I’ve been called Adam, Aaron even Nick. It’s part of life, I know what it’s like remembering people’s names. It takes a while to etch them to memory and it isn’t personal.

It’s perfectly reasonable to correct people on something like this. But I haven’t, I wonder why that is.

Honestly, I think being the grey man is a survival instinct these days.

It’s been niggling me for weeks, I can’t shake this feeling of toxic regret and shame and my name seems to be a trigger. Every letter and phone call seems to make me wince a little.

I’m still angry at myself. I know the me of now is far different to the “few me’s ago”. Life evolves, we change and to define myself by the past is to willingly and knowingly place myself under shame.

I recently heard one of these online self-help soundbite gurus on a reel clip talk about how not correcting people when they get your name wrong means you don’t value yourself. Perhaps there’s some truth to this.

My thoughts are drawn to biblical figures who are renamed by God, Saul the persecutor became Paul the leader, and Simon the fisherman became Peter the rock.

The lesson here is not so much in the names and the meanings but more that they represent the death of the former and the life and new birth that follows. Out with the old and in with the new.

The phrase dying to self is a religious one but in my recovery its an important priority in my life, my own way leads to destruction and oblivion. By putting my ways to death it creates space, time and opportunity to be present and show up in my life.

The process of that death that gives life is what my self-care looks like. I guess what I wrestle with is that my name represents a stunted, flawed and broken individual and I am still trying to make peace with that past without avoiding ownership and accountability.

While walking with my partner today she jokingly said I’m tired so I’m going to sleep, we happened to be on a hike with a little bit further to go, she closed her eyes as I held her hand and carried on walking and thought I was going to lead her in a ditch so she opened her eyes. I laughed and said, the problem isn’t where I will lead you, it’s that you don’t trust me.

This was a bolt of lightning moment for me. It’s exactly what my relationship is with my higher power, letting go of the steering wheel is so hard to do. Coping with life’s stresses with my addictive behaviour was like my vehicle suspension, I thought it was giving me a smooth ride.

I recently met with a fellow addict and we discussed what things were like for us in “the bubble” I used this week’s language of experience, I’ve been playing a video game with my partner, and we each take turns to make our way through the story of the game.

We observed how we both approach the game from a different angle, she explores, solves problems and builds up her inventory and equipment so that she can take on the bosses at various stages. A wise methodology that mirrors her pragmatic and patient approach to life.

On the other hand, I try to go straight to the monsters and try to beat them too soon. The trouble is I roam from one side quest to another and don’t stick to one thing.

I get distracted and take ages to make progress because I am ill-equipped, and not ready for the foes I face. I have the capacity for so many tools to defeat enemies but wonder in with one potion and expect to progress to victory but fail miserably. (Sounds a lot like basic me)

All of a sudden life sounds like a video game, I work on my inventory, and I know that there are many solutions to life’s puzzles, stresses and monsters.

I guess the lesson I take from the shame of one’s name, is a simple one, it’s all about the repetitive act of self-forgiveness.

I try to keep my focus on experience, strength and hope but from time to time there is an element of theory that needs exploration to gain a greater understanding.

As far as addictions go, sex addiction carries greater societal shame than its substance and other behavioural counterparts, often inducing outrage when discussed in a cultural setting. Many sex addicts work very hard to live in privacy and live a life of amends and carry the message discreetly, some live under a rock and live in the shadows.

I’ve not been comfortable with the idea of living under a rock, the programs mantra of from shame to grace leads me to focus on the redemptive latter than the former, I try to own my identity as a recovering addict while preserving my anonymity. Shame has to become a healthy boundary keeper rather than a monstrous accusor.

Recently I found myself on a sex addiction subject algorithm rabbit hole. There seems to be an ongoing debate over whether sex addiction is a disease or disorder, a legitimate addiction or a label for individuals of low moral fabric.

While this debate rages on, the real questions should be about the cause and what could be done to remedy the suffering of addicts and those affected by the fallout.

I find myself amazed, thinking why isn’t porn identified for the toxic cancerous industry that it is. Consumers and performers alike are victims on opposite sides of the coin, and a coin is an apt metaphor given the billions it generates every year.

Why are lads in their 20s needing viagra to perform sexually? And why are stats indicating that young people increasingly encounter oral sex before their first kiss? Pornography availability has exploded in the age of broadband and wifi and contributes nothing positive to the human experience.

In the stories of many addicts of all kinds, the common theme in shares, is that they came to their maladapted coping as early as twelve years old, some even before that, The distorted thinking that often finds it’s roots in childhood, leads me to believe that education is a great means of prevention. But how are we to go about better education when the modern day teacher of all things sex is porn, social media, celebrity culture?

As a seasoned veteran consumer of print, VHS, DVD and digital porn, my sexual compulsive behaviour would descend on me like a fog, despite my best efforts to swear off using or keeping things as beige and “normal” as possible, I would be overrun by what I can only describe as brain malware. I was more of a passenger than a driver.

We have the phrase, cunning, baffling and powerful when we remind ourselves of our powerlessness to overcome our addictive behaviour alone, originally coined by the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous in the “Big book” it’s a phrase all twelve steppers will be familiar with, from the gambler who despite all logic creates a financial black hole in their life regardless of the consequence, or the alcoholic who continues to drink after recently being kept alive when organs pack up, only to crack open another crate as soon as they can lift an arm to drink.

We all know that the things we did as addicts living in ignorance of our “disease of choice” only happened because we were not in our right minds, we had no brakes, and the perceived high far outweighed the possible consequence. We existed in contradictions sellotaped together by distorted thinking.

Sex addiction has been joked about, and ridiculed as an excuse for getting caught and I even laughed it off in the past saying “isn’t everyone a sex addict”? The irony was completely lost on me at the time.

The formative years are becoming all the more complex in our culture, making identity, gender, orientation and mental health some sort of human tapestry of dysphoria.

I have to stay away from issues of political and cultural debate as I find them quite depressing and to take care of little old me, I have to live my life in the present. Experiential-based living without getting sucked into the vortex of theoretical arguments that further nothing but divide and segregate us.

It seems that disunity, anger and outrage are currencies that are performing well. While intimacy, empathy and forgiveness are in shorter supply.

While medical professionals disagree with one another over the legitimacy of sexual compulsivity as a bona fide addiction, I thank God for those who choose to work with humans. As a recovering addict, a label or a status of disease isn’t important enough to me, what is important is that I get well and stay well, that I live a life of love, intimacy and authenticity, a life connected to others.

The world seems obsessed with the expression and recognition of the individual.

For me, all of my individual-centric focus landed me in a spiralling existence of shame, stunting and suppressing my authentic self.

In connection to others and dying to self (to use a religious phrase). I find purpose and true empowerment.

I hope that in time people can talk about the things that nobody likes to talk about, and we may then see some positive change in the area of people getting help.

Recently in the rooms of recovery, we read the opening chapter of Dr Patrick Carnes’ book “Out of the shadows” its detailed and gritty examples of how sex addiction destroys the lives of those locked in its orbit, was a difficult read, even for those of us living with the condition. Surely if we are uneasy with this, how much more is the rest of the population?

What may surprise you is that Out of the shadows was written in 1983, the year I was born and long before the internet.

It shows that this is a human condition and the internet is more an accelerant than a cause of this particular fire. I often felt many resentments towards the age of living with so much technology, heaven knows I would never have happened upon half of what I did were it not for high-speed internet with endless avenues and shady sewers to explore.

That being said, the internet isn’t some ethereal entity floating around but more like a supermarket whose shelves get filled with what we find, linger upon, consume, destroy, revisit and create a demand for more.

A disease of choice? As long as I am living out of the shadows, that’s all that matters for now.

The last week has been full of ups and downs. I found myself grieving the absence of a friend who will be walking a different path. The bond we addicts form in our shared quest towards redemption is a strong one, we know the shame, the regret and the consequence but we also know it’s important to our journey and making amends that we face it head-on. I threw myself into my step work for step eight so as not to dwell on feeling sad.

As I looked at my list of people I have harmed, I was aware that so much of my life has been spent in isolation and fantasy, I was living in an illusion.

It was tough for me to say that I had harmed a load of girls who didn’t even know the imaginative violation I acted out in my mind. I know I had wronged them, and whether I could ever make a direct  amends or not, I felt it important to name them.

I may not have harmed them directly, but I became aware that my porn consumption meant there are so many faces and real lives that I have wronged by blindly consuming content. I could never name them all, so where I can name someone that I feel I have wronged, I will. It’s also a part of making amends to myself.

I felt a great sense of relief completing this step, I will spend the rest of my days paying the debts of my amends to those directly affected by my addiction and it’s recently dawned on me that the 12 steps isn’t just some self help program to me, it’s now a part of my identity and DNA, given the numerous identities I had tried to wear in the past to find acceptance, this is the one that works and helps me to truly survive and show up in my life.

After a meeting with my home group, I grabbed a coffee and we chatted. It was the first time I experienced a new fellow semmingly saw me as a font of recovery knowledge. I guess thats how it works, when we share, we put our experience, strength and hope out there for others to model and carry on their own journeys.

This lad asked me how I get away from the powerful pull of obsession and our acting out rituals. It was a good question and one that I will spend my life trying to answer as that pull will always be there.

I normally explain that the three circles covers this perfectly as our core behaviours are the black hole in the centre of the galaxy that is our life, if we focus so much on living in our middle circle and closely orbit our inner core then the pull remains a constant.

The trick is to spend life in your outer circle as much as possible, that way its gravity loses some of its captivating power over us.

This time though, the medium of film came to mind, my step work left such an imprint on my mind, the realisation of how I had spent life isolating in fantasy. I was lonely on my little island with my imaginary friend. I was like Chuck Nolan in Castaway and my friend that kept me alive or so I thought was my addiction.

I just said, for us to escape our island, we can’t take Wilson with us. He grasped what I was trying to say,

Reaching a place in recovery where you know you have to get off your island is a place where you know you can’t take the illusion with you. Wilson may have kept you alive for a time but it is a one sided conversation, it’s void of real connection. As long as I lived on that island, I didnt show up for life, I wasnt present.

It’s not easy though, because when you have spent so long without real connection and intimacy you often grieve the availability, familiarity and reliability of that one sided imaginary friend. The illusion was real in the bubble but it is so destructive and leads only to more doom.

The power of real connection though is worth waiting for and working to be part of. Intimacy is a two way thing and not really a medicine on tap but rather a moment of intense experience, presence and connection that surpasses anything that fantasy has to offer. You carry the deep love every day with gratitude and contentment in life.

Life will always be about seeing the real question I am trying to answer in those moments of difficulty. Identifying my true needs means I can find the healthy solution and not fall into the warn paths of old thinking.

I will give you an example, I passed an attractive girl as I returned to my car, my brain started the age of trope saying of “what I wouldn’t give for” I stopped mid-thought, this is the stinking thinking I hate and sadly it’s for many just a normal part of being a bloke. For an addict though, that train runs all the way to doom if I choose to board it.

I disrupt my thinking, I get my phone out as I get into my car and I hit record, what’s the correct pattern of thinking here? I mean, what I really wouldn’t give for, is to be more present with my own partner, to find deeper levels of intimacy and experience each other more, I want to get back what years of isolation in my addiction have robbed me of.

That’s the train I chose to board, as I dont ride it alone and drowning in shame.

As trainspotting says “choose your future, choose life”

So here we are, Step 8. It’s time to list those I have harmed and be willing to make amends to them all.

As I look at the growing list of people I have to make amends to in my life I am faced with the consequences of my previous life decisions and the harm caused by my compulsive sexual behaviour.

The thought of how I could make amends to people not even in my life anymore is daunting, what’s more challenging, is the thought that there are countless faces I have objectified and witnessed in my consumption of pornography that I could never name or make amends to.

Living amends

Top of that list is my partner, I never appreciated just how solid, faithful and loving this person has been the whole time, when I think about the fights and the times when I thought we aren’t going to last, not knowing if she really loved me enough in those years. Over the last nearly two years she has been the illustration of what love is. She is everything I ever wanted and she was right here with me the whole time.

I am willing to spend the rest of my life making amends and intend to love her with gratitude and joy that I couldn’t have imagined before.

This journey though is tough, tonight she looked at me and said “you need a hug” the fact that I get to hear words like that after what I have done to her teaches me so much about love and forgiveness.

She has been supportive and empathetic towards my addiction recovery and in ways had been like a sponsor at times. Early on in our relationship, she got me watching Elementary. Crazy to think all these years on and we still watch it and I now identify with all those 12-step scenes like it’s a different show.

Direct amends

There are others I need to make direct amends to, I have or had a friend that stepped away from being friends with me when I told them about my problem, they went through the motions of “we are ok mate” but disappeared from my life without a trace. The silence and absence have been deafening, but that’s a consequence. Direct amends would need to be made as I owed them a sum of money when we parted ways so I need to make that right even if our friendship cannot be repaired.

There are those too, that if I ever saw again and an opportunity arose, I would like to make amends and apologise to them for my conduct in either friendship, employment or with those with whom I displayed sexual or emotionally destructive behaviour. They may or may not be possible but being willing is the key here.

Except when to do so…

The thing about making amends for the past is I may do more harm than good, so it may not be possible to cover every person on my list, they may not be reachable or even alive anymore.

A lot of this stuff I will have to live with so a really important one is to make amends to myself, I devalued and went against my morals and boundaries countless times in my sex addiction. Getting my self-care right and working on my program is how I make my amends to myself. If I get that right I might be around long enough to get through as many of them as possible.

Tonight the phrase “consequence is part of recovery” plays through my head. The key is not to despise it, or fear it. It’s the most important part of the healing process for all parties.

By making amends in whatever shape it takes we demonstrate that we are no longer slaves to the false God of our addiction. For a world that is cynical about higher powers, we sure do have a lot of fake ones out there.

Today has been a triggering day but one where I reached out to others, practised gratitude and prayed for the sex addict who suffers and I always have to remember that man is still me. I face each day by the grace of God and I continue on this journey from Shame to Grace.

While the consequences of my past spread out like ripples on a pond I know the future is a much bigger stone than my past.

I finished the day with meditation and an ice-cold tub. The natural stressor teaches me I can handle discomfort and find serenity in adversity.

As I write this post I am in bed warming up. Grateful for my loved ones, my home and the level of comfort I get to appreciate.

In my recovery journey, a blend of therapy and working the steps has led me to a much better place in life, I may not be perfect but that’s ok, I was never meant to be, nor could I be.

In some time with a fellow twelve stepper, we talked about service, service is a great part of recovery but for someone with a past in clean yourself-up religion, it can be important to recognise that I don’t get to medicate with work and service at the expense of my self-care.

Self-care is a label for many things. In AA we have a thing called Just for Today and it hits on the aspects of practising self-care.

It’s a checklist for getting oneself through a day and keeping one’s sobriety intact.
For recovering addicts, it’s a case of focusing your time management on establishing healthy rituals that keep you out of the prison of your addiction.

In a recent meeting we listened to a main share from an American group that makes recordings available online, I had heard this one a few times but on this occasion, it helped me to realise where I had gone wrong in a scene earlier that day.

I have felt misunderstood most of my life and struggled with healthy attachment and boundaries for a long chunk of that time. While I have made significant leaps in communication and honesty. I know that the answer to my problems is never inward towards myself but in connection with others. I still struggle with the worries of being misunderstood or judged.

In the past, I was always told I was the king of the overshares, something which strikes me as ironic in recovery, as I never really shared the important stuff, rather, I opted to get caught up in conversational theory based on knowledge and subjective opinion.

When you have new colours to paint with in life you have to go through a process of learning, the vulnerability, emotions and empathy can be powerful. In recovery I have found new depths in forgiveness that I didn’t think possible, I realise too that when I open my mouth in conversations with others, I have to start with the mirror.

When you spend time with people you will find differences in opinion, that has always been the case, but we live in a time where our phones are also platforms, and the internet becomes a supermarket that gives you more of what you look at, click on, buy, consume, watch and listen to, (you get the point)

This isn’t just an image applicable to my use of technology and a cautionary tale of being careful about what you look at, but also how you spend your time, who you hang with and who you listen to.

We all have one of those friends that like to gossip, dump their opinions about everything or keep on going into awkward territory when you spend time in their company. I have been and can still be a person like that.

I recently found myself courting some old behaviour patterns, in today’s cancel culture it’s easy to feel disheartened and fear that we as a society have become unforgiving and offer little chance for redemption for anyone.

We live in a time where anger is a currency and the marketplace is massive. The only thing is, it has no value. Outrage and viral reactions amass comments but contribute little else to discourse or understanding.

In the past, I would get drawn into political discussions and theoretical rabbit holes to escape or hide from my problems, it was how I unknowingly tried to manage others’ perceptions of me, it was a sideshow, a distraction that meant I never looked in the mirror and felt the pain.

So I found myself getting defensive in a conversation where I knew there would be a contentious difference of opinion, despite knowing that nothing good comes from being triggered into trying to justify, rationalise and explain my opinions when it just wasn’t needed.

In reflection and meditating on this, I am inclined to wonder is there a Sex Addicts version of being a dry drunk?

A dry drunk is an AA term for an alcoholic that is sober but displays the same behaviours as when they were drinking. The answer in my case is yes there is and I need to have my eyes open.

The sharer in the audio I previously mentioned explained that he had spent his life not feeling good enough, he would often try to figure out what was wrong with others and try to fix them meanwhile neglecting his own needs.

I identified with that a lot, I mean I did that a lot, growing up, and it would manifest in trying to figure out why my stepdad would be so moody, was it me? Should I do something? Make a cup of tea maybe? I carried on this people-pleasing behaviour. Even in my relationship, I have a habit of sorry bombing, I would try to defuse tension by apologising for things I hadn’t done, so much so my partner would say “What are you specifically saying sorry for?”

My relationships and my time have to be built on my new life and genuine self, they have to focus on the related part of the word relationship, there cannot be room for performance or me trying to manage other people’s thinking or perception.

The last month or so has been tough, while I am grateful to be intact and sexually sober and for the most part, working my program well, I must confess that I can neglect self-care, maybe not in the dress or personal hygiene sense, but when I engage in conversations that make me vulnerable, I neglect my self-care practice of privacy, I drop the ball. Or as my therapist helped me to see, I allowed someone to get me bent out of shape.

When I am overtired my mind gets very active, I can waffle on at my partner despite seeing her eyes check out to get some sleep. I guess when I get tired of life I need to be on guard against baseline behaviours and thinking, even if they are not directly related to my core addictive behaviours.

I also realise that my morning routine needs to be better, facing the day alert and calibrated to my just for today means I have a better day than if I just roll out of bed and try to tackle things as they happen. It starts with surrender, and a reminder in the mirror each day that my only job is to take care of me. I can help others but it isn’t my job to please, fix or convince.

Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you are right.

Wim Hof

Rewind a few years ago and I sat with a guy from the gym, he told me about this crazy guy, The Ice Man. I dismissed the significance at the time but the story that is Wim Hof has had a profound influence on how I do life, even more so in recovery.

I go into this for a few reasons, in reflection, I can see what things were like, what things have changed and how they are now.

In the bubble of my addiction, I was making attempts to rid myself of what I knew I wanted to manage out of my life. My deep and meaningful reconnection to the outdoors through hiking and camping, my lifestyle of exercise and healthier eating, and even looking into meditation and reconnecting to some sort of spirituality. These were all attempts to clean me up without the mirror moment and the conclusion that led to the statement my name is blank and I’m an addict.

Early on in my recovery journey, my identity was turned upside down, I saw my demise around every corner, and in moments I would crave it, mostly fear it like some sense of universal justice for being such a screwy kind of guy.

My relationship with exercise was always time out from whatever would be going on in my life, runs and walks were escapism but in recovery, I don’t really escape, I coexist with life on life’s terms.

This shift in thinking took a while to translate to running. Only weeks before my running was hitting 18 miles, on track for my first marathon only to be living in some new world with different limitations and laws of possibility. Or so I thought.

Little over a mile and a half into a run and I realised I was in a bad way mentally. I switched off the fast-paced music and stopped at a favourite spot by my local canal route. If I was going to reclaim my running I was going to have to learn how to be present in the moment.

I lay there as cyclists and dog walkers passed me while I lay down breathing heavily. I followed the Wim Hof guided breathing method app for 3 rounds.  Each breath-hold was accompanied by the recordings of the Ice Man himself. The words hit me “be in this moment, without breathing”

After this period of meditation, I carried on with a run and a different mindset towards being out, I would have to focus less on destination, time and distance and more on the experience itself.

Fitness and exercise have become a much healthier part of my life in recovery, I often share with fellows my outer circle lifestyle whether it’s a trail run, a mountain trek or my latest camping trip on the side of a hill in silly weather. It’s all become part of how I cope and control stress in healthier ways than I used to with my sexually compulsive behaviour and ignorant porn consumption.

Over the festive period, I picked up an injury after a semi-intense workout, I had gone to bed that night with a nervous system firing like it was new year’s Eve in London.

Recently the only way to manage pain is with prescription drugs and my practices of meditation and cold water therapy and a casualty of the injury is my fitness status.

I had started to define myself by my latest algorithm-determined status on my Garmin. It turns out you can turn healthy things into unhealthy patterns and rituals, (this is a textbook sex addict) it’s not the sex it’s my relationship with it, preoccupation and obsession and distorted thinking can jump around into other areas and things.

I think of my addiction as the Voldermort part of my brain and if I let it. There would be a few Horcruxs in my life.

It’s been a tough few weeks of adjusting to a type of pain I’ve not been accustomed to at a time when my old ways are not an option for me.

Today was another one of those let’s just stop at the canal and get present again moments.

Two things happened today, I went out with a load of guys from 12 step group and enjoyed a walk and a catch-up with each of my friends so it was a blend of outer circle activities with guys who share experience strength and hope to work our program of recovery. I was immensely grateful at a time when meds and injury grief mentality has been getting me into a bit of a low mood.

The second moment was as my meds wore off and I went out into the garden for a dip in my recently purchased ice bath now set up in the garden. As it rained and I huddled in the cold water up to my neck I focused on my breathing as the raindrops bounced off the surface of the water. After five minutes I get out and a wave of happiness or dopamine hit me.

Wim often jests with the phrase “get high off your own supply”, whether it’s breathing or cold therapy both bring about a sense of being uplifted for me, whatever brain chemistry that is going on here, it’s a damn site healthier than how I previously rigged my brains chemical dispenser. Porn addiction is like skimming a fruit machine without putting anything in.

I go into this new week determined that this setback of injury like everything else shall pass. All things are ultimately only temporary and life is about adjusting to and dealing with what is in front of you.

Our progress is not always linear though, I had a run-in with another hijacker of the brain this week in the form of alcohol, it’s a strange one, drinking alcohol is an ok in moderation thing and I like the odd glass of spirits. I am no longer the drinker I was in my younger years but after a few days of trying to handle the injury pain without meds, I was offered a few drinks in a social setting.

Let’s just say the night didn’t go well and I suffered the next nearly 48 hours in a way I haven’t in years. Now! This might not be some porn or sex binge as per my core behaviours but it weakened me in an environment and for that night made some decisions against my program of self-care.

All I will say is we reflect, we seek to understand what is our need. How could or should it be met? and how do I make sure I don’t slap a counterfeit band-aid on a pain that isn’t mine to fix? Because I don’t get to try playing God anymore. I was and will never be good at it.

Here’s to a week of being grounded in now and practising the serenity prayer. I can’t change my nervous system’s wiring but I can adapt, be patient, rest, and remain active provided I practice wisdom and look after myself.

One day at a time.

In an age of digital connectivity are we less connected and steered into alienating and ever increasing individualism?

As an addict, my life has been about maintaining a series of dials, I maintained areas of my life with a degree of control or as best as I could manage my life. The thing is, my life was like an open house with a secret and hidden panic room. It was a place I would go to alone. That was my addiction! It isolated me and made me believe I could cope, addictions are coping mechanisms that are ruining our lives and things which we have no control over.

Very early on in my recovery journey, I realised that the seemingly socially confident me was little more than a projection. I was living a PR campaign just hoping people would like me and that I would feel good enough.

If I were asked to sum up the why behind my addiction, I would say, I have never felt good enough as a son, a brother, a friend, a partner or even a human. When you feel that shit and ashamed about the face staring back in the mirror when you wake up every day, it’s no surprise you may have some issues.

My whole life I have been seeking true and meaningful connection, I just didn’t twig, I searched for brotherhood with hopes of connection that could be found in the military, if I could only be strong enough, I would seek sonship from God in the church if I could only be pure enough, I would seek the best girls if only I could be slim and fit enough, I would seek admiration if I could sing and play the guitar well enough.

I found true connections when the conditional aspects were removed.

In the program we make calls and the reason we do this is to support others in their journey, to get the recovery, strength and hope for ourselves but ultimately we get the ability to connect to others, these often self-imposed conditions are removed. We relate to one another’s shared stories and struggles.

In a recent chat I shared with a friend about how I fear the day my therapist says to me we don’t need to carry on, we have covered all we can together. The thought entered my mind as I spotted the Jason Fox book on the shelf, I had listened to his story about how therapy helped him through the trials and pains of PTSD. As I shared this feeling we related to one another and it dawned on me, in our therapist’s room we put an end to conditional connection, we would finally learn to form a healthy attachment. No wonder this was a strong feeling.

As I chatted to my partner about my feelings and thoughts about connection, she reminded me of having purpose too, my partner is an amazing human being and I took her for granted for so long and almost ruined everything when she discovered the depths of my problems but she immediately said I know you are a good person, she saw something in me that I couldn’t. Shame will do that to anyone.

As other posts have featured I have a recovery hero in the figure of Sherlock Holmes, specifically Johnny Lee Miller’s modern portrayal of the flawed genius. After some time in recovery and the ups and downs of life, our hero finds himself back in London away from his sober companion, friend and colleague Joan Watson. He finds a connection in the form of a new student in the field of deduction. That new connection and purpose allow him to throw his planned relapse fix into the fire and continue his recovery journey.

Every friend and person in my life plays a part in my ability to throw my next slip and fix into the fire.

I recently had a spiritual thought, I believe it to be a dose of comfort from God, so much of mankind’s relationship to a creator is centred upon some story of sin and rebellion a shameful fall and religion paints God to be some angry Santa making a list of all the wrong you have done to beat you with. I am glad I don’t believe in that God.

I thought rather than a list of wrongs, I believe God said if he were to show me the times I genuinely sought a connection to him in the foreign land I had chosen to call my home, I would be blown away, the songs I sang that reminded me of worship. The times I tried to let someone in because I knew I had a problem, the moments on top of a mountain where I sought to place little old me into the scale of the enormity of the wonders of nature. Not one of these moments of trying to satisfy my spiritual thirst and hunger had escaped his attention.

God would instead choose to focus on these rather than my inventory of shame, that’s why I have steps 5 & 10.

I am reminded of the lyrics of a song I like to put on when I need to remind myself of some important facts.

“to satisfy my thirst to love me at my worst, and even when I don’t remember, you remind me of my worth”

If you are going through a difficult time, remember you are not alone, you are loved and now more than ever is the time to seek connection. Go for that coffee, reach out to that friend, patch things up with that family member and pick up the phone and call someone.

You never know, maybe the other person needs it as much as you do.

My mentor sat and smoked and listened hour after hour while I unloaded the deadening burden… The main thing was there was nothing I said that was too terrible or too trivial to shock or bore him. He identified throughout and through this practical communication an unexpected thing happened: the veil of separation that I had lived my life behind lifted.

Russell Brand

My sponsor is a remarkable man, he came into the programme with a similar story to mine. We all find parts of our stories relate to one another and with that humility present, you can relate to people a lot more and in doing so, empathise.

I write this in October but it’s really about April, so a whole 6 months have passed us by and life has got in the way. My sponsor uses this phrase a lot. It sums up that the steps are not just some PowerPoint session you sit through and say “roger that” and I got it, done!

The steps are landmarks on a journey and that journey looks different for all of us. So this blog is a result of just that. Life has got in the way but just this last fortnight I concluded steps 6 & 7, but we will get to that later.

Step 5 had been in the diary for a while and got pushed back after realising that I wasn’t quite ready. In reality, I was overthinking my step 4, I took longer than I needed to, in my experience I was writing a list of why I am such a despicable c#@t and I was going to be as diligent as Santa writing his naughty list.

The whole of step 4 was triggering and caused much self-hatred. What step 5 taught me was this list was what I was going to rid myself of and find a level of forgiveness for myself and was the opportunity to own it all without condemnation.

I drove to meet the fellows of the Friday morning fry-up club, my sponsor would then give me the whole of their day after working a night shift. The guy is a machine of service and support and insists it helps him just as much as it helps me. Something I have found to be true in service and friendship with fellows myself.

I sobbed most of the way to our meeting and a fry-up was the last thing I thought I needed. After a brief time of company and fellowship, we set off. As we began to go through the work of step 4 it was like turning a slow tap on a barrel then for hours and I mean most of the day we went through it all. All the resentments, all the misconduct from acts, to fantasies to just being a selfish person. As each item was discussed we found the common character defects at work throughout most of my life.

We discussed things I have never mentioned and may never mention again. And that’s the point, it’s the chance to drain that barrel of the shame that I had been collecting like rainwater all my life.

My resentments were tough, I mean I had a lot towards my physically abusive father and those fed into my fears and in all truth are one of the sources of my biggest pains. I mean my Dad could have never truly loved us if he beat my mum up as much as he did or terrify us the way he did with his violent and unpredictable outbursts. What could I possibly have to own in this?

Here’s the thing, that trauma caused me pain, it also became an excuse, a fear, and a heavy weight I should have never carried. As a small boy sure he had nothing to own here, but as a nearly 40-something man, I had defined this now frail and miserable lonely old man by his defects, his problems and his misconduct for all of my life. So maybe I needed to put an end to this if I want to forgive myself and be forgiven.

Just a heads up but this father of mine is on my amends list. Not because of my addiction but because I have told his story and concentrated on my pain. I need to release him and myself from that prison of pain and unforgiveness. (that doesn’t make what he did ok but it means we don’t have to stay there in the past locked to the pain)

Now, that’s just a part of one entry in this inventory and with that level of reflection and consideration, you can imagine how exhausted I felt by the end, and how tired my sponsor must have been too.

The day drew to a close with my fears. This didn’t take as long but one fear was that I was terrified and still am to some degree about how painful it will be not really for me, but for others who learn of the severity of my descent into oblivion.

Very early on in my recovery, I told one friend the whole 4k story. I thought that our friendship was strong and based on an unconditional and unshakable foundation. It turned out that it was too tall an ask. I was ghosted and to my knowledge, that confidence hasn’t been kept. I miss them and in some way, I hope I will be able to make amends to them.

That experience led me to thoughts of a second friend whom I had days before come clean to when they pressed me with questions on specifics. In my new self, the honesty led to me sharing with a friend who I was sure was more likely to kick seven shades out of me. The opposite was what happened, I found acceptance and reassurance that I am better than that, and I am not what I had done, “I know that’s not you mate” he said.

Despite it seeming to go so well, I was terrified the normal periods of absence our friendship endured were more a distance because of my revelation. I feared that I would feel the same loss, rejection and pain that I did from the loss of my other mate.

My sponsor stood up when we finished, hugged me and said “well-done boy” you got through it.

The relief and gratitude I felt were immense, but so too was how drained I felt from it. Like Ian Beale “I had nothing left” (sorry a little humour was needed)

The drive back began and my phone rang. It was my mate who I had just been chatting about with my fears.

“what you up to mate? Fancy a pint and some pool”?

I explained that I would love to but was exhausted from step 5, I explained what it entailed and he said “well-done mate, I’m really proud of you and I’m here for you ok, what you told me hasn’t changed that”

Mic drop! If you are on step 4 and walking through the mire thinking you can’t do it. Just get it done because it is like breaking through to a new level in your relationship with yourself.