...looks like I got my first follower on my journal/blog. That's kinda exciting. When I started the journal online, I knew the possibility was there that someone or many someones could end reading what I wrote. I'm still a little emotionally mixed about that. But as a recovery addict, I felt that sharing myself with others would be beneficial. If others wish to make comments or ask questions, please do. I will try to be honest with my answers. At times that may mean that my inner addict may answer and be too harsh. If that is the case, hopefully I can grow from it.
It's roughly 6:20 in the morning and I feel pretty good. I've already done my meditation book readings for the day. I went down to Starbucks and got mochas for myself and my wife. She's heading off to work in a few minutes. She got up around 5am this morning to do her three pages of journalling and then get ready for work. Kudos to her. I'm hoping that I have the strength to do that when it is called upon. I'm feeling my inner strength building as I continue on my recovery program.
I just hit a writer's block and loss any train of thought. Not feeling too much like writing about recovery this morning and that is fine. So what can I write about. I hear my wife rumbling around the house and I know that makes me a little nervous. Especially with me doing this writing. I'm scared shitless about her finding these pages and reading them. She knows I'm doing this writing but doesn't know where to find it. I actually erase the blogger address in my computer's history after I finish with my posts. That's my addict not wanting to share and make sure that part of me is seperate. I understand that, but right now, today, I still feel that need.
As I wrote the other day, I'm heading down to California to see some of my family. I'm very excited about the trip. I get to play some golf with my brother and a friend. But I'm also desiring to talk to my brother about his memories of my Dad and his relationship with him. His thoughts of Dad's alcoholism and how it affected all of us. Growing up, our family didn't share much, so I'm welcoming this opportunity. I don't think that I will say anything about me being a Sex Addict. No one wants to hear that right now. But I do think they will welcome the chance to spend part of the day talking about family.
I didn't sleep well last night. I fell asleep on the couch in the living room watching some tv. Woke up about two hours later, cold. I went down the hallway to go to bed. I went to the bathroom first. I had to turn on the light as I'm not a big fan of taking a piss in the dark. After I finished with that, I headed further down the hall to bed. The bed was cold. And our dog, Mookie got up and roamed around a little. Most times when he does that I have to help him back into bed. So I won't allow myself to fall asleep and end up waiting for him to come back down the hallway. This morning though, he found the strength to jump back into bed and make himself comfortable next to his mom. Me, on the other hand, just tossed and turned for quite a while. Then before I know, my wife is getting up to do her morning three pages of writing. After she was done, I chatted with her for a minute and she asked me to get her a mocha. So I made the trip to Starbucks. I didn't need much of a push to do that, as I usually make a trip there in the morning for myself.
So the rest of my morning looks kinda busy. I've got to take a shower. Then I'm off to Les Schwab for two new tires on my car. And then I've got an appointment with the eye doctor. I'm really hoping the doctor can find something easily curable with my eye. It's very irritating to me to have to constantly put eye drops in it. And psychologically it plays with my mind. Every few hours as I put eye drops in it, I end up thinking of what I did to make it happen.
About five years ago I went to see a prostitute. My wife was out of town and I needed a fix. So off I go. I get to her place. It's pretty much the typical prostitute place. Sparsely furnished. A little messy. We sit down on the floor in her living room, on a blanket. I've already given her money, as you typically have to pay before you get any kind of service, unless they know you. We then get undressed. She plays with my cock and lets me play with her breasts. She was not a very attractive girl. Overweight a little. But more than anything her personality wasn't exciting me too much. So I'm having trouble getting very stimulated. I see that she has a few toys on the blanket. I ask her if she would use one of the dildos on me. She says sure and tells me to relax. She then takes the dildo and puts it in my ass, sliding it in and out slowly. It felt kinda nice but I really wasn't sure. She continued to stroke my cock until it came. No climax that was earth shattering or anything. Just a release.
I didn't really give it much thought at the moment, but the dildo was not covered with a condom. My crazy addict mind thought the prostitute would have taken care of any cleanliness or sanitary issues of her sexual toys. Boy, that is one crazy thought. Then within two weeks my head is exploding, feeling as if it was on fire inside. A pain unlike any I had felt before. And my left eye was severely bloodshot. I could do nothing to get rid of the bloodshot in eye. The eye drops I used weren't doing a damn thing. Many people asked what happened to my eye. I lied and said it was allergies. But my eyes had never looked anywhere close to this, even with the worse of an allergy.
So I went to my doctor, who referred me to a nuerologist. They took an MRI and the left side of my brain was very colorful. Very red. The right side looked completely different. Without knowing anything about what the brain should look like, I could see something was up. The neurologist came in and talked about some sort of infection and inflamation and gave me some steriods to take for a month. I was to follow up with my regular doctor. No consultation to an eye doctor was given. I followed up with my regular doctor. I never confessed to either doctor what I had done to cause this crazy condition. So I was not a good patient at all, not helping my recovery from this. But my doctor asked how I felt. Since I felt quite a bit better I said I felt good. My eye still was extremely red. My doctor said there was nothing I could do other than use eyedrops. So, here it is, roughly five years later. And I'm off to hopefully get this addressed.
I'm seeing this visit to this doctor today and the visit the other day to the doctor, as a sign that my higher power is helping me. Giving me the strength to take back control of my life. To give up the powerlessness that this addiction has spread into my life. Again, I don't know where this journey will end or the road it will take, but it feels so much better than the uncontrollability and craziness of the past 7/8 years.
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