Tag: In The Rooms

I know. Very cliche. But, I am a product of my generation.

I am a person in long-term harm reduction from many things, but most notably of current ChemSex. I first got into serious long-term recovery on December 29, 2009. Since then, I’ve learned a lot about my patterns, my past, my passions and my personality. I’m a storyteller, connecter and artists. I use words and pictures to heal, inspire, express, create, learn, grow, and love.

This is my story.

I feel like my life has been slowing down to now, like the winding down of a ferris wheel after being shut off. I’ve heard it said that if you stay around long enough, the fog starts to clear. I’ve started to experience this sensation in new ways over the past weeks and months. I have enough time & space behind my active chemsex using days that some things are beginning to click.

I’ve come to accept that music plays a lot in my story. Over the years, I’ve used music to soothe, inspire, connect, heal, cry, laugh and tell my story. Likewise, I’ve written & told parts of my stories enough that I’ve started to remember that the more I talk about this, the more I heal. As with many times in my life, that’s an understatement of grand proportion. But let’s park that for now and continue.

I’ve been working more deeply on some of my shit to the point where a journal is of import. I struggle with writing and have come to accept that I express my thoughts better when I type. I’m also more likely to read it. And, the Universe is more likely to use my story to help someone – much like the life stories of people like Phil, John, Scott, Mike, Cathy, Ed, Phil, Marc, Lisa, Matthew, Mr. Rogers, RJ, Rick, Terry, Jeff, Jerry and Brandon. And the many of anonymous men whose name I may have known but have long sense forgotten.

I have a pattern. I have a type. I have a ritual. And as the fog lifts, I begin to see the ways in which that ritual has become embedded in every fiber of my physical body. I feel it in my breath. I feel it in the tightness in my chest. I feel it in the tapping of my feet and the gentle rocking of my body. With each motion or movement, I soothe my pain. I soothe my grief. I soothe my fear.

Today I noticed the ritual. Where it showed up. How is showed up. Driving. Under a mild influence of weed. Yes, there it is. Welcome to my life of moderation.

My drug choice has always been sex and meth. I used other substances as substitutes but nothing I’ve used gave me the sense of false sense of connection & freedom that I’ve longed for. It’s the story of my little boy, coming of age at 52, when I couldn’t experience what I needed to blossom in my 2nd chapter. Now that I’m in my 5th chapter, I am gaining perspective.

I started with alcohol until that no longer did the trick. I hid behind my prudish Mr Goody Two Shoes, which was just a mask I had learned to wear well. Keep them away. Don’t let them close. You will lose them. Again. And Again.

Ok, I’m tired. And that’s ok. Today is about self care. About a first step. About love, trust, hope, joy and faith. The greatest of these is love.

#Netflix
#StayStrong
#AJR

I felt like this week was slowed down to now – as best as I’m able today.

I’m learning through this ChemSex work and reading that my brain is wired to certain patterns, or templates. I’ve also learned to listen to what my body and mind are telling me this week.

I found myself tempted to play with some old behaviors and patterns. My story with sexual compulsion and acting out started with online gay sex BBS (bulletin board systems) in the early 80’s. With a dial up modem. I got access to an entire world of sexual opportunities and expressions, which would continue well into the age of the internet. For me, meeting guys from online was always a secret – part of my corporate compartmentalization.

As I write that, I am struck that “corporal” means “of the body.” My life in corporate America was literally about compartmentalizing my “professional” life (my mind) and my life as an addict (my body). And my spirit shrank and was kept locked away with the guilt and shame heaped on my years of brainwashing and religious fervor.

I’ve learned we are only as sick as our secrets. I’m also learning that I have nothing to be ashamed of about who I am or what I do with my penis or my butthole. Rather than pushing this feeling away or covering up with darkness, I’m bringing it out into the light.

What am I learning from this?

I like the excitement of the online chase. I find it easier to express myself in written form – so messaging, more so even that texting or IMing, has always been away for me to portray a version of myself. I’m able to approach and be approached. I’m able to express and explore fantasies and worlds I would be hesitant to discuss in person, even with my most intimate of partners. In fact, I prided myself on the level of clarity and identification I had with my narrowly defined likes and attractions. I am a product of the gay culture that worships the body beautiful.

The first step is admitting we have a problem. So there are several first steps here!

Today, I find that entire “hunt and chase” tiresome and yet also intriguing. It’s very easy to slip back into patterns that lead to other patterns, that eventually lead me to my outer circle. Or my inner circle. I could never quite remember the specifics of the SAA circle of behaviors that might be signs of acting out in ways that aren’t consistent with my values and beliefs.

Sometimes when I become aroused, I get scared. To be honest, it hasn’t happened in awhile. I need to be careful how I handle the genie in the bottle. Because he is popping his head up more often.

Exciting. And Scary.

I realized that in these routines and rituals, there is brain chemistry going on. I’m getting or wanting to get a hit of brain boosts – dopamine, or serotonin or some combination. The point being, how can I create my own hit of brain boosts, and do so with consent from my partner and now husband? In the past, part of the allure for me was the anonymity, the infidelity, the wanting what shouldn’t be had.

Today, I can make choices that have more integrity. That is both scary and hopeful.

I came to another realization about the self-care ritual that was hidden in my ritual of “getting ready for a night of partying.” I’d tidy the house, make sure the dishes were done. I maintained trimmed pubes, shaved balls and ass. I cleaned myself inside and out. That ritual was an important initiation. It also helped my accept or deal with the “messiness” of gay sex. The more I used, the easier it was to accept – but I still went through the ritual. I was once accused of being a “dirty bottom” – so I lived to never be “that” bottom again.

Today, I have a Sunday ritual of self-care that includes a long hot bath, grooming my beard, and as needed, my pubes. I sometimes find myself being aroused by going through this ritual, especially the pubic grooming. But today, I focused on the self care, sensuality, and love for my intimate partner expressed in this intimate ritual.

Ok, I timeboxed this blog entry. I’ll come back and reread later. Just wanted to get these thoughts down for the day.

Part of my new ritual.

Just for today.