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.

It’s just over 10 months ago since the walls came down and my problem was exposed to the light of day, I think back to the early days and said I would never go back to this, porn is gone and I won’t be doing this again, I have discovered since that this was naive on my part despite the well-meaning and sentiment at the time.

A few months ago I was working at my day job and this involved being switched on and alert to groups of youths who could potentially cause trouble in the store, a few lads and a few girls around 15 years old, typically they headed over to some of the more expensive lines, I had to observe, but couldn’t ask them to leave until they gave cause to justify the request. This proved to be challenging as one of the girls was acting in a way that was more reminiscent of a girl at 1 am in a high street kebab shop. Being carried by piggyback around the store she also had minimal attire to match.

The rigorous honesty of recovery isn’t just about owning stuff from the past, it is almost as much being honest about the present and the day-to-day challenges of recovery, so in the spirit of honesty, I was triggered by this brief event, I asked the group to leave and was hurled the usual abuse retail staff endure as they go about their business.

What triggered me was the genuine fact that I found this young and immature girl attractive, I hate that I can say that, I hate that I feel that, this realisation began to eat away at me. The only way I knew to deal with all negative emotions was to act out, I didn’t, but that’s only because I made a couple of calls and got it off my chest. I felt that even though I was triggered I had done the right thing. Surely this was the progress we mention in our programme.

This moment steered the course for my therapy for a few weeks. We discussed how deeply uncomfortable I was with my attraction to some girls that are far too young for me and in this case not of legal age, we established that I was carrying a lot of shame surrounding this.

My therapist put things this way, just because there is a particular shade of paint on my pallet, it doesn’t mean I have to use it, nor does it mean that’s all I have. I am not sure if I do or not, but having spoken to a few people about this, I can say that society has a real problem with fetishising school girls, it’s a common genre of porn and is a well warn fantasy and trope in television and pop culture.

Fight the new drug as an organisation challenges some of the toxic ways the pornography industry glamorises things like racism, and promotes things like teen, rape, and rough sex genres. When I think back to the early days of the internet, half the stuff that’s readily available now was taboo and not something that you would see or find.

As time passes by the ominous fear of people finding out about my addiction and the shame that comes with it is like a hurricane, while I survived the first part, I have used the time in the eye of the storm to reinforce the building that is my life, I have the friendship and brotherhood of my fellowship and the ongoing love and support of my partner and family and friends.

After using accountability software and working on the programme I started to resent the steps I had taken, the laying down of my privacy, the lack of ability to go my own way, the feeling of this is too strict, this isn’t healthy as I cannot live in celibacy.

Before I knew it I thought I needed to cut that chord, I deleted my sponsor and the app that acted as protection. In its place I then set up a new Instagram, I then started to add some of the girls I remembered, and the next thing I knew had been on there for 5 hours and followed nearly 700 accounts. I mean sure this wasn’t porn, but it was a definite dopamine binge, and even if I finished myself off with a zen style empty-minded effort, but I had got there by textbook compulsive behavior. This was acting out!

It took me a couple of days to come clean and check in about this, after a daily reading which focused on honesty, I immediately got in touch with my sponsor and shared that night at the meeting. It was a weight off the chest but a reminder that being derailed was too easy, after a chat with my therapist I realised something had changed, even though I had done what I had done, I was not staying there. I couldn’t call this place home any more.

I am far from perfect or walking the recovery I wish to see, but it is true when it is said that the opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety, it’s connection.

In my addiction, life was about self, survival. Me against the world, now? I am a part of the world and I only want to be the best version of myself and make it through this storm.

My life is not that of a lone wolf, I am not alone, I never was! That is just the lie addicts believe.

Maybe it’s time to focus on a better type of storm.

Recovery is a tightrope walk it’s always about maintaining balance.

Lately, I have been slowly wading through the work involved in step 4 of the Sex Addicts Anonymous 12-step program is as follows:

STEP 4. We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

It sounds simple, doesn’t it? And in many ways, it is. Each group and sponsor can break it down into its constituent parts. In my experience, it’s broken into three categories.

Fears, Resentments, Misconduct & Harm

There are many fears in life, some common, some not so common, and some just off-the-chart bizarre. 

A common trait among addicts is to catastrophise one’s fears, which needs to be kept in check as it can be triggering and unhelpful to the delicately poised life of recovery. 

We list them, explain them to the best of our understanding, and then list how they affect us and consider the defects of character they rely upon,

for example:

I fear that staying with me will become too tall an order for my partner and that I will end up alone.

In reality, this is ultimately the fear of loss. It is both grounded and rational. I also fear the potential of backlash if anyone discovers the full extent of my problem. That the shock, anger and disgust would be too much for any partner to endure. 

It’s a present and future tense fear that I have very little control over, as it is down to an individual’s will and choice, not mine.

Left unchecked, it could affect my relationship, self-esteem, and security.

This fear is also the perfect soil for the defects of self-pity and impatience.

Every fear that you can think of needs to go on the list. It’s handwritten and just one of the parts of this inventory step. We follow the same for our resentments, Our sexual misconduct, and when we harm others. When you think about it, whether you are an addict or not, this can be a massive self-stock take.

To date, I have barely started on this step. Upon reflection, I have years’ worth of poor decisions and years of buried misconduct against myself mainly. And while I have not physically harmed anyone, the consequences of my actions affect others.

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Owning something like sex addiction causes you to confront the shame that kept you fighting the whirlpool only to end up drowning over and over. It is depressing, and triggering and often gives me a dose of what I have come to know as post-Egypt syndrome.

In one of the original “big books”, The Bible, the Israelites found themselves free from slavery. They had escaped, but the wandering through the wilderness gave birth to resentments of how hard life had become. They invested in the mindset that says that back in Egypt, at least we had a roof over our heads.

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So here I am, mid-step four. I know that my baseline behaviours are to regulate all of my feelings with porn and masturbation, so what can you do when that storm whips up? You can no longer turn to the one thing you do to survive.

I have found myself trying to erode my progress by letting some old thinking creep in, or turn to another crutch, like alcohol, which is a slippery slope for me, mainly because I have grown to love gin.

I am making progress, but the comfort and familiarity of my addiction and the internalised anaesthetic it gave me are like gravity. I have to do all I can to resist, which can only be accomplished by the constant choice not to return.

The trick is remembering that same familiarity took me to rock bottom. The only thing it has to offer is shame and oblivion.

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Last week a slip came. I had obsessed about how I resented the control measures I had put in place to block my compulsions, which resulted in deleting my sponsor and the accountability software. “I will be fine” at least that’s what I thought. 5 hours later, I had set up a new Instagram and followed a load of girls whose pictures ticked my boxes, 700 plus accounts to be precise. The fact I didn’t look at porn is irrelevant as the obsessive dopamine binge of misogyny and novelty landed me right back in the mire.

The way out was not to be isolated, internalise or make secrets. It’s to seek connection and communication.

To keep moving forward, progress, not perfection, and one day at a time. Whatever day of the week, it’s a good day to be sober.

I have a friend who I recently made contact with after many years. As my life spiraled out of control, I picked up the phone and said I had hit bottom. I needed to hand my life over to God. It is a part of both the programme and reconnecting to my faith. A faith with which I had a love-hate relationship.

When I look back on my life thus far, the most sustaining moments have been those of elation and ecstasy, the mountain top, the cloud inversion, the perfect sunset, or a star-filled night sky. When I reflect, I consider the years that my addiction consumed and robbed me of many of these moments.
My friend prayed with me on the phone, I cried as the shame became so heavy that I had to beg God for some rest in his presence. He went on to say that I had been chasing the counterfeit.

As someone with an affinity for watches, there is a particular piece I was obsessed over. Now, this watch was limited in production and well out of my budget. In my enthusiasm, I purchased a facsimile. In my mind, the aesthetic and feel were enough for me.
In the early stage of this hobby, the inner mechanism and legitimacy of a watch were lost on me. To this day I admire it, I wear it, but I know it’s fake, isn’t reliable, and could pack up at any time. This was not too different from the momentary shame-filled buzzes that compulsive porn and masturbation offers.

Abraham Maslow is one of the most influential psychologists of the previous century. One particular part of his work that caught my attention is his words on peak experiences. Maslow states that the mystical moments in life are vital ingredients for the human condition.

In recovery, I am aware I need the real thing. The counterfeit will no longer suffice, the illusion of comfort, fulfillment, and release from acting out is nothing more than fake highs.

At the beginning of my 30s, I was with an unhinged and scary girl, her sexual dominance and demands were difficult even for me, a sex addict, to keep up. She was attractive, intimidating, and unpredictable. Things that excited me about dating her but it also made me anxious.

Another one of her habits was taking drugs and legal highs. Back then, spice as it’s infamously known now was an over-the-counter legal and synthetic high to rival marijuana. I tried it because I would always take on a lot of personality changes if it meant I felt secure in being with someone. The way I explained my experience with spice is that it felt familiar in many ways like weed. But if you compare getting high to entering a house. Spice was like breaking into that house through the gas pipes and waiting for the police to show up. This is just another illustration of how counterfeit will never be legit or real.

In my previous post, I explained how in the Sex Addicts Anonymous 12-step programme we use a recovery tool called the 3 circles. In the outer circle exists all the good stuff, the mountains, the sea, fitness, basically any of the activities that are good for us and could lead to a peak experience.

Then comes the stuff you are not sure about, things that on their own are not a problem but a combination of factors could lead to a slip, such as being hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. These go into the middle circle, for example of mine, mixing alcohol and being in a night-out setting can make me recall the encounters of past exploits in a way that makes me crave the “good old days”

Then comes the inner circle, these behaviours we define as acting out and having to refrain from, for me pornography in any form, I will if left to go my own way have no control over barriers and escalate to harder material every time. In my case it’s like getting drunk and not having an off switch, I could easily lose my sexual sobriety on some porn binge or as a single guy seeking a one-nighter. In recovery, you avoid the inner circle stuff by focussing on the outer circle behaviours as substitutes for the old.

To go through this exercise yourself you can use this resource. – 3 Circles Worksheet

The spiritual awakening that the programme helps to build has helped me reconnect with my faith. In a way, I can now encounter peak experiences with a song, a reading, a prayer, and just about anything that means getting in nature and putting my tiny self with my worries into the scale of the world, universe, and that which trumps fear, Love.

The challenge I make to myself, and to you, is to get outside of the routine that boxes you in, chase the right kind of highs, the sunsets, the mountains, the shared experiences, whatever gives you those moments that sustain your will and enthusiasm for life.

Work these into your program of living and you won’t go far wrong.

I recently completed the work for step two of the program which reads:

“We came to believe a power greater than ourselves, could restore us to sanity”.

Woven into the 12 steps is the language of the spiritual concept of a higher power, the most widely perceived name for such an entity or being is God. Or as we read, the God of our understanding.

In the past, my understanding of God was a stepfather figure, all about rules, and Jesus represented some stepbrother, who tries to smooth things over with the old man. 

As flawed as that sounds, it is the theology of many believers, it gets caught and taught in churches worldwide without any real scrutiny or challenge. 

In the past, my desire for faith was proven incomplete and probably more rooted in theoretical thinking and less part of a spiritual awakening that can change life for the better. 

The potential that’s discovered by allowing the control-hungry addict to connect with a power greater than themself is not to be underestimated. Power to lean on and surrender to. Someone to call on in times of great trouble and need.

My higher power fits with my faith in Jesus, God, or Holy Spirit. Not to a theoretical version that gets preached about differently by everyone who professes to be a believer. But to my experiential understanding of God. Now, I don’t claim to know or be enlightened enough or be qualified to tell others about this subject, but I know now that when I pray these words, there is an existential gravitas to their meaning:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can and equip me with the knowledge to know the difference. 

I am reaching out to the one who claims to be the most high. So as far as higher powers go, I know I am pursuing one bigger than my ego and problems.

Now, such a being would practice what they preach, so I can’t imagine they have a problem with not taking credit, people misunderstanding or relating to them in less than conventional ways. I guess I’m saying to take the baggage out of the God bits. Sometimes we may need to accept that we may need to unlearn some information we have harboured in some form of resentment against a higher power we claim to not believe in.

How does my higher power, or the God of my understanding show up?

Quite simply the evidence will be the difference in my life, my more rounded identity, and the progress I make every day if I am willing to approach the program with an equal measure of both faith and a mind to be willing to work the steps.

One of my more recent steps forward in this area of living has come by truthfully learning the lessons of step one, I cannot do any of this alone. So in recovery, my higher power presents itself in those nearest and dearest to me, my brothers in fellowship, nature, music, meditation, and prayers. From the unconditional love of a sister or my partner or the teary-eyed empathy of the therapist, helping me to unpack my life’s most traumatic memories, the sponsor who picks up the call in the middle of the night, to offer some illumination in the witching hour and even my puppy who waits religiously for my return from work, just to spend a few moments going loopy with excitement.

Our addiction isolates and traps but recovery does the opposite. To sum it up in 3 words, it is a connection to others.

Our unique understanding and journey through life means we would each have our different experiences from which to envision or personify the God of our understanding, and as a non-religious fellowship, we need not get distracted from how we are bound to one another, mostly in our desire to be sexually sober. It’s what binds us that makes us strong.

I connect with my higher power a lot through nature and music, sometimes both. My pursuit of the vastness of nature and the way I find a home for the night on a hill or a mountainside can often be spiritual, there is no other word for it.

In the moments where guilt, regret, and terror can overcome me like a wave, I find comfort in knowing that as sure as the sun sets and rises, time keeps rolling on.

I believe that what you focus on your magnify, it’s why we start the days in recovery focusing on our gratitude. Similarly, if we embrace our resentments like some old friend, we generally find the other old familiars are not far behind. Just waiting to see if we can come out to play one more time.

Sometimes that higher power can come by simply making yourself accountable, no amount of prayer, music, reading, or even meetings would help me kick my slippery behaviours alone.

I decided that I couldn’t carry on with the tightrope approach I mentioned in my previous post, at least for now, I signed up for some screen-sharing accountability software. Which sends a daily report to my sponsor. In laying down control, I get back the healthy benefits of technology.

One of the readings that form a template for meetings is taking the time to read the section “How it works”. It says…

 “If you have decided you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it, then you are ready to take certain steps.”

After taking some time away from writing about recovery I found myself settling into my new group. SAA offers sex addicts a program of recovery and a fellowship of encouragement and support to those who wish to live a life of recovery. I now have a sponsor who I converse with regularly and who is helping me to work on the first steps and set off on my journey of sobriety.

It’s one thing to know the steps and another to work the steps. This last week I went through my first step with my sponsor, this included a detailed summary of how my sex addiction made my life unmanageable and I took the view that rigorous honesty was going to hurt, but I needed to shed light on my deepest secrets so that the hold they have on me might be loosed.

As I sat there reading through my list of how my addiction would manifest in my day-to-day, I shared rituals such as screen grabbing hundreds of pictures of girls on social media like Instagram, building spank bank folders hidden deep in my phone, if that sounds a little off normal, I then went on to discuss how I would collect pictures of ex-girlfriends and find pornographic images that would be look-alikes of them, if the relationship ended particularly bad the types of images I would associate would be quite extreme and I am ashamed to say by extreme, I mean disgusting.

One way that my addiction would compel me was in the different ways I could find myself masturbating, at times porn just wasn’t interesting, this was before all the high-speed sites we have now.

My step one also helped me see the sex in the sex addict until now I had thought it was mostly porn but as I took my first bit of inventory, I shared how I would lie to new girlfriends about my sexual experience to get them to do certain things as manufactured “first times” it was just to get what I wanted, I would also take viagra regularly to allow me to have as much sex as I could, (at 25 my ED was likely due to high porn dependency)

The porn trip had taken me so far out of the sexual template that I find living with the knowledge of my previous viewing and downloading habits almost unbearable at times. Long story short, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I am a sex addict and my life had become unmanageable.

So after this meeting with my sponsor, I felt led to share some of this with the group later that day. Having completed step one I felt encouraged and that I had unloaded some of my heaviest secrets.

When I got home however my happiness was short-lived, I immediately found myself triggered as soon as I settled down. It was as though my addiction was sitting in the passenger seat and was saying “so you are brave now, wait till I get you on your own”.

It was almost like my father when I was very little, I could remember the times he would grit his teeth and you knew it meant that when we got home he would fly off the handle.

Suddenly, my guard was down, I felt crap and Instagram gave me the gateway drug of endless young attractive girls with pages of pictures, it may not be porn but the setting would almost always end in the rabbit hole of hardcore internet porn. 

Instagram, which is heavily algorithm-driven will only show you more and more of what you become slippery with, it’s a terrible thing to have in your “middle circle” if like me you are a scroller and a clicker.

While my first step work was triggering it has forced me to up my game with my recovery.

To give you some insight into the first step have a look at the link below. https://saa-recovery.org/literature/first-step-to-recovery-a-guide-to-working-the-first-step/

This program is one of intense personal analysis and a deep commitment to working on your character is required. It isn’t about perfection and beating yourself up, but it is evidenced by the progress you make. Mistakes need a debrief, what was the trigger? what could I have done? What should I have done? What measures could I put in place as a future contingency?

Ultimately my biggest takeaway so far is you have to truly admit you cannot do it alone, it’s not something you can grizz out with sheer bloody-mindedness.

So here is a bit of help in the form of a digital tool. I have a 12-step journal but don’t connect with writing things by hand. That may not always be the case. I foresee Step 4 will be a mile-long scroll for me and I believe our way is to do that by hand.

I use this app which is designed for those in 12-step programs.

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Google App: https://bit.ly/2QDgiiM

Apple App: https://apple.co/2rMlgRM

The app is great for self-reflection, I use it as part of my end-of-day routine. There is a free version and a paid version that allows you to connect with online sponsors but this I would say is secondary to getting involved with a group, you can use it to connect with your sponsor if they are interested in integrating an app into the way the program is applied.

The cost for the full app is £11.99 every 3 months, if I were to sponsor someone one day, when ready, I would have the cost of my use and that of my sponsee. So that would be £23.98 a quarter, without sounding like I am on a commission that equates to a few coffees these days, but each according to their means would be a great way to go about this, or pay for the first year and have a reduced renewal fee.

Whatever you do, don’t go it alone, start with what you are thankful for. Take a few minutes to clear your mind and admit or remind yourself of your powerlessness.

Get to a meeting, pick up the book, make some calls and take it all one step at a time.

https://saauk.info/en/meetings

This weekend was about two things, firstly starting back at work with a new job on Monday and the second was coming to the decision that twelve-step recovery is the way for me to go.

On Friday I had a therapy session and I felt like it was a good day, I had reached two milestones of acceptance in my recovery journey, firstly I finally felt that my pain and my past sufferings are not things I can erase or run from but are truly a part of me, the good, the bad the ugly, all part of the same me and there is no burying the pain in a box in an attic anymore, not an option! Secondly, I accepted the reality that this struggle against pornography is going to be one I face for the rest of my days. Everyone has their battles and this one is mine. As much as I feel like Frodo about my quest, I accept my fate.

I decided that I will own this! I will carry the knowledge of the depths to which my addiction took me, for the rest of my days, but I will no longer be consumed by it.

As the evening rolled on, my time was spent researching accountability apps, web filters, and apps for counting sobriety days.

It turns out that my post about the bubble wrap or the tightrope is a fairly accurate appraisal of the situation. The marketplace offers solutions that either lock down everything, blocking even helpful videos on porn addiction, these were filtered out just for containing the P-word in the title, and on the other end of the spectrum, it would be just too easy to get around the parameters if someone wanted to.

My thoughts turned to the day counting of one’s sobriety streak which seems to be the primary focus of NoFappers. As I set up my meagre 2-day streak on an app, I felt almost miserable that the 40-odd days following the revelation of my dark secret so quickly turned to court the galleries of “glamour” which soon jumped to hard-core videos. Sure this was more “normal” porn but I know better now, porn for me is no longer an option in any form.

I decided to turn in and went to sleep, unfortunately for me, I woke up midway through the night, and there it was, the monster under the bed.

The day, I reached out to a could-be sponsor saying I am ready to commit to the program, I had ordered my recovery bible, the big green book, and my voices of recovery readings. Had a great session and felt some real miles on the road to recovery, And later that very same night, here I was! Bump, a pothole, and then click click followed by despair, shame, and pain. I didn’t get back to sleep and the following day was one of deep misery.

In another episode of Elementary and the recovering Sherlock was about to earn his one-year chip and well, just take a look yourself.

The tears rolled down my face watching the TV show again, I have always been a Sherlock Holmes fanboy, beholding a hero so vulnerable and flawed yet so brilliant.

Then it hit me. Step One!

We admitted we were powerless over addictive sexual behaviour – that our lives had become unmanageable.

This journey of recovery isn’t linear, it isn’t a movie nor does it have a soundtrack. Being angry and feeling sorry for myself is not going to help anyone.

My higher power is going to be a little more tangible to me as I believe in God. Not in the way that I may have before but in a more meaningful existential way.

I thought of Jesus and his temptation, it came after his baptism, 40 days in the desert, no food and absolutely threaders, and here was me folding like a cheap suit. Two lessons I take from this are, firstly I am not Jesus, obviously, and secondly, neither is any other human on this planet.