I once heard an AA speaker say, “Alcohol could never have done so much TO me if it didn’t do so much FOR me.” A light went on when I heard that, because it’s certainly true for me and my lust. When I honestly look at what lust used to do for me, it makes a powerful argument for going back to it.
- Feeling a bit uneasy with life? Lust’ll fix that in minutes - just take me away!
- Uncertain what to do next? Let's play with lust for a while and that uncertainty goes away! (Along with the memory of important things to do)
- Hurting emotionally from some slight? Lust’ll make me feel better almost immediately!
- Feeling alone? Fantasy and lust will fill my life with (imaginary) people!
- Anxious about work? A few hours on the Internet will make all anxieties go away!
- Wife too demanding? That fantasy partner will never demand anything I don’t want!
It was always amazing. Lust was the immediate, always-available, always-works, go-to solution for any of my life’s problems. It always came through. I always felt marvelous while lost in that world. Nothing else I’ve ever found - including recovery - was that reliable and that fulfilling. But....(Really BIG, HUGE “BUT”!)....it always created wreckage too.
- Take me away from life? Life goes on without me. Things happen that I’m not part of and have no input to.
- No longer uncertain about what to do next? Well, lust long enough, and some of those unattended tasks turn into disasters.
- Feeling better in lust? Those raw emotions fester inside, turning into deep resentments that colour my attitude toward everybody and everything.
- Life filled with imaginary people? No room for real people, for the deep satisfaction of living life with others.
- Work anxieties relieved by a bit of lust? Until the boss comes in with a pink slip and a police officer.
- Got a great fantasy partner? And, ta-da, you lose the real one.
Yeah. As good as it was, it was also just as reliable in being terrible. Lust could never have done so much TO me if it didn’t do so much FOR me.
And as I sign off today, I'm amazed to see that, once again, I’ve gone another month without lust. None at all. None of those times when I feel my guts zooming upwards in response to some thought or image, when the physiological chemistry of my body starts to take over my rational mind. A month without lust was something I could never have done on my own. Thank you God, and thank you Sexaholics Anonymous.