My First Step

My earliest recollection of sexual experience is hard to give a definitive age to.  I know it could have been as early as three, but was definitely not any older than seven.  I was a victim of incest that encompassed anywhere from seven to ten years of my life.

I also was having sex with my female friends with the onset, again, around three to seven years old.  That continued with four or five female friends until I was around the age of eleven.  I also discovered masturbation around seven years old.

All of these behaviors, the incest, the sex with my friends, and the masturbation were taking place on a fairly consistent basis.

Masturbation became a sexual release, a relief from boredom, and an escape from feelings of depression and emotional pain.  At times, masturbation in the presence of another was a way for me to avoid having to engage in sexual contact with them.  Often times, I would masturbate to the point of exhaustion or until I simply could not feel anything anymore.  My body would be sore for days after.

Throughout my life, I constantly had to be in a relationship with someone, since elementary school.  I always had to have someone to hold my hand, make-out with, or have sex with.  If the person who was supposed to be my significant other wasn’t available, I found someone who was.  It didn’t matter whether I thought they were attractive or not.  It didn’t matter if my family or friends approved.  All that mattered to me was that they were there.  All that mattered was that I felt loved or attractive or comforted.

It is safe to say that I have cheated in every relationship I have ever had, and sometimes carried on with as many as three relationships at the same time.

I've gone through relationships like water.

I used the high that I got from intimacy and/or flirting to make me feel better about myself because really I despised myself.  I measured my self-worth by whether someone thought I was attractive or wanted me romantically.  All ready at 11 years old, the boys were starting to refer to me as “desperate.”

I grew up Mormon.  The Mormon Church has very strict guidelines in regards to sex.  Absolutely no sexual contact outside of marriage and no masturbation were allowed.  The guilt and shame I felt were overwhelming.  I spent many hours on my knees begging for forgiveness, pleading for the strength to overcome the temptations to act out.  I felt alone and lost in utter darkness.  I made promise after promise to God that I would never act out again.  But I did, over and over.  Countless times I tried to quit and countless times I failed.

I became suicidal at a very young age, again, at an elementary school age.  Even making attempts.

During some of my sexually traumatic experiences as a child, I started dissociating myself.  I shut myself down to what was happening to me so I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of it.  This became a problem.  When I separated from my body, I left myself more vulnerable to lust.  At times it was like my soul and my conscience were  ripped out of me and I became nothing more than a vessel filled with lust.  I had lost all sense of what was appropriate and what was not.  Nothing mattered other than fulfilling my sexual desires.  As much as I wanted to, I felt like I couldn’t stop what was happening.

There were times I masturbated while driving.  I have had sex in public places:  The post office, clubs, public restrooms, cars, at school in the stairway.  At friend's houses without their permission or knowledge.

I had sex with people who I didn’t even like.  I lowered my standards.  I often objectified women.  I thought as every friend was an opportunity.  I flirted and made dirty jokes all the time hoping for attention, in hopes to be lusted after.

Any time someone smiled at me, was friendly to me, I twisted it in my head, believing that they lusted for me.

I ruined many friendships from my lust and from pursuing them, which in turn pushed them away.  I lost friendships because of my jealousy at the attention they were giving to someone else.­ I even destroyed a friendship because I slept with my best friend’s girlfriend.

When I was 16 years old, I started dating a guy.  I was also dating two other guys at the time.  I eventually broke up with the other two to concentrate on this new relationship.  At first I really liked him because he was always there for me.  Soon it got to be too much.  He really was always there.  I couldn’t get him to leave me alone.  I would try and break up with him and he just wouldn’t leave.  He had my family and other people at church fooled and they all liked him and they pushed me into staying with him.  Eventually they pushed me into marrying him at 19 years old.  I was just too emotionally weak to fight the pressure.

Shortly after marrying him, I knew I was gay.  I tried really hard to fight it.  I fasted and prayed constantly to be “healed.”  The shame and guilt and pain that I was feeling in my life eventually lead me to start cutting myself.

I began flirting with girls all the time.  Even my brother's girlfriends.  I was consumed with lust, fantasizing all the time.  I tried everything to get girls' attentions, to the point that I tried to get them to pity me by unloading all my problems on them.

I began buying and renting lesbian movies and watching them while my husband was at work.  I started engaging in online relationships with other girls.  I would estimate that I spent approximately 25 hours a week engaging in flirting, cybersex, watching movies, masturbating, and simply being consumed with lust.

My husband was extremely physically, emotionally, and sexually abusive, so after five years I left him.

I immediately ended up in a relationship with a woman.  Once I actually got into a relationship with a woman, I felt absolutely no shame or guilt about it.  It felt very natural to me and I was very happy.  We were very happy for quite awhile as she kept me sexually satisfied, but after the honeymoon phase started to wear off, she stopped wanting sex with me as often.  My lust resurfaced and I returned to my old behaviors; again spending around 25 hours a week engaging in flirting, cybersex, masturbating, etc.

I was acting out a lot of my sexual behaviors on my work computer and during my work hours.  I was putting my job in jeopardy.  This was especially problematic because my job is production-based pay.  Because of my time-consuming sexual behaviors, I lost income.  I began charging up credit cards to pay the bills.  I also began buying things compulsively to compensate for the feelings of rejection I had because my partner at the time was not able to meet my insatiable emotional and sexual desires.

I ended up cheating on her and after five years together, I eventually left her for another woman.  That relationship didn’t last long and I ended up tens of thousands of dollars in debt, kicked out of the house, all alone, with no furniture, nowhere to live, no car, and two dogs to feed.

What else to do but find another relationship? So immediately put my efforts into that.  It was taking up time that I should have been devoting to my studies and ended up leading me to get a C in a class when normally I’m a straight A student.

About two years ago I met my current partner, "Kay".  Things started out great.  We were having sex every day, sometimes multiple times a day.  It seemed like I had found the perfect person for me; however, she also knew how easy I was.  She knew that I could never say to sex, and she used it to manipulate me.  She took advantage of me.

I really wasn't ready to commit to a new relationship, and she used sex to keep grasp of me.  If I tried to break it off with her, she used sex to suck me back in.  Where I was living, I wasn't suppose to have guests and sometimes I just wanted space.  I would ask her to go home at night, but she didn't want to.  She would seduce me so I would let her spend the night.

In time, I did fall in love with Kay.  But one day, my ex shows up at the door.  She wanted to see the dogs and "talk."  I tried to resist her, but she pushed me to sex.  I couldn’t say no.  I wanted to.  I tried to, but I just couldn’t.  I ended up crying in the middle of it because I was ashamed of my weakness and for cheating on my current partner.  It made me feel violated.  It made me suicidal.

My partner, Kay was able to forgive me; however, about a month later, a friend of mine expressed an interest in me.  We were flirting back and forth.  But this friend was also someone my best friend, "Jay," was pursuing but had been rejected by.  Well, Jay found out that this girl and I were flirting around and she was angry and felt betrayed by me.  She went almost a year without talking to me and of course my partner found out.  I had hurt her again, but she forgave me again.

Soon the sex with my partner, Kay, was no longer every day.  This of course became a problem for me.  I was pressuring her for it.  The more I asked for it, the more I pushed her away and the worse it made the situation.  It became a constant, almost weekly fight for us.  I began lusting again and engaging in all my old behaviors, spending numerous hours online.

After some time, my old best friend Jay came back into my life.  And you can read my first post to find out what happened in regard to that.  The short version, I ended up in bed with her girlfiend, and eventually we ended up getting caught by Jay.

I have come to realize that I really have become powerless over sex and lust.  I don't have the strength to say "no," even though at times I have really, truly wanted to.  My life has become unmanageable.  My lust and sexual addiction has disrupted my life, the life of my family and friends, my career, and my relationships with my significant others.

I admit that I am addicted to lust and am a sex addict.  I admit that I need help and I cannot do it alone.

Kay Wrote Me This Letter

Dear Lolita:

I'm still hurting. I think you broke my heart. I haven't healed.

There are times where it doesn't hurt, but the times it does, it hurts very bad.

I still love you and feel that you still love me, but we haven't healed.

I'm hurt that you had sex with her. Not just sex, but good sex.

The fact that you orgasmed with her hurts me tremendously. She knows you. She knows what you like. She knows how you look and feel. She knows how you sound.

It hurts that you shared the experience with someone else.

The rush of flirting, the excitement of the first kiss.

It hurts me that I'm not your last first.

I don't want you to read this and think I'll never be okay. Please don't give up on me. The thought of losing you terrifies me.

I'm giving this letter to you because it needs to be said and I need you to know. I think it may be part of the healing process.

Please know that I love you and I don't want to lose you.

My heart is hurting, but it's still yours.

Love,

Kay

What really upsets me about this is that I don't feel as bad as I think I should.  I'm still lusting over other girls.  I'm still fantasizing.  I haven't learned.  Will I ever learn?

Hypomania?

I had my SA meeting tonight.  I rode my motorcycle there as I usually do.  Normally I am a very safe rider.  I obey the speed limits and am very defensive in my riding.  This evening I found myself having an overwhelming desire to just gun it.  I majorally had a need for speed, and I did end up exceeding the legal limits for the area I was riding in.

With this feeling and the fact that I have been so restless and hypersexual, I'm starting to think I may be experiencing some hypomania associated with my bipolar disorder.

For those of you who don't know much about bipolar disorder:  Bipolar disorder is a characterized by mood swings.  The individual at time experiences extreme highs known as mania and other times will experience extreme lows, known as depression.  Mania symptoms include impulsivity, decreased need for sleep, restlessness, rapid/pressured speech, grandiosity, spending sprees, reckless behavior, and hypersexuality.  Hypomania is experiencing a less severe level of mania.

I am definitely experiencing restlessness, reckless behavior, and hypersexuality.

This could mean that I need an increase in my medication, specifically Lamictal.  Lamictal is an anti-epileptic medication that was discovered to be a successful mood stabilizer for individuals with bipolar disorder.  I began the medication about seven years ago and have had excellent results with it.  I have had to have a few increases across the years.  It has been about four years since my last adjustment.  It could be time.

The thought of medication upward titration scares me.

Is the medication losing its effectiveness?  Will it eventually completely lose it?  If so, then what?  Will I be able to find a new medication that will work for me?  Will it have side effects?  Or will I begin trial after unsuccessful trial, ending up losing control of moods like is often the case with individuals with bipolar disorder?

It is a very scary prospect for me.  I have been so healthy and stable in regard to my bipolar disorder for many years.

I have seen family and friends suffer greatly from their bipolar disorder.  I don't want that to be me.

Getting so much better all the time.

I played Beatles rock band for about an hour and a half. Feeling so much better. I'm so excited that I found a release.  And it didn't mean losing my sobriety.

I had another temptation crop up right after, however. It didn't cause me to become aroused though, but it could have turned that quick.

They are doing this thing on facebook where females are suppose to put in their status where they like to put their purse/handbag, and they are suppose to make it sound sexual.

One of the my ex-fuck friends put as hers "on the bedroom floor."

One time she and I had sex while I was on a conference call for work.  So I responded, "when on a conference call?" And she "liked" my comment.

A flag immediately pops up for me, like an erection.

Does this mean she just likes the memory?  Or would she like to re-live it?

My temptation is wanting to ask her.  Or to play off it to test the waters. But I know I will find myself treading in dangerous waters if I do.

I just got relief and am feeling 95% better, I don't want to go back to that.

But it is so tempting. She is just so hot!  She reminds me of Natalie Portman, who is, of course, sexy. She's this cute little Cuban thang that I can pick up and she wraps her legs around me.

Okay, I have got to stop right there.

But thankfully, I found an outlet to help me feel better.  Something other than sex or lust.

And It held me off until Kay got home.

Yes.  The three hours finally passed.

Kay came home.

And now I feel so very much better.

Three Hours to Go

Having a tough morning so far. I'm really horny. The temptation to act out is burning inside of me, bubbling like lava, rising to the surface.

If someone was available to act out with, I honestly would end give in.

I'm not much of a masturbator. Not anymore any way. I don't really care for it.  Mostly because it just makes me even more horny.  And once I start, it's hard for me to stop. I'm insatiable. What often happens is that I just do it until I get so exhausted that I fall asleep. Then by the time I wake up, the horniness has lessened to at least a less severe degree.

I don't have time for a nap right now.

I just realized the failed logic of this statement. I don't think I have time for a nap, but if I had someone available to fuck right now, I apparently would have time for that?

When I was a kid, I seriously would masturbate for an hour. I would do it until it got to the point where I was numb and just couldn't feel anything anymore. Old habits are hard to break. And, needless to say, I have a really strong right hand, wrist, and forearm.

But even the temptation to masturbate is growing almost unbearably.

I have this heaviness in my chest, making it difficult to concentrate, when I'm suppose to be working.

I've done some mild flirting with a co-worker and a bit on Facebook. It's so hard not to. It's like taking puffs off a cigarette. At least for me. I'm not a smoker, so when I do a drag, I get a buzz from it.  I get a buzz from flirting.

I'm so tempted to look at craigslist.


I need a little black book for booty calls. No.

No I don't.

I need to get better. I need to overcome this illness.

My leg is bouncing again.  So much pent up energy.

And Kay won't be off work for another three hours. Can I survive it?

Of course I can, but it's going to be miserable.

I messaged Kay. I had to do something. I'm a wreck, sitting here crying. I just need to release. I just need to come, but then I give up my sobriety.

I have to wait until she gets home.  But three hours?

That's like holding urine for three hours when you already feel like you're going to burst.

Three hours?

That's like waiting three hours to eat, when you've already gone 48 hours without food.

Three hours?

It's like going without water when it's 100 degrees outside.

Can you understand?  Can anyone understand what it's like?

I have three hours to go.

Make Love, Not War

Today has been a tough day for me so far. I had dreams last night about the sexual perpetrators from my childhood, and then just about sex and masturbation in general. It was hard not to wake up and masturbate. Of course, I woke up aroused. Obviously, I woke up wet. Unfortunately, my girlfriend was sound asleep and does not appreciate being woken up for sex.  Unfortunately, masturbation is a violation of "sexual sobriety."

Then in my social psychology class today we were talking about attraction. Our professor showed a clip from Four Weddings and a Funeral.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_uKO6LIWLA

This clip talks about how many sexual partners the character played by Andie MacDowell has had, as well as a little bit of the details of the sexual relationship with each of her partners. This sort of thing is hard to hear without causing you to think about your own sexual experiences. I also began to fantasize. In the movie she has had over 30 sexual partners.  Suddenly I feel so dwarfed. I haven't had even close to that, and it makes me feel competitive all of a sudden.

We also talked about the Bonobo chimps and how they have a make love, not war attitude.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KagyO9zS_ro

(gets "interesting" around 2:45)

Basically, the chimps are constantly performing sexual favors for one another. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm definitely NOT thinking about having sex with a chimp. It just makes me curious about the lifestyle. The idea of living in a community where everyone performs sexual favors for one another and it becomes a conflict resolution.

My childhood often consisted of me resolving internal conflicts with masturbation.  Taking my mind off what was bothering me.  Relieving stress or anxiety.  Or making me feel good when I felt sad or depressed.

It has grown into a coping mechanism.

Sex.  Orgasms.  They are part of my antidepressant regimen..

Needless to say, I am definitely sexually aroused right now. It's hard for me to shake the feelings. It's so tempting to act out.

Examples of acting out for me would entail, masturbating, looking up girl-seeking-girl ads on craigslist, flirting through Facebook or text messages, trying to set up a hookup with someone, or even seducing my girlfriend.  The latter of which, I certainly am going to try to when she and I get home from school today.

Wish me luck.

Catharsis

Oh. My. God!  Can't they just leave us alone?

Em forwarded the last couple of e-mails I sent her to Kay.

Why? Why must Jay and Em continue to try and hurt us. Kay and I are trying to move forward, to heal, and yet they keep putting road blocks in our way.

I understand it, but at the same time, I don't.

At least I had shared with Kay the most recent e-mail (the one where I said goodbye to Em), and Kay also knew of the last couple--where I was just checking in on Em because I was worried about her. 

Kay replied to Em, asking "Why did you send me this?"

And I sent Em a text. I don't know if she got it or not because she didn't respond to it. I said something to the effect that "I wish you nothing but the best. But Kay knew about the e-mails anyway. We are trying to heal and move forward, please stop trying to hurt us. I have done nothing but try to be nice and respectful toward you, please do the same toward me. Again, the offers stands, that if there is anything I can do to help you, I'm here and I wish you nothing but happiness and success. Take care of yourself"

Em sent a response to Kay, "apparently you don't realize that Lolita sent these to me. Please tell her to stop trying to contact me"

It was great though because Kay went off on Em, saying, "Apparently you don't realize that I knew about these e-mails. Lolita tells me things. Tell Jay to quit telling Lolita to kill herself. If you want to be hypocritical, go right ahead, but leave us alone. Quit being such a bitch."

Ha! I love it! Thanks baby. I adore you.

After Em sent the second e-mail I text her again and said, "I don't understand where this hatred toward me came from. You had been nice, and then out of the blue-you shut me out, and now this. I'm sorry if I said something that upset you. I certainly did not intend to. I never would have done anything intentionally. I don't want to cause you any more trouble, please don't cause me any more. Let's just let all this go and move forward. Again, I wish you nothing but happiness."
It hurt so bad.  Kay and me both. They way we are being treated.

But I want to be the bigger, better person.  That is why I tried to be as respectful as possible.  But I wrote a therapeutic letter to Jay, which I of course did not send.

What the fuck do you want? Do you really want me to off myself? Do you REALLY want me to put a fucking bullet in my head?

How would that make you feel? Would that make you feel better? Would my blood on your hands help you sleep at night? Would it really even the score so you can feel justice has been served? Would my dead body be just want you need to move on with your life and be happy?

What kind of sick fuck wants that? What kind of person would find peace in one's death, MY death?

Since YOU so badly want me to kill myself, how about I come into your house, look you in the face, and blow my fucking head off right there in front of you?

And that way, my blood truly can be on your hands, and the spray on your face, and my brains on your wall. Then you can be happy, right? Then you can sleep peacefully, right? And you and Mary can live happily ever after, right? After all, why else would you suggest I do it?

You want to know a secret? It would actually give me great, great pleasure to fulfill your wish. To kill myself. Right there in front of you. As you lie on your bed. And before I do, I will tell you how Em told me that I know her pussy better than you do and that I give her REALLY good sex "therapy." And that she giggles and smiles widely after I come, because she "enjoys making me feel good."

And then, I will put that gun up to my head, and pull the trigger, and blow my fucking head off, right there.

That way, old friend, you can have so many great memories of me and our "friendship."

You can live the rest of your life with the image deeply engraved in your mind, of when you walked in on your girlfriend's naked body laying across mine. Seeing her head on my chest, her fingers on my clit, and the smile of pure enjoyment on both of our faces.

And you have the memory of her voice moaning with excitement as she knew she was bringing me closer and closer to the brink of an orgasm. And you can hear my voice as I tell her "yes, fuck yes, I'm coming."

Yes, the image of YOUR girlfriend, fucking ME, in YOUR bed.

Oh, poor thing. That hurts. It must hurt so bad.

But it's okay, you can feel better now, because you have a new memory.

You have a new vision engraved into your sad, sad brain.

You have the image of me, with a gun to my head. You will forever hear the echo of the gun as it exploded a bullet into my head. You will hear, Em's voice screaming. As MY blood spills onto YOUR bed.

Now, sleep old friend. Go to sleep with those images. Wouldn't that make you feel better? Wouldn't that bring peace to your poor, tortured soul? To your sad, sick, pathetic, self.

Wow. It feels even better transcribing it from paper onto the computer. I get such great pleasure from the fantasy. Oh, the irony.

I went to the support group meeting tonight and it went well. I needed it after everything that happened today.

As much as the pain I've been going through sucks, the meeting reminded me that it was necessary. Kay and I both have wanted to just shut the memory off. Not think about it or deal with it. That may be just fine for Kay, but I absolutely CANNOT do that. I have to remember the pain that I have caused myself and her and others because that will be my deterrent. That will be the motivation I need to stay sexually sober.