my life. I have had spiritual experiences from beyond that I cannot explain away with science, logic, or coincidence. But, despite this, I have trouble accepting there being a God, or at least others' concepts of Him.
Well, it does repeatedly state, God as we understand Him.
Hmm...I think I'm starting to figure this out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to sexaholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Wow. I seriously think I just had a spiritual awakening.
I started this blog post with the intention of spouting about all the problems I have with the Twelve Steps and how they are so God-oriented. But as I sat here and really analyzed what they said, I felt enlightened.
The purpose is for me to come to understand My Higher Power and to discover the concept of it that works for ME.
Maybe I don't have issues with it afterall.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Twelve Steps
The Twelve Steps that are used by the support group I attend for my sexual addiction have been adapted from The Twelve Steps used with Alcoholics Anonymous and are used with their permission.
This twelve-step program has only had minor adjustments made to it from the AA steps to make it suitable for sexual addiction.
1. We admitted that we were powerless over lust -- that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to sexaholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
This twelve-step program has only had minor adjustments made to it from the AA steps to make it suitable for sexual addiction.
1. We admitted that we were powerless over lust -- that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to sexaholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Crawling in My Skin
Oh. My. God. I am crawling in my skin. I am so unbearably horny.
Kay came and sat on the bed to talk to me. She rested her foot on my office chair, right between my legs, and it rubbed against my pussy. She didn't mean to. But now I'm so aroused, it's unbearable. I can't ask her for sex after what has happened. I have to let her come to me when she is ready. This is so hard.
The temptation to act out is so strong. I feel like I don't have the strength right now. It's just too much. I want to give up. But I can't. Well, I could, but I don't REALLY want to.
Em (my former mistress) and I had been e-mailing back and forth a couple of times. Just casually. We've been checking in on each other to see how the other is dealing with everything since the big, unanticipated reveal.
I knew I was stepping close to the line by e-mailing her, and now I've crossed over it. I ended up asking her to meet me. She hasn't responded.
This is hard. So fucking hard.
Currently, I'm bouncing around in my chair like I did the time the psychiatrist put me on Celexa. You can't put someone who is suspected to be bipolar on an SSRI alone. Duh. Even I knew that. But the psychiatrist didn't believe I was. Boy, did I prove him wrong. Next office visit, he couldn't get me to stop yammering on and on, talking a mile a minute. Finally he had to practically shout over me, "Okay, okay. You're bipolar."
I'm in constant movement, despite reamining seated in my office chair. My legs bounce up and down as if I'm running a marathon. And when I get up and go to the kitchen, I can't just stand in one place either. It's like I'm wearing moon shoes. Or maybe I should be wearing moon shoes.
I can't focus on my work at all. I keep checking my Facebook, checking all my e-mails, hoping to hear from Em, scared to hear from Em.
This is withdrawal.
Kay didn't want to go to work. She has never seen me like this before and was afraid to leave me. I promised her I would be okay. But can I honestly promise myself that?
I took my mood stabilizer early, hoping that it will help calm me down. It usually makes me sleepy, and I think I can already start to feel it kick in. I'm going to take a nap and hopefully will feel better when I awake.
I'm hoping for sweet, wet, satisfying dreams.
Kay came and sat on the bed to talk to me. She rested her foot on my office chair, right between my legs, and it rubbed against my pussy. She didn't mean to. But now I'm so aroused, it's unbearable. I can't ask her for sex after what has happened. I have to let her come to me when she is ready. This is so hard.
The temptation to act out is so strong. I feel like I don't have the strength right now. It's just too much. I want to give up. But I can't. Well, I could, but I don't REALLY want to.
Em (my former mistress) and I had been e-mailing back and forth a couple of times. Just casually. We've been checking in on each other to see how the other is dealing with everything since the big, unanticipated reveal.
I knew I was stepping close to the line by e-mailing her, and now I've crossed over it. I ended up asking her to meet me. She hasn't responded.
This is hard. So fucking hard.
Currently, I'm bouncing around in my chair like I did the time the psychiatrist put me on Celexa. You can't put someone who is suspected to be bipolar on an SSRI alone. Duh. Even I knew that. But the psychiatrist didn't believe I was. Boy, did I prove him wrong. Next office visit, he couldn't get me to stop yammering on and on, talking a mile a minute. Finally he had to practically shout over me, "Okay, okay. You're bipolar."
I'm in constant movement, despite reamining seated in my office chair. My legs bounce up and down as if I'm running a marathon. And when I get up and go to the kitchen, I can't just stand in one place either. It's like I'm wearing moon shoes. Or maybe I should be wearing moon shoes.
I can't focus on my work at all. I keep checking my Facebook, checking all my e-mails, hoping to hear from Em, scared to hear from Em.
This is withdrawal.
Kay didn't want to go to work. She has never seen me like this before and was afraid to leave me. I promised her I would be okay. But can I honestly promise myself that?
I took my mood stabilizer early, hoping that it will help calm me down. It usually makes me sleepy, and I think I can already start to feel it kick in. I'm going to take a nap and hopefully will feel better when I awake.
I'm hoping for sweet, wet, satisfying dreams.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I Came
So I went to my first support group meeting. I feel like we spent most of the time just fucking around.
Okay. Time to drop the lame jokes for awhile. Oh, but don't worry, it will only be for awhile.
For about the hour before the meeting, I got really anxious and irritable. But once I got there, I quickly relaxed. There were only five other attendees, all men. I liked that it was a small group and I liked that it was all men. I'm not afraid of what other people will do to me. I'm afraid of what I will want to do with other people. As a lesbian in a group of all men, I feel safe.
Though I was a typical girl and cried my way through it, I was able to open up about myself and explain to the group what brought me there. For once in my life, outside of talking to Em (the girl I had the affair with) I didn't feel like a freak. I never really had anyone before Em that I could talk to about my hypersexuality and feel understood. Now I have this group. And it is a safe place to talk about my addiction.
That was the big problem with Em and me. We understood each other. All too well. Jay wasn't satisfying her. They were only having sex about once a month. I don't know how she survived. That would have killed me. At this time, Kay and I were having sex anywhere from once to three times a week. It was the one time weeks that were really killing me. Well, honestly, the three times weeks were too.
For the first three months of our relationship, Kay and I were having mind-blowing, best sex of my life every day, sometimes multiple times a day and for extended periods of time. She couldn't get enough. I thought I had found my dream girl. And then, BAM---no, that's not right--And then ...[crickets chirping].
Out of the blue, it just stopped. It wasn't a slow tapering off. We had been flying high, and then all of a sudden, we crash landed. It became a constant battle with Kay and me over the next year. I tried so hard to stay faithful, but temptations were everywhere and I'm a "loose lesbian on the loose."
Then Em came into my life. It started off as innocent flirting. I actually tried to resist her advances. At this point in time, I decided I didn't want to screw things up with Kay. I really love her and am otherwise extremely happy. My attempts at avoidance extended to the point that I was showing Kay all the messages between Em and me, just so I could keep myself out of trouble. But it didn't last. It wasn't long before the messages stayed between Em and me.
Flirtation for me is a like a taking a shot. I get a buzz. But soon I began to thirst. I started spending more and more time messaging Em, chatting with her, texting her. Each communication is like a small sip. Before long, I crave it. I began spending more and more time fantasizing about her. While I laid in bed trying to sleep. While I masturbated. Even while having sex with Kay. The lust had spread like a cancer. It was consuming all of my time. Time I should have been sleeping, working, spending with Kay.
I felt drained. Dehydrated. The sips were not satisfying me. I itched. I crawled in my skin. It was painful. I needed my drug. Not just a drink. I needed to consume all of her.
We made plans. Em and her girl (who was my best friend) lived an hour away and Em worked second shift. Jay was out of town for work. We lied. We said her battery died and she needed me to "jump her." I jumped her all right. We fucked for hours. So hard, the bed slide several feet across the room.
It was satisfying, but within a week, I wanted another hit. She had to come into town for a doctor's appointment. I met up with her and we got a hotel room.
The next time was at the house again. But that time we got caught in the act (see other post, "Caught in the Act).
Tonight, I found myself at a meeting for sex addicts. I wasn't ready to say outloud, "I'm Lolita and I'm a sex addict." Not at my first meeting anyhow.
I know it inside of me that I have a sex addiction. Admitting it, seriously admitting it outloud, is not as easy as thinking it or typing it. But I know it is going to be absolutely necessary if I am going to beat this.
Next week. Next meeting I will say it.
Okay. Time to drop the lame jokes for awhile. Oh, but don't worry, it will only be for awhile.
For about the hour before the meeting, I got really anxious and irritable. But once I got there, I quickly relaxed. There were only five other attendees, all men. I liked that it was a small group and I liked that it was all men. I'm not afraid of what other people will do to me. I'm afraid of what I will want to do with other people. As a lesbian in a group of all men, I feel safe.
Though I was a typical girl and cried my way through it, I was able to open up about myself and explain to the group what brought me there. For once in my life, outside of talking to Em (the girl I had the affair with) I didn't feel like a freak. I never really had anyone before Em that I could talk to about my hypersexuality and feel understood. Now I have this group. And it is a safe place to talk about my addiction.
That was the big problem with Em and me. We understood each other. All too well. Jay wasn't satisfying her. They were only having sex about once a month. I don't know how she survived. That would have killed me. At this time, Kay and I were having sex anywhere from once to three times a week. It was the one time weeks that were really killing me. Well, honestly, the three times weeks were too.
For the first three months of our relationship, Kay and I were having mind-blowing, best sex of my life every day, sometimes multiple times a day and for extended periods of time. She couldn't get enough. I thought I had found my dream girl. And then, BAM---no, that's not right--And then ...[crickets chirping].
Out of the blue, it just stopped. It wasn't a slow tapering off. We had been flying high, and then all of a sudden, we crash landed. It became a constant battle with Kay and me over the next year. I tried so hard to stay faithful, but temptations were everywhere and I'm a "loose lesbian on the loose."
Then Em came into my life. It started off as innocent flirting. I actually tried to resist her advances. At this point in time, I decided I didn't want to screw things up with Kay. I really love her and am otherwise extremely happy. My attempts at avoidance extended to the point that I was showing Kay all the messages between Em and me, just so I could keep myself out of trouble. But it didn't last. It wasn't long before the messages stayed between Em and me.
Flirtation for me is a like a taking a shot. I get a buzz. But soon I began to thirst. I started spending more and more time messaging Em, chatting with her, texting her. Each communication is like a small sip. Before long, I crave it. I began spending more and more time fantasizing about her. While I laid in bed trying to sleep. While I masturbated. Even while having sex with Kay. The lust had spread like a cancer. It was consuming all of my time. Time I should have been sleeping, working, spending with Kay.
I felt drained. Dehydrated. The sips were not satisfying me. I itched. I crawled in my skin. It was painful. I needed my drug. Not just a drink. I needed to consume all of her.
We made plans. Em and her girl (who was my best friend) lived an hour away and Em worked second shift. Jay was out of town for work. We lied. We said her battery died and she needed me to "jump her." I jumped her all right. We fucked for hours. So hard, the bed slide several feet across the room.
It was satisfying, but within a week, I wanted another hit. She had to come into town for a doctor's appointment. I met up with her and we got a hotel room.
The next time was at the house again. But that time we got caught in the act (see other post, "Caught in the Act).
Tonight, I found myself at a meeting for sex addicts. I wasn't ready to say outloud, "I'm Lolita and I'm a sex addict." Not at my first meeting anyhow.
I know it inside of me that I have a sex addiction. Admitting it, seriously admitting it outloud, is not as easy as thinking it or typing it. But I know it is going to be absolutely necessary if I am going to beat this.
Next week. Next meeting I will say it.
Am I Coming or Going?
I am about to go to my first sex addict support group this evening. Due to the rules, I'm not allowed to specifically affliate myself with a particular group in the media. I believe there is some underwritten law about genital mutilation for violation of the rule. And after someone was so kind as to adopt my clitoris, how could I allow their money to just be tossed away?
Is Three Really a Crowd?
Kay and I are trying to move on from my whole "caught with my pants down" incident, but Jay (my ex-best friend whose girlfriend I slept with) has so graciously taken it upon herself to announce to the world the wonderful news of my sexual union with Em. Jay had chosen to spread the good news through (what else?) Facebook. She wanted to make sure all of our family and friends received word that she caught me in bed with her girlfriend, posting it on several people's walls, including hers, mine, Em's, and at least one friend's that I know of. I'm so glad that she did that. I would sure hate for any one to be left out, and I was simply just too busy washing her girlfriend's cum off my body at the time to post it myself.
Jay has also been so kind as to give me unsolicited advice via text messages and e-mails encouraging me to kill myself. She even came up with not-so-creative suggestions on how exactly to carry it out. I guess that's what ex-friends are for. Thanks pal. Maybe I could send her a text message giving her unsolicited advice on how to eat out her girlfriend's pussy because, according to Em, Jay didn't know how. After all, that's what ex-friends are for.
It doesn't end there. She's also been telling straight out lies about me to Kay too. Fortunately she doesn't fall for it. Here's why I love my girl so much. Kay says she is actually having a hard time either not laughing at Jay or not going off on her. That's why I come back home to you every night, baby. I know you've got my back.
Now. Before anyone jumps on my back (which by the way, would be really hot), I know I'm getting what I "deserve." I've been a very, very bad girl.
But you know, Jay could have saved everyone a whole hell of a lot of trouble if she had just climbed into bed with us. I wouldn't have complained too terribly loud. I'm sure I would have gotten loud, but not from complaining.
Unfortunately, I guess she really thinks three is a crowd.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Amnesia
Once Kay got home from work, she just wanted to lay in bed and be held. I held tight against me. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew this was treading dangerous waters for me. I tried to keep my lust under control. We started kissing. Passionately. She bite my lip and nibbled my chin. My body writhed. I wanted her so bad, but there was nothing I could do. It was up to her. She needed to be ready and only she would know when that would be.
We made out for what seemed like forever, but was probably more like 20 minutes. She admitted that she was testing to see if she were ready to move forward or not. My heart pounded and I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. I imagine it's like a heroin addict having their drug sitting on the table in front of them, but their hands tied.
Torture. Absolute torture. But at the same time, it increased my arousal. It was a tease. It was like being handcuffed or strapped to the bed.
Finally Kay pulled me on top of her and we made love. I rode her, my pussy on hers. It felt absolutely amazing. I wanted to close my eyes and savor it, but I didn't. I kept my eyes locked on hers. I wanted her to know that I was thinking of her, that I was making love to her, and that I loved her. I wanted to reconnect with her. And I think it made the orgasm even more intense. We came together.
When you fuck, you don't look the person in the eyes. When you make love you do.
I felt so high afterward. Like nothing else in the world mattered, like no one else in the world could possibly tempt me. It was like it was only me and her, always had been, and always will be.
Considering all of this makes me feel even more like an addict. When I go without my drug, I start to have withdrawal. I shake and feel sick and anxious. I start to become irritable, angry, depressed, and if I don't get a hit, I have a breakdown. But once I do finally get that hit, I'm on this incredible high and all the pain melts away as if it never existed.
Sex causes amnesia.
We made out for what seemed like forever, but was probably more like 20 minutes. She admitted that she was testing to see if she were ready to move forward or not. My heart pounded and I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. I imagine it's like a heroin addict having their drug sitting on the table in front of them, but their hands tied.
Torture. Absolute torture. But at the same time, it increased my arousal. It was a tease. It was like being handcuffed or strapped to the bed.
Finally Kay pulled me on top of her and we made love. I rode her, my pussy on hers. It felt absolutely amazing. I wanted to close my eyes and savor it, but I didn't. I kept my eyes locked on hers. I wanted her to know that I was thinking of her, that I was making love to her, and that I loved her. I wanted to reconnect with her. And I think it made the orgasm even more intense. We came together.
When you fuck, you don't look the person in the eyes. When you make love you do.
I felt so high afterward. Like nothing else in the world mattered, like no one else in the world could possibly tempt me. It was like it was only me and her, always had been, and always will be.
Considering all of this makes me feel even more like an addict. When I go without my drug, I start to have withdrawal. I shake and feel sick and anxious. I start to become irritable, angry, depressed, and if I don't get a hit, I have a breakdown. But once I do finally get that hit, I'm on this incredible high and all the pain melts away as if it never existed.
Sex causes amnesia.
Losing Faith
I'm still not sure if I am ready to change. I don't know if I'm even capable of quitting my addiction. But what I do know is, if I don't do something, I'm going to lose everything.
My girlfriend called me on her lunch break and I told her how I've been looking for support groups and that I found one to go to tomorrow evening. I also admitted to her I'm struggling because I'm having an incredible, almost unbearable urge to have sex or to masturbate.
There is a coldness, through the phone line that I can feel. Her response was a quick reply of "go for it" in regard to the support group. I either have some sort of emotional./spiritual/mental connection to her or I know her well enough to know her thoughts. I know she wasn't happy about me being horny. I push her into divulging her feelings.
"I just don't know the extent that things will return to normal," Kay explains. "It was just yesterday."
Great. She doesn't know when she will want to have sex with me again. It's understandable and I'm not really surprised, but it's the very last thing a sex addict wants to hear. I feel myself wanting to give up right then and there. A part of my body wants to leave her, though everything in my heart and soul speaks differently.
I'm starting to wonder if it will be like it was with my ex all over again--where we try to fix it, but the cheating always comes back and puts a wedge between us. I don't want it to be over with Kay, but I'm losing faith in the relationship. No. That's not true. I'm losing faith in myself.
My girlfriend called me on her lunch break and I told her how I've been looking for support groups and that I found one to go to tomorrow evening. I also admitted to her I'm struggling because I'm having an incredible, almost unbearable urge to have sex or to masturbate.
There is a coldness, through the phone line that I can feel. Her response was a quick reply of "go for it" in regard to the support group. I either have some sort of emotional./spiritual/mental connection to her or I know her well enough to know her thoughts. I know she wasn't happy about me being horny. I push her into divulging her feelings.
"I just don't know the extent that things will return to normal," Kay explains. "It was just yesterday."
Great. She doesn't know when she will want to have sex with me again. It's understandable and I'm not really surprised, but it's the very last thing a sex addict wants to hear. I feel myself wanting to give up right then and there. A part of my body wants to leave her, though everything in my heart and soul speaks differently.
I'm starting to wonder if it will be like it was with my ex all over again--where we try to fix it, but the cheating always comes back and puts a wedge between us. I don't want it to be over with Kay, but I'm losing faith in the relationship. No. That's not true. I'm losing faith in myself.
Am I Really a Sexaholic?
The first question I want to know is, am I really a sexaholic? Do I really have a sexual addiction? So I took an online quiz called the SAST. The Sexual Addiction Screening Test. It can be found at http://www.sexhelp.com/sast.cfm
Here are my honest answers to the questions:
So, based on my answers, I don't think it is going to take an expert to guess what my results are. No drum roll is needed. Perhaps instead a "ba-dum-ching."
But just for fun, let's see what the "experts" determined. Results:
We have compared your answers with people who have been diagnosed with sex addiction. Your answers HAVE MET a score on basis of six the criteria that indicate sex addiction is present. To help you understand, the graphic below plots your score in relation to the scores of others.
So, in layman's terms: I'm a certified sex-crazed maniac.
For years I've joked around with friends about me being a nymphomaniac and we all laughed. But deep inside of me, I hid a secret. It was a secret I tried to keep hidden even from myself.
I wasn't ready to say, "My name is Lolita and I'm a sexaholic." It didn't seem real after just one test, so I took about a half dozen more. Each with the same result. "You are a freak!"
Now what? I guess I need help, but from where? I had tried therapy before several times and it ended up bad! I will go into that more later.
I start doing some research and come across support groups, including Sexaholics Anonymous and Sex Addicts Anonymous. They follow the same 12-step process of Alcoholics Anonymous, but just replace a couple words to apply it to sexual addiction.
Here I am, online, researching self-help, counseling, support groups, etc. Yet, all this talk of sex has got me unbearably horny at the moment to the point I almost feel sick. It certainly doesn't help that I fucked Em for so long and so hard yesterday that my whole body aches. The constant soreness is a reminder of the amazing sex, and every movement I make arouses me. It makes me want her. God, I am truly fucked up.
I'm starting to become terrified of the whole process. Am I really a sex addict? A sex drunk? Can I really quit my sexual behaviors and become sexually sober? Do I even really want to?
Will fixing the present mean I will have to deal with the past? I'm scared to address my childhood. I've tried therapy in the past and it ended up being more than I could handle.
I feel terribly alone right now. A support group could be the perfect answer for me, but at the same time, I'm afraid that I will just be tempted to sleep with the people in the group!
Here are my honest answers to the questions:
But just for fun, let's see what the "experts" determined. Results:
We have compared your answers with people who have been diagnosed with sex addiction. Your answers HAVE MET a score on basis of six the criteria that indicate sex addiction is present. To help you understand, the graphic below plots your score in relation to the scores of others.
  People! Do you see this graph? Do you know what this means? This chart is telling me that, not only am I a sex addict, I'm almost off the chart! I'm shocked. I'm terrified. I'm still in denial. In addition there are certain subscales to further confirm that a problem exists. The following patterns emerged in your answers: · A profile consistent with women who struggle with sexually compulsive behavior · A profile consistent with sex addicts who struggle with sexually compulsive behavior on-line The SAST measures key characteristics of addiction. The following dimensions of an addictive disorder appeared in your answers: · Preoccupation: obsessive thinking about sexual behavior, opportunities, and fantasies · Loss of control: inability to stop behavior despite commitments to self and others and despite problems caused by behavior · Relationship disturbance: sexual behavior has created significant relationship problems · Affect disturbance: significant depression, despair, or anxiety over sexual behavior |
So, in layman's terms: I'm a certified sex-crazed maniac.
For years I've joked around with friends about me being a nymphomaniac and we all laughed. But deep inside of me, I hid a secret. It was a secret I tried to keep hidden even from myself.
I wasn't ready to say, "My name is Lolita and I'm a sexaholic." It didn't seem real after just one test, so I took about a half dozen more. Each with the same result. "You are a freak!"
Now what? I guess I need help, but from where? I had tried therapy before several times and it ended up bad! I will go into that more later.
I start doing some research and come across support groups, including Sexaholics Anonymous and Sex Addicts Anonymous. They follow the same 12-step process of Alcoholics Anonymous, but just replace a couple words to apply it to sexual addiction.
Here I am, online, researching self-help, counseling, support groups, etc. Yet, all this talk of sex has got me unbearably horny at the moment to the point I almost feel sick. It certainly doesn't help that I fucked Em for so long and so hard yesterday that my whole body aches. The constant soreness is a reminder of the amazing sex, and every movement I make arouses me. It makes me want her. God, I am truly fucked up.
I'm starting to become terrified of the whole process. Am I really a sex addict? A sex drunk? Can I really quit my sexual behaviors and become sexually sober? Do I even really want to?
Will fixing the present mean I will have to deal with the past? I'm scared to address my childhood. I've tried therapy in the past and it ended up being more than I could handle.
I feel terribly alone right now. A support group could be the perfect answer for me, but at the same time, I'm afraid that I will just be tempted to sleep with the people in the group!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Caught in the Act
She was my best friend's girlfriend. Her car had broken down and she needed a ride to work. The perfect excuse to go see her. She was going through a rough time. We would hang out for a bit before she went to work. She could vent, I could listen. She could ask for help, I could give it.
This wasn't the first time. It was the third.
Her girlfriend, let's call her Jay, was out of town on business. She wasn't suppose to come home until that evening. I had been talking to Jay on the phone just as I pulled up in her driveway, verifying this.
I came in the house, and there's...let's call her Em....in a bathrobe. She reties the belt, and I ask her, "why are you bothering? It's coming off in a minute." She smiles shyly. There is a moment of awkward talk as we go into the bedroom. We both knew why I was there. It had been very well established. After all, it wasn't the first time. After all, we had planned this, fantasized it together through Facebook chat.
I kick off my shoes and empty my pockets, resting my wallet, cell phone, and car keys on the dresser Em shares with my best friend, Jay. We sit together on the edge of the bed.
"You're being shy this time," Em says to me.
"So are you," I respond.
Em laid down on the bed and I crawled up next to her. I immediately pulled her face towards mine and we began kissing, deeply, passionately. She climbed on top of me, her leg between the two of mine. Grinding against me. I pushed her over onto her back and climb on top of her, tugging at the belt of her robe.
"I told you not to bother," I teased.
She slipped out of it, and we threw it on the floor. I kissed down her stomach, my hands clutching her hips as they rose off the bed, beckoning for me. I continued southward, her moans became intense with anticipation. She gasped with pleasure as I slid my tongue from her vagina to her clit. Her sweet taste flooded my mouth. I gave her oral until my own lust had grown unbearable. I needed release. I pulled off my pants and underwear and climbed atop her. I kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself. Forcing her legs apart, I rode my pussy against hers. My cum dripping down, mixing with hers.
My phone rang. "Shit." It was Jay. She and Em apparently only had one house key between them and she wanted Em to leave the door unlocked. We thought she meant for that evening, after Em went to work.
I crawled back into bed with Em and we laughed at the situation. We breathed for a bit before we engaged again. We fucked for about a half hour longer, and then rested. I held her in my arms and nibbled on her shoulder as we talked and caught our breath. She joked about hiding me in her attic. "What does that make me? Anne Frank?" We laughed.
I craved her pussy again and I went back at it. I ate her out for a long time before I pulled myself up alongside her and she rubbed my clit with her fingers. I came multiple times. I lost count. She beammed with pure enjoyment of pleasing me. I come again, and then I heard her say, "playtime's over." She rolled off me and I looked up. My best friend. Her girlfriend. Jay stood there staring at us.
"Oh, shit." I said under my breath.
Em jumped up out of bed and ran to the bathroom and got in the shower. She left me there. Half naked in their bed. Jay glared at me.
"When did this start?" She yelled.
Inside I was laughing. I thought it was funny. I didn't feel guilt or shame at all. I avoided eye contact and talking because I was afraid I would laugh. I started to get dressed.
"When did this start?"
I grabbed my things.
"You're not going anywhere. When did this start?" she demanded. "Em, get out here."
I tried to reason with Jay, which was absolutely pointless. Of course she wasn't going to see it the way Em and I looked at it.
"We don't want a relationship together or anything. It's just sex. It's just two horny people getting together."
Big surprise. That didn't fly.
"When did it start?"
"About a month ago." Shit. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?
Em just left me to deal with it all by myself. I'd never had this happen before. I didn't know what to do or not do. I didn't know what to say or not say. I felt like I wanted to justify it. I wanted her to see it my way. That's it wasn't a big deal. It was JUST sex, right?
Finally I just left. Jay threw rocks at the car, "Get outta here!" She yelled like a mad woman.
I really couldn't help but think the whole situation was funny, and I wondered if I'm really a horrible person to think that way.
Then it was time to face Kay. She called me on her lunch break and I told her straight out what happened. She already knew. Jay had called her and told her. She assured me she wasn't going to break up with me, but we definitely needed to talk.
I called one of my friends. I thought she would understand. She was not happy with me.
Lets call me Lolita.
"Lolita. It's time you got help."
"It's just casual sex."
"Casual sex is fine when you're single. You're not single. You've been with (let's call her Kay) Kay for a long time."
This was the first time I felt a sense of shame. Not really for what I did, but because someone who I consider less mature than me, someone I have been a mentor to, is the one telling me what to do. And, I knew she was right.
That's what this blog is going to be about. It is going to be about: Me admitting I have a problem. Me talking about why I have this problem. Me getting help. Me dealing with this problem I have. And. Me overcoming it.
My name is "Lolita" and I'm a sexaholic.
This wasn't the first time. It was the third.
Her girlfriend, let's call her Jay, was out of town on business. She wasn't suppose to come home until that evening. I had been talking to Jay on the phone just as I pulled up in her driveway, verifying this.
I came in the house, and there's...let's call her Em....in a bathrobe. She reties the belt, and I ask her, "why are you bothering? It's coming off in a minute." She smiles shyly. There is a moment of awkward talk as we go into the bedroom. We both knew why I was there. It had been very well established. After all, it wasn't the first time. After all, we had planned this, fantasized it together through Facebook chat.
I kick off my shoes and empty my pockets, resting my wallet, cell phone, and car keys on the dresser Em shares with my best friend, Jay. We sit together on the edge of the bed.
"You're being shy this time," Em says to me.
"So are you," I respond.
Em laid down on the bed and I crawled up next to her. I immediately pulled her face towards mine and we began kissing, deeply, passionately. She climbed on top of me, her leg between the two of mine. Grinding against me. I pushed her over onto her back and climb on top of her, tugging at the belt of her robe.
"I told you not to bother," I teased.
She slipped out of it, and we threw it on the floor. I kissed down her stomach, my hands clutching her hips as they rose off the bed, beckoning for me. I continued southward, her moans became intense with anticipation. She gasped with pleasure as I slid my tongue from her vagina to her clit. Her sweet taste flooded my mouth. I gave her oral until my own lust had grown unbearable. I needed release. I pulled off my pants and underwear and climbed atop her. I kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself. Forcing her legs apart, I rode my pussy against hers. My cum dripping down, mixing with hers.
My phone rang. "Shit." It was Jay. She and Em apparently only had one house key between them and she wanted Em to leave the door unlocked. We thought she meant for that evening, after Em went to work.
I crawled back into bed with Em and we laughed at the situation. We breathed for a bit before we engaged again. We fucked for about a half hour longer, and then rested. I held her in my arms and nibbled on her shoulder as we talked and caught our breath. She joked about hiding me in her attic. "What does that make me? Anne Frank?" We laughed.
I craved her pussy again and I went back at it. I ate her out for a long time before I pulled myself up alongside her and she rubbed my clit with her fingers. I came multiple times. I lost count. She beammed with pure enjoyment of pleasing me. I come again, and then I heard her say, "playtime's over." She rolled off me and I looked up. My best friend. Her girlfriend. Jay stood there staring at us.
"Oh, shit." I said under my breath.
Em jumped up out of bed and ran to the bathroom and got in the shower. She left me there. Half naked in their bed. Jay glared at me.
"When did this start?" She yelled.
Inside I was laughing. I thought it was funny. I didn't feel guilt or shame at all. I avoided eye contact and talking because I was afraid I would laugh. I started to get dressed.
"When did this start?"
I grabbed my things.
"You're not going anywhere. When did this start?" she demanded. "Em, get out here."
I tried to reason with Jay, which was absolutely pointless. Of course she wasn't going to see it the way Em and I looked at it.
"We don't want a relationship together or anything. It's just sex. It's just two horny people getting together."
Big surprise. That didn't fly.
"When did it start?"
"About a month ago." Shit. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?
Em just left me to deal with it all by myself. I'd never had this happen before. I didn't know what to do or not do. I didn't know what to say or not say. I felt like I wanted to justify it. I wanted her to see it my way. That's it wasn't a big deal. It was JUST sex, right?
Finally I just left. Jay threw rocks at the car, "Get outta here!" She yelled like a mad woman.
I really couldn't help but think the whole situation was funny, and I wondered if I'm really a horrible person to think that way.
Then it was time to face Kay. She called me on her lunch break and I told her straight out what happened. She already knew. Jay had called her and told her. She assured me she wasn't going to break up with me, but we definitely needed to talk.
I called one of my friends. I thought she would understand. She was not happy with me.
Lets call me Lolita.
"Lolita. It's time you got help."
"It's just casual sex."
"Casual sex is fine when you're single. You're not single. You've been with (let's call her Kay) Kay for a long time."
This was the first time I felt a sense of shame. Not really for what I did, but because someone who I consider less mature than me, someone I have been a mentor to, is the one telling me what to do. And, I knew she was right.
That's what this blog is going to be about. It is going to be about: Me admitting I have a problem. Me talking about why I have this problem. Me getting help. Me dealing with this problem I have. And. Me overcoming it.
My name is "Lolita" and I'm a sexaholic.
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