July 15

What the hell am I doing? I got an absolutely beautiful room last night at a great price. I believed that the desk clerk gave me a deal. Somehow I went right back into my sex addiction and thought it would be go invite her to come by the room after she got off of work. Damnit, I have got to work through my emotions in a much better way.

She never ended up coming by but I got a definite rush from the thought of her coming by as I was anticipating a knock on the door and wondering where it would lead. All the physical reactions were there for me. Pulsating heart, high anxiety, excitement in my groin, the desire to have an orgasm, building emotions. I kept myself busy by reading “Eleven Minutes” by Paulo Cuelho. A story about a prostitute in Europe. So yes I definitely was reading a soft porn book. By the time I went to sleep around midnight I had masterbated while fantasizing about my acupuncturist.

I woke up around 2:30 in the morning thinking of some words from a Harry Chapin song, “We talked cause talking tells you things. Sometimes you don’t know what you’re feeling til all the words run out”. It just kept running through my head. I realized in the darkness of a motel room that I must pour out my emotional thoughts. I must write them down. I must share them. I’ve got to do this every day. I don’t have to shock people and try to be someone I’m not but just be real and share myself. That is the heart of my life’s problems. I want to keep everything inside. I don’t want to express emotions. I’ve lost myself in this inability to share.

When I woke up in the later in the morning and rolled out of bed, some more words from another Harry Chapin song rang through my head, “Sometimes I get this crazy dream and I just take off in my car. I can travel long near 10,000 miles and still stay where I am”. I’ve always felt comfortable driving away from my problems. I can pick almost any time in my life when I’ve had adversity. Running away and starting anew was my response. Typing this I find myself getting teary eyed as I wonder if I’m running again, this time away from my wife. I don’t believe so but I think that doubt or self-doubt is natural

I also wondered when those words were going through my head this morning, “why do I need to get to California so fast? Instead of driving away from my problems perhaps I should stop whenever the urge hit and take time to do some journaling. It’s time that I start a different approach to my life. I need, no I must, start taking time for me, relax and explore myself further.”

So here I am sitting in my truck in a parking lot in Medford, typing this. I had to go into Fred Meyers to get a power charger adapter for my laptop as the battery charge had died. But I needed to do this. I started my typing at Starbucks, then the battery died I realized I wouldn’t have any power in my laptop all day. That was unacceptable so I went into Freddies.