Month: December 2021

Hi, I’m Jacob and I’m a grateful, recovering sex addict.

In my last post, I shared my experience of attending a 12-Step meeting for the first time. It was a scary and uncertain first step, but I am so glad I took it.

As I mentioned last time, I found an environment of acceptance and non-judgment. With all of the stigma surrounding sex addiction – both in the real world and that internal to me – I didn’t think I’d ever feel accepted anywhere. But the 12-Step environment is engineered to be that way.

You’ve probably seen or read the 12-Steps before, be they applied to alcoholics, overeaters, workaholics or something similar. For sex addicts, we just replace “alcohol” with “sex” in the verbiage. But it’s the same program that’s been around since the 1930s.

The meetings follow the same ritual. We read aloud prepared readings with names like “The Problem”,“The Twelve Signs of Sexual Addiction”, “The Twelve Steps”, “The Solution”, “The Twelve Promises” and “The Twelve Signs of Recovery”. These very clearly define the problem we all face, the journey we are on and the promises that recovery holds. And we read them at every meeting – just like clockwork.

I think the main reason for the predictability and repetition is that we all need to be reminded of what we’re dealing with. And we need to have these steps, signs and promises programmed into our brains to replace the dysfunctional crap that’s been in them for so long.

We also share what’s going on in our heads, in our emotions and in our lives. If someone is struggling to maintain their sobriety, the group is there to listen and encourage. Never to judge.

We celebrate milestones in recovery. We applaud those who have reached one day of sobriety. Or a week. Or a month. Or two or three. Or a full year – or more. Any reason to celebrate progress in the journey to recovery.

I find myself looking forward to going to meetings … to be in a roomful of ADDICTS, no less! How crazy is that. I’m not sure, but it’s a better kind of crazy than where I’ve been.

I leave every meeting a little stronger, a little more committed and a little more whole than I was when I arrived. I draw strength from the other guys, whether they’ve had a good week or an awful one. We are reminded that we are not alone.

That’s my story for now. If you, like me, are struggling with addiction, I hope that you’ll seek help. It’s a hard thing to do. But don’t let the addict keep the real you from reaching out.

There’s help and hope – just reach for it.

Jacob The Addict (jacobtheaddict@gmail.com)

Hi, I’m Jacob, a grateful, recovering sex addict. But you should know that by now.

When I first started therapy for my addiction, my therapist, Hank (not his real name), told me that he wanted me to attend 12-step meetings several times a week, in addition to individual and group therapy.

I immediately thought “Well, I’m better than that. Surely *I* don’t need to do a 12-step program.” Or maybe I should say: “My addict says I’m better than that …” Because the addict in me tells me all kinds of things that aren’t true.

I put off going to meetings for what seemed like a long time – probably two months. I looked around to see what 12-step programs were available in my area, but never would commit to attending a meeting.

I’m not sure what got me to the starting block, but I found a group that met via Zoom at a time that worked for me – or at least a time where I could not make sufficient excuses not to attend. Now, my house can be a bit busy sometimes and I certainly didn’t want anyone to overhear what I was involved in, so I took my headphones and my laptop out to the garage and joined the meeting online.

I had zero idea of what to expect. Certainly not that any meeting of this particular program that has a first-timer in attendance immediately becomes a newcomer meeting.

In a newcomer meeting, everyone tells their story of addiction and where they are in recovery … in detail … using words that aren’t used in polite company … calling private/secret things by their actual names … using words like “masturbation”, “stalking”, “prostitute” and “prison”.

To be completely honest (something I’m working hard to be), I was a bit shocked by some of the stories I heard. There were stories of time served in prison as a result of bad choices. Some had lost their spouses and/or families due to their actions. Others had been so deep in their addictions that they had lost jobs. Stories of obsession with sexual partners that spiraled out of control in various ways.

Yet, despite the great variation in the outcomes in the stories that were shared, the similarities were remarkable. All of us (yes, me included) struggled through life as “incomplete” people, with feelings of being “less than” or “worthless”. All had spent their lives trying to fill the emptiness they felt inside … with something … ANYTHING. The classic setup for addiction.

It took me a while to realize it, but the purpose of those disclosures was not to shock anyone, but to put the newcomer (me) at as much ease as possible. No matter what my story might be, I could rest easy that it was no worse than others present. A secondary purpose was to help me see that this was a judgment-free zone.

More on this later, but for now I’ll say it didn’t take long for me to realize that this was exactly where I needed to be. And that these people would become my friends and fellow travelers on an uncertain journey.

Until next time,

Jacob the Addict (jacobtheaddict@gmail.com)

Hi, I’m Jacob, a grateful, recovering sex addict. My sobriety date is unchanged since my last post.

In my first post, I told you a little bit about myself to orient you to what sex addiction looks like. Next I wrote about some of the places I’ve been in my life and how screwed-up they look in the rear-view mirror.

Today, I want you to see that I am Every Man.

I’m not saying that every man is a sex addict or destined to become one, but I’ll assert that there are more men (and women) out there who ARE sex addicts than there are who REALIZE they are.

Yes, I’m saying that there are sex addicts who don’t know they are sex addicts. I was one for decades before someone helped me see that I was.

So, here’s what Jacob is:

• A grateful, recovering sex addict.
• A life-long Christian (there you go judging me again).
• A highly successful businessman.
• A former church leader.
• A happily married man (though not so happy as I thought I was – my fault, not Amy’s).
• A dedicated Dad.
• A supportive son.
• A fairly decent brother.

I am:

• The nicely dressed man in the grocery store.
• The dad playing catch with his son in the front yard.
• The husband with his wife at dinner in a local restaurant.
• The dad at the symphony with his daughter.
• The guy at the local restaurant eating breakfast with his guy friends.
• The man seated next to you on the airplane.
• The guy in line at Starbucks.
• The man on the other end of the church pew from you on Sunday morning.
• The businessman eating dinner alone in the hotel restaurant.
• And the guy who is secretly addicted to pornography and lives in a world of private sexual fantasies …
• The guy who now attends 12-step meetings with his sex addict friends, guys who look awfully familiar.

What I am not:

• A pedophile
• A flasher
• A “Peeping Tom”
• A sexual predator
• A “john”

I say none of the previous to imply that I’m inherently better than those who might be those things. I am certainly not. I am first and foremost a sinner saved only by the grace of God. And I am a sex addict.

Friends, I wish I had known what I was dealing with years ago. Had I known, I could have sought help, begun recovery and spared a LOT of people a LOT of pain.

I write this in hopes that you’ll take a long hard look at your life and ask yourself if there are things you don’t want ANYBODY to know about you. That alone doesn’t make you an addict. But secret compartments in your life should be a red flag.

I hope you’ll keep coming back here – especially if any of what I’ve said hits close to home. If you are dealing with addiction, there is help and hope. I’m living proof of that.

I’m five months into my recovery – recovery from something I didn’t even realize five months ago.

Jacob The Addict (jacobtheaddict@gmail.com)

Hi, I’m Jacob, a grateful, recovering sex addict. My sobriety date is unchanged since my last post.

I have no desire to overburden you with every detail from my addictive past. However, there are a few more vignettes that are worth sharing to round out my addictive behavior as it was prior to my marriage to Amy.

As I approached 30, my biological clock began to tick loudly. I never thought I’d feel compelled to settle down just because I reached a certain age, but I did.

At that precise moment, a beautiful young lady named Marsha (not her real name) appeared at my church and I immediately began to pursue her. It wasn’t a predator/prey kind of thing, but what seemed like a normal interest between a guy and a pretty young lady. However, it was probably only the second date with Marsha that I found myself in bed with her. She seemed truly interested in me and I felt loved and accepted. I was hooked.

We immediately developed a full-on sexual relationship. I felt fulfilled and invigorated. We were engaged to be married within a month and set a wedding date six months later. She moved into my place, but kept hers as a cover. I had finally found the one who completed me and would fill my needs forever.

Things were fantastic until she realized that I was truly hooked. She had a big diamond ring on her finger and a fiancé who was a rising star in his organization. So, in her mind, she was set for life. Simultaneously, her interest in sex began to taper off. I felt empty and abandoned. She couldn’t possibly love me and withhold sex from me, could she? I maintained some level of dignity, but practically groveled before her to get sex. Every thought was about getting her to have sex with me.

I knew that everything about what I was doing was wrong, but my thinking was so convoluted that I was trying to make it right. I asked God to look at my situation (living with a woman I was not married to, in a sexual relationship with her, and misleading friends and family about both) and BLESS IT. After all, we were GOING to get married.

Surely God could overlook my current sin, look forward a few months to when Marsha and I would stand at the altar to tie the knot, then retroactively make my sinful behavior OK. As I write that now, I realize how screwed up I was, but it made sense to me at the time.

It didn’t take long before I realized that I was in a hopeless situation with Marsha. This was not a healthy relationship for me in ANY way, since it was based SOLELY on sex, but I saw no way out. How do you tell all those friends and family that you’ve invited to the wedding that it ain’t happening? The embarrassment alone would kill me. I had ruined my life.

With the help of several friends who loved me in spite of myself, I broke the engagement and ended my relationship with Marsha. I walked down the aisle at my church the next Sunday and confessed my “sin”. Not my “sins”, mind you (see the list above), only that I had “sinned”. That way I made it right with God but no one had to know what a screwed up mess I was.

Having narrowly escaped a terrifying form of emotional death, I resolved to never do it again. Only to repeat much of the same story with another young woman a few months later.

Now that I’ve started recovery, I can look back and see just how screwed up I was.

For me the equation was simple: SEX = ACCEPTANCE

And so was the converse: NO SEX = REJECTION

I’m still fighting those inner feelings in recovery, but at least now I can own them and face them head-on. And like many things in life, just knowing is half the battle (OK, maybe less than half, but still a good portion of it).

My prayer is that someone reading this might come to realize that they are fighting the same battle and get a good head start.

Hope to see you again soon,

Jacob The Addict (jacobtheaddict@gmail.com)

Hi, I’m Jacob and I’m a sex addict. I’ve been sober for about five months.

Today, I want to share a bit of background.

I was born as the last child in a typical American family. My father was born dirt-poor but was successful in his work and a rising star in his company. My mother was all but a debutante and came from a rather well-off family. They were happily married, for the most part anyway.

I’m still “unpacking” my family and upbringing, but for now I’ll just say that even though my family was seemingly “normal”, I came away lacking intimacy, connection and nurturing. While I was the family “Golden Child”, most of the time I felt like a complete failure. There was a big hole inside of me, an emptiness that needed filling (spoiler alert: that’s a huge factor in addiction).

When I started dating, my relationships were pretty normal, I guess, but I quickly bored with them. Just when I would get to know a young lady, I would pull away. I was always looking for something different or better.

In mid-college, my relationships turned sexual. Not all of them were overtly sexual, but inside I always hoped they would become so. Sexual intimacy would fill my needs (at least I thought so) for a brief period, followed immediately by intense shame. That shame would eventually pass, the emptiness would return and I’d seek sexual contact again.

Once out of college, my search for something to fill my emptiness continued. Even though I was in church three times a week, spirituality never filled the void (again, don’t judge me – I sure thought I was spiritual). I was always searching for a new relationship to make me whole.

I visited a friend and his wife in another city and they set me up with a gal with whom I had a two-night stand. I barely remember her first name, let alone anything else about her. She wasn’t someone I would ever have been interested in outside of the bedroom. There was an intense thrill followed immediately by the worst shame I’d ever felt. Thrill, shame, pulling away, then the dog returns to his vomit. Those two days were a microcosm of my life in general.

Lest you think I had hundreds of partners, let me say I may have been sexual with about a dozen women, and wished I could have been with several more. As if that somehow makes a difference. As if those who have more than a dozen partners are worse than I am. No, it doesn’t matter. I left a dozen or more victims of sexual addiction behind me. That’s what matters.

There’s more background to share later, but here’s what looking back at my life has shown me so far.

I was looking for sexual relationships to fill my emptiness. For sexual contact to provide the intimacy and nurturing I desperately needed. If a woman would be sexual with me, then she could stand to be with me, at least for a brief time, and I would be whole. Afterwards, the shame would set in and again I was worthless or “less than” – even more so than before. And then the pain of that shame would require “medication” and lead to more of the same.

That, dear reader, is the cycle of addiction. Much more to say about that in future posts.

For now, I’ll close by saying that I feel better about myself today as a proclaimed sex addict than I ever did before. I’m learning that I’ve been covering up my shame with unproductive behavior, rather than facing it head-on. Facing that shame and emptiness is what I have to do.

Thanks for walking with me on this journey.

Jacob The Addict (jacobtheaddict@gmail.com)

Hi, I’m Jacob (not my real name, though appropriate) and I’m a sex addict. I’ve been “sober” for something approaching five months.

Wait … did you just judge me? I think you did. Actually, I’m certain that you did. I haven’t even posted this and you are already judging me. Just because I said I was a sex addict.

Had I told you I was an alcoholic, you would have thought: “how sad … at least there’s hope for him”. If I’d said I was a heroin addict, you’d probably want to help me. If I was a nicotine addict (which I used to be), you’d tell me to buy some Nicorette gum and quit.

But because I told you I’m a sex addict, you think I’m a pervert, a pedophile, a rapist, a flasher or something else horrible and disgusting.

To set the record straight, I’ve done nothing illegal. I’ve never abused anyone. I’ve never touched a child inappropriately. I’ve never been sexual with anyone of the opposite sex.

No, my thing is pornography. A purely private problem. A victimless crime, one might say. Yet, a victimless crime that leaves thousands of victims in its wake – many who will never know they were victims.

Lest you picture me as a ragged, homeless alley-dweller, let me tell you this much about myself.

I’ve been married to my wife, Amy (not her real name), for several decades. We raised a houseful of brilliant kids. I’m a C-level executive with decades of service at a multi-billion dollar company. I’m a Christian (there you go judging again). I’ve taught Bible class, led worship and been a leader in my local church. All while living a secret, compartmentalized life as a sex addict, immersed in a world of pornographic imagery.

I recently “hit bottom”, was “outed” or “discovered”, and “came clean” with Amy. Much more about that in future posts.

I’ve begun a 12-step program for those with the same addiction. I have individual therapy every other week with a therapist trained in treating sexual addiction. I participate in group therapy with eight other guys once a week. Amy and I have started couple’s therapy.

In short, I’ve begun working on recovery. I’ve much to learn but already have much to share. That’s why I’ve started this blog. I already feel liberated, though working through this with Amy is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I promise not to share graphic details, as that would be counterproductive in many ways. So, if you were looking for stimulation, you’ll need to go elsewhere.

But if you are looking for one man’s journey from addiction to wholeness – most likely with many ups and downs – this may be for you.

I hope to see you again soon.

Jacob The Addict (jacobtheaddict@gmail.com)