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.