January 7, 2010 (psychologist suggests Asperger’s Syndrome)

Does porn affect how I view relationships?


What I see in porn:

  • Beautiful, thin women, who are loved and adored by men.
  • Easy to jump to new porn if old gets boring.
  • No one gets hurt emotionally and people are having fun.

What is reality?

  • Woman is used by guys for their pleasure.
  • Sex is not real love (this kind of sex).
  • Porn shows a lack of commitment.


[Note: I was seeing two different people for help: One was the psychologist since March 2009, and the other is a specialist in sex addiction. I keep them separate in my journals by calling one “psychologist” and the other “sex addiction therapist.”]

My psychologist gave me a list of “famous people with Asperger’s Syndrome.” It has people who’ve done amazing contributions to society, like Albert Einstein, George Washington, Henry Ford, and Bill Gates.

And you know the point of lists like these is so people like me with the syndrome can point to it and say, “Ah-ha! See? Here are famous people with Asperger’s and look at all the good things they’ve done!” So my self esteem doesn’t feel so mortally wounded at the news that I have Asperger’s.

But where is the list of those with Asperger’s who are completely dumb-asses? (or any mental illness, for that matter)

What would THAT list look like, eh?

How about the guy who spends 10 minutes pushing against the door that says, “Pull?” or the woman who crashes her car into a freeway sign post because she was doing her nails, talking on her cellphone and smoking a cigarette, all at 85 mph?

No. That list doesn’t even exist. No need to read about the dumb-ass exploits of the human race. We’d be even more depressed. Yes, it’s best to aim for high expectations.

On a side note, where the hell is MY genius talent? Like the dude who designed a flaming guitar for KISS! Is mine in music, perhaps? Or writing?


Pink 5-month chip, baby, yeah!


Jenn had also mentioned that she thinks I should write a book. I certainly have been thinking about it. I guess I thought that only “famous people” write books. But I guess that people get famous—relatively—by writing. If I do write, I might use a fake name or something.


Alan, an older guy who’s been in the program for a long while, says that after being in the program, he’s learned to recognize when people start to have serenity in their faces.

He sees it in mine. Though, I have trouble seeing my own progress and happiness—I guess I’m the last one to notice my own well-being. But he’s been around for a while. Maybe I’ll trust him. Yeah, that’s right, bitches! I gots the serenity, mother fuckers!


Jenn started a journal. She’s also taking off one month from dating any guys. She says I inspire her. [she’s 19 years old]

I don’t really understand how someone with suicidal thoughts and poop-for-brains can possibly inspire someone else to do good and change her life for the better, but hey, that’s cool either way. I’m just tickled pink I had a chance just now to say, “poop for brains.” Ha!


Yesterday was the last appointment with the psychologist I’ve been seeing since March 2009. It came up in conversation that she still doesn’t understand some things about me, like why I have so much hatred for my dad. She and I also don’t view my job in the same way.

I’m sad that she still didn’t understand me, after so many months of therapy. But I think she doesn’t really understand sex addiction, so I’m  hoping that this new sex addiction therapist will be able to understand where I’m coming from.


I have a little “garden” area in my office. It’s pretty, but I do not sit facing it. Yesterday, I moved the rubber plant on top of the cabinet, which is in plain view of where I sit and face. I was going to take it home, but I like seeing it there. It’s a symbol of, and outlet for, my spiritual connection with nature, plants, and trees. It kinda brings more peace and serenity to my hell-hole of an office.

I’d like to have a pear tree some day.


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