HOLY FUCK! I’m so tired. Lack of sleep? Is it the anti-depressants? WTF?
I had a dream I was as the house where I grew up. A stranger was trying to buy my car but I didn’t want to. My dad was also trying to get me to sell the car. But I liked it—it was a good car—I didn’t want to sell it. I was uncomfortable.
I wanted to go back to the southwest U.S. before the snow started. I hated the snow. My sister wanted me to stay because of a relative and he wanted to see me. But I reminded her that he was dead. Then it became clear that she wanted me to stay because she missed me or something.
MY FIRST COSA MEETING (Codependents of Sex Addicts)
So I went to a COSA meeting last night. The format was similar to the Anon meetings (SAA, SLAA, etc). I arrived early, but one woman was there, making coffee and she directed me to the correct room for the COSA meeting.
I was staring at random photos on the wall when a guy called over to me from the coffee area. He knew my name and I recognized him from a past SAA meeting, although I couldn’t remember which one. I don’t remember his name, either.
He called over to me. “The meeting’s over here!”
“Oh, ok,” I said, and began to gather my things.
The woman near him asked if I’m here for COSA and I said Yes. I was already in the correct room; that is when I realized that there is an SAA meeting right next door to the COSA meeting!
I told the man that I was here for COSA, and he joked, “Oh, are you going to complain about yourself?”
I gave a laugh (forced, to be polite), turned away back to the photos on the wall and did not respond. It hurt a little that he said that. It gave me the impression that he thought COSA meetings are places where the wives gather to complain about their sex-addicted husbands—as if it’s merely a silly “bitch session!”
I was hurt because I felt that COSA is going to be a meaningful 12-step program, just like SAA has been for me. I am still feeling a lot of pain and anger at the way my ex-husband treated me sexually. It is not my intention to bitch about him. It is my intention to use COSA to heal my wounds. It’s about MY healing. And I finally feel like the time is right, for healing from the marriage and my sexual experiences with him, as well as taking a good look at other past relationships, where I didn’t particularly want to have sex, but I went along with whatever they wanted me to do sexually.
For the most part, I tend to view sex as something that is dirty and must be tolerated. It is only in sexual fantasies and scenarios that I imagine in my mind, where sex is something lovely. Those fantasies fueled my passion for cyber sex.
But when I met those cyber sex partners in person for real sex, the fantasy was destroyed. I didn’t want to have sex, anymore. But I did it anyway because I was afraid they would get angry and violent if I didn’t do what they wanted. I might as well just fake it and get it over with, so they can leave.
AM I STILL A SEX ADDICT?
Am I both an addict and a codependent of sex addicts? None of my previous boyfriends had gone through therapy or treatment. If they had addictions or problems, they were unchecked or untreated. I will probably never know if any of them were sex addicts. I can only guess.
It seems weird to think of my ex-husband as a sex addict, because he was so nice, cheerful, funny, a great teacher, and just an all-around cool guy. But I cannot ignore his constant begging, guilt trips and pressure to have sex with him.
The only time we had sex in the [2 years of] marriage was when I finally broke down to his peas for sex. He accused me of controlling him, by refusing sex.
I have a lot of hurt feelings from the relationship. I remember crying during sex—I’d turn my head away so he wouldn’t see; and I’d always fake my pleasure.* I doubt I’ve ever had an orgasm in my life. And I’ve slept with 32 people!
*It wasn’t like that when we first met. I jumped quickly to sex (as usual) and I thought I was enjoying it. But a month after we were married—by the way, we just got legally married so he could get on my insurance benefits through my job; I was in a sort of care-giver role—Anyway, I regretted being married and was angry that I felt trapped in the marriage and that I could no longer flirt with other guys.
So I’ll be attending COSA meetings, as well as SAA, and maybe the occasional SLAA meeting, and I also go to a support group for Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse.
I’m a sex addict… AND a codependent of sex addicts… all in one! It’s one big party in my brain.
RANDOM RANT ABOUT JOB
I’m sick of staring at a computer for a living. I wish I could work in nature, but not animal testing; and not dissecting animals. I want to help—not hurt—other beings.
FEELING SHAME FOR NOT BEING MORE SEXY
When I was 19 and living with [a boyfriend] in [a midwestern state], I entered his room and found him masturbating in the dark. I instantly felt very ashamed of myself, thinking that he didn’t love me or sexually want me anymore. I assumed I was a bad person. But those thoughts were pushed away and buried withing 1-2 seconds.
My next reaction was to act sexy and be turned on at the sight of him masturbating, and then try to have sex with him. I probably didn’t particularly want to have sex, but I wasn’t conscious of that. This was all happening subconsciously and I didn’t even know I had feelings or doubts about the situation.
For the most part, I never really got anything out of any of my past sexual encounters. Sex often bores me.
CHECKING IN, WITH HOW I’M DOING, PHYSICALLY
Right now, I feel tired, very slight headache. Sick of staring at the computer. Eyes have been so dry since moving into the new building at work. Nose occasionally feels runny. Eyes slightly sore. Tired… drained energy… But I’m paranoid about gaining weight, so I don’t want to necessarily eat food to get more energy.
The health clinic at work said to cut the anti-depressant pills in half and just take one of those each day. Also hooked me up with a psychologist who can tell me if I’m bipolar or not. I’d be ashamed to have that kind of mental illness similarity or connection with my mom. [I’d heard rumors that she might have been bipolar; I never found out for sure.] I really don’t like her, and I want to have nothing to do with her.
Music can influence me and put me back in the mood to act out.
Middle circle is the one to stay away from. I constantly fail to realize how important the outer circle is.
Still looking for a sense of identity and self.
Write down all the things I’m grateful for, because thinking about happy things can create a domino effect that, in the end, helps me be more happy.