Day 789
If we grow up thinking one thing, then life and learning teach us that we were not correct, does that invalidate our life up to that point? Of course not. But it seems to me that this is a core problem with making changes. People who convert from one religion to another must fight through tremendous internal pressures, not to mention the angst of their friends and families, to put one way of life behind them and commit to another.
This conflict is not lost on the sex addict even though there is no changing one good thing for another. The sex addict must find a path from that which is killing them and others into a world that will reject them for where they've been, instead of welcoming and encouraging them for what they are overcoming. I do not believe there is another 12 Step program as critical to the members as those that provide safe fellowships for what society says is the worst of the worst; people like me.
When I was in the darkest days of wrestling with the traps of my compulsions and the hopes of recovery, the contrast between good and evil was most provocative. That period between recognizing I couldn't stop on my own and accepting the help of other addicts was my valley of death. I knew I could not go back to acting out, and I did not believe I could ever find peace in recovery. It was just too much to accept. It was in those days that I was in the most danger of hurting myself.
Even now, I refer to those thoughts and plans as 'self-destruction' or 'ending me.' To be clear, the thoughts of killing myself were intense; I knew that the only thing that kept me alive on some days was my cowardice. I've since learned it was more likely my Higher Power, but that's a discussion for another time.
I was trolling Facebook this morning and found a post about September being Suicide Prevention Month, and many memories of my dancing with death came flooding back. I don't know anything about the organization that put this out — The Depression Project — but their infographic just screamed at me from my screen. The three phrases they keyed on simplified the fight for my life for too long, and how these thoughts overlap to cause the sufferer to enter the danger zone still rings true:
"I am alone."
Of course, I was. No one knew what I was doing, except the people I was doing it with, and they only knew their small part. And they knew nothing of how my soul was dying.
"I am a burden."
Ya think? I was spending thousands of dollars that we could not afford on an addiction I could not control. And I was a burden on the very people I claimed to care about, and I just kept making everything worse for everyone.
"Things will never get better."
Well, there was always that one step that I thought would make things better for everybody. I am so thankful that I found 12 Steps before taking that one that could not be taken back.
I have known too many people who have taken their own lives. At least a dozen of my graduating class in high school committed suicide before our 30th reunion. Another half dozen friends or co-workers have taken that step. Military members of my family have been to too many funerals of soldiers who died in battle far removed from the battlefields of their service.
I used to ask myself:
"What were they thinking?? What was their last thought?"
I don't have to ask anymore.
I am grateful for the voices that called me to the light of recovery. I have never been sorry for surviving my darkness. And I am grateful for my counselor that got through to me with questions and thoughts that my addiction-addled brain prevented me from conjuring on my own.
Research indicates that the more people a person knows who have killed themselves, the easier it is to think about it as a legit alternative to living and working on their problems. My heart breaks for those who believe their lives have been de-legitimized by bad decisions, bad breaks, or mental incapacities that make them unable to see beyond their pain.
Between my sexual addiction and my struggles with depression, I am not guaranteed a life free from revisiting such thoughts again, but I like my chances. At least for today.
–JR
Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
I can take or leave it if I please
That game of life is hard to play
–Michael Altman, “Suicide is Painless (Theme from M*A*S*H)”
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