DEMONIZING SOBER-SEX

Stop demonizing sober sex!

There is an unwritten rule in AA that is not without merit.  “No sex for the first year sober” is the suggestion.  Unwritten indeed.  The rule teeters on a scale defined as either a beneficial and spiritual quest or controlling and insane demand depending on the context by which it is administered.  Granted the “no sex” rule is not as well established as the “no relationships” for the first year rule.  But admittedly they are similar, and sex can be huge distraction in early sobriety that leads directly to the cliff called “relationships”.  After all a sexual relationship is still a relationship.

How can the rule of no sex for a year be potentially either spiritual or character defect both?  It is a spiritual quest if we choose it to stay clear of distractions and deny the flesh to empower the spirit.  And it is a decision I can change at any time preferably without being called an evil 13th stepper.     If someone is demanding that I “stop all sex for a year” no questions asked and insisting I won’t stay sober if I have sex as a blanket rule for everyone…well then it’s insanity because there are a host of circumstances in life which could prove that newly sober sexual relationships can work.  It depends on the person and the situation.  Perhaps I enter the rooms married, or maybe I meet my soul mate in the rooms.   Him with 13 years sober and me 13 days sober.  We fall deeply in love and are still together many  years later, in harmony.  And yet the frigid and judgmental call it a 13th step.  The most horrid of the AA offences, that is other than relapse.

Live by the golden rule and show others respect.

In the words of our great guru, king of the 12 steps, validator of the suffering addict,  Bill W. himself.  “We do not want to be the arbiter of anyone’s sex conduct.”   Well you sure as hell could of fooled me!  If “we” means the people at meetings I have been to that is.  Seems to me the rule forbidding sex in the first year of recovery supersedes many of the more important sobriety suggestions.   And Bill W. continues:  “We remembered always that our sex powers were God-given and therefore good, neither to be used lightly or selfishly nor to be despised and loathed.”  He goes on to mention that “everyone has sex problems.”    I am sure that’s true also for the majority of humans, eventually.

Are certain members of AA mimicking religious fanatics?

Yes ironically, since the word “religion” is by far the most evil word in the AA pirate dictionary.

And the interesting part about all this shame inducing sex talk?  We hear a very similar message echoing from the pulpit of many churches.  Even though the Bible itself doesn’t talk much about sex.  But rather the Bible condemns the betrayal called adultery.  The word “fornication” in my opinion implies ‘betrayal’ and some sort of hurtfulness not sex alone.  Let consenting adults alone with their consensual sex.  Why, with all the violence, torture, abuse, murders, maiming, and molestation happening does an act of sexual harmony rate being called sin?  Only for the misguided, clearly only for the misguided.  Common sense tells me that harmonious sex is no more a sin than eating food.  Sex is right there in line with eat, sleep, drink water, have sex, have babies, and breath air.  Granted I am not referring to sex abuse that my friend is another mater.

What is addiction in the arena of substance abuse?  Addiction means un-manageability.  That is the difference between using a drug to help us and abusing a drug to hurt us.  But don’t think you escape un-manageability just because your sober. ha ha ha ha

Recovery is about what we do to recover not about what we are forbidden.  (excluding alcohol and our drug of choice of course)

Recovery happens when we go to meetings and do the work regardless of whether we are having sex with a newcomer who by the way used to be a prostitute.    The program works if we work it.  If you have sex you still make your meetings.  If you have sex with a newcomer you still make your meetings and if the newcomer doesn’t make his or her meetings, well that’s on them isn’t it?

We are adults, we make our own choices.  Newcomers make their own choices.  Some programs like to take away the power of choice, even imprison or restrain adults  but Alcoholics Anonymous is not one of them and the literature proves it.

WEBSITE ARTICLES THAT ADVOCATE NO INTIMATE, SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS FOR THE FIRST YEAR

5 Signs Sex Is Undermining Your Recovery


The Addicts Prayer

Turn your recovery over by giving it to God through a more tried and true Higher Power than a door knob.

Pray this: God I realize we have not talked much, please, please reveal yourself to me that I may know you and understand what my relationship with you should be from here on out. Thank you for hearing my plea. I humble myself before you the Creator of The Heavens and earth. Amen Oh ya, P.S. Please let me know what your name truly is and that you do Love me as your child and blessed creation cursed as it has been. I fear if I don’t do something different I will end up back in the Hell that addiction has taken me. Please Help! Amen

If the above prayer makes you nauseous then you may not be a child of that God.  It’s your choice to pray the following prayer instead.

HOW TO TRULY FIND AND CONNECT WITH YOUR OWN HIGHER POWER

“A God Of Your Understanding”

 

 

HEAVEN BY WAY OF HELL

My Own: “Orange is the new Black”

My sobriety date is April of 2006.  I got clean on Good Friday and spent Easter weekend in a small holding cell going cold turkey off numerous drugs and alcohol.

All my senses were heightened as the withdraw pains increased and I listened to the guards just outside my dark holding cell  drink, party, and play adult games.  Not long after I heard them torturing a woman in what they later refereed to as the “Black Chair”.

Needless to say the black chair had restraints.  Granted the tiny female prisoner was drunk, delusional and played her own part in the torture I heard her endure that night.    The guards used the “black chair” title as a threat to keep inmates in line.  After several weeks of recuperation that inmate was moved from medical into the women’s pod.

After my second month of sickness with painful gull bladder attacks I was sent to ‘medical’ where another women suffered from seizures in the room next to me.  Apparently seizures are a criminal infarction in the Levy County Jail.  I ‘saw’ nothing that night but what I heard was both scary and alarming.  Let’s say I lived years on the streets, in crack traps, bars, with felons but what I witnessed in that jail to me was shocking.  I couldn’t have imagined that a female nurse could be so utterly brutal.  Funny…we never saw that patient/inmate again after the night of her seizures.  All I know is I heard her hit the floor and she went silent.  Just a few feet from me with a wall between us.  She went silent as that nursed screamed brutalized her .  She kept screaming, “your faking your seizures”!  Word was she was mysteriously released even though prior to her visit to medical there was no chance of her getting bail and her court date was a long way off.

That wasn’t the first abuse I witnessed in that jail.  But that’s not what this story is about.  Idk…maybe it should be, maybe that is where it’s taking me.

Perhaps I should mention the prettier younger girls

who got to leave jail to take trips to “McDonald’s” if they were chosen by the guards.  One of  the inmates was also my friend on the outside who just happened to be younger and prettier than me.  She said the guards would not only take them to McDonalds but also get them their drug of choice on occasion for their trip to Micky D’s.  I think we all know what the girls did for the guards, and they were happy to get a McDonald’s hamburger for their pleasure.

The pod we were in consisted of about 30 inmates 15 upstairs and 15 downstairs.   We were allowed to choose the location of our own bunks.  How it usually went down was ‘if’ NO ‘when’ someone pissed us off we would grab our gear and bunk as far away from them as possible.  I ended up grabbing my gear and heading down those stairs.  We all ended up right where we were supposed to be.

One thing sure, we were on display, literally.

We had an audience called the “Screws”.  Up high straight across from the inmates second story was the guards own second story room with a huge glass window facing down on our pod.   The glass was even set at an angle so they could see everything.  They could look right down on the ladies day or night…with good intentions of coarse.  They were keeping us safe you see.  And at the same time, well lets just say as it all turned out, the ladies upstairs had much different personalities than the ladies of the downstairs levels of the pod.

The ladies upstairs kept themselves up at all hours of the night.  They were active and the guards loved it.  Apparently they knew how to put on a show.  The guards had their own big screen real-time stripper show with girl on girl pornography and it was all live.  I guess they just couldn’t resist the temptation to watch the show and buy the burgers.

The downstairs ladies used to rise in the morning and say a morning prayer together in a circle right there in jail.  We were tired of the life as addicts and criminals.

We were generally kind to one another.  There were spiritual things happening to us.  We were having a common dream about water and baptisms, pools, and rivers.  We went to church on Wednesday nights and we had AA group on  Sundays.  In between we had the library and all its recovery literature.  We were women who wanted to change.  (even if some of us did take the occasional trip to McDonald’s).  I remember that jail-house preacher told us “God is here walking the halls & working miracles.”  I believed him, somehow I just knew I was going to get my miracle.  That preacher was one judgmental, assuming son-of-a-bitch but he had some good things to say too.  We ladies were soaking up as much positive energy as we could find.

But the girls upstairs…well they hated us ladies down stairs.  My girlfriend from the outside basically couldn’t make up her mind she kept switching back and forth from upstairs to down.  She would fill me in on what was going on up top .  I considered her credible I knew her.  We were hypocrites to them.  To them we were showing pitiful weakness and they despised it.  If I had not been released when I was, well there was a women who was picking a fight with me and it was reaching a head.  She screamed at me because she was going to prison and I wasn’t.  She swore she would see me in prison and then she would have my ass.  I feel pity for her at this moment.

You know you are in recovery when you take A.A. meetings into the very jail which incarcerated you for sixty days.  Yes, for two years I walked freely in and out of that same jail.  By the Grace of God, AA and therapy with Randall Mayrovitz at Meridian Healthcare Bridge-house outpatient therapy and inpatient both I learned how to live sober.

Well they pegged a fall guy for the Levy county sex follies.  Apparently not long after I left the jailhouse Chadwick Buford Holmes was arrest.  My guess….he probably was the ONLY ONE who did not participate.  And that is why they snatched him.  But who knows.  It’s just that when the majority are engaging in corrupt activity….that’s what they do.

https://www.prisonlegalnews.org/news/2012/apr/15/state-by-state-prisoner-rape-and-sexual-abuse-round-up/

Chadwick Buford Holmes, 32, a jail guard with the Levy County Sheriff’s Office, was arrested on June 30, 2011 on a third-degree felony charge of sexual misconduct. He is accused of repeatedly having sex with a female prisoner in a bathroom, and was booked into the same jail where he is alleged to have committed the sex acts.

I was coming off Xanax, Crack, Methadone, Cigarettes, and Caffeine

Not to mention I kept having gull bladder attacks omg.  It’s a wonder I survived it.  But for the grace of God.  I finally got my day in court after two months and the judge gave me a sentence to rehab.  I got to ride to Meridian in decked out cop car with sixty days detox time under my belt.  I was well on my way to full blown recovery.

Jail saved my ass.  AA taught me coping skills and how to get sober.  Therapy taught me what to do with my emotions and helped me work through core issues.  The 12 steps are the essence of my religion.  Without my higher power I would not have survived addiction.  All good things are from the Great Spirit of Light and Life.  Tapping into that strengthens my faith.

Inside me is a good and loving dog and a fearful and criminal dog which ever one I feed the most will become stronger.  Lately I have been tempted to shop-lift.  Time to feed the good dog.  But one thing for sure while I am alive, I will be human.  The human condition is by default corruptible.  The program works as long as I make the choice and take the action to work it.  But without the outside help I would be screwed.

By Laura Edgar

Church Releases Jarring Video: Battling Sex Addiction With Honesty

Church Releases Jarring Video: Battling Sex Addiction With Honesty

Scroll down to see video now.

The name of the Mormon website is LDS Living

In honor of National Addiction Recovery Month, the Mormon Channel is releasing a series of powerful and raw videos, which focus on the struggles and triumphs of those overcoming various addictions.

The 12-part series focuses on the personal experience of 12 former addicts who share startlingly honest and real experiences of their fights to overcome drug, alcohol, food, sex, and pornography addictions. read more…

Here is the link to the video

SCOTT PETERSON To Be Featured on ‘Murder Made Me Famous’

FAMOUS SEX ADDICT AND CONVICTED MURDERER SCOTT PETERSON, UPDATE:  Show Airs on Reelz August 25, 10pm, 9 ep/pt

The Scott Peterson, Laci Peterson, Modesto, California murder case will make the next episode of Murder Made Me Famous on Reelz.  Read more in the inquisitor…                                                                                                                                (Please know the partial story printed here was written by

Traciy Reyes http://www.inquisitr.com/author/traciy/  )

Sex addict Scott Peterson lives a cushy life on death row  after murdering his pregnant wife and unborn child.  It’s said that he did it for his mistress Amber Frey who he was seeing at the time.  Consequently,  Peter Reynosa filed a lawsuit late Wednesday in Fresno County Superior Court, seeking either $250,000 or Frey’s renewed cooperation on the book, titled “Memoirs of a Sex Addict,” and the screenplay, “Myths of the Flesh.”

It is unclear if the book was fiction or a memoir by Frey, but a document attached to the lawsuit that Reynosa said is a contract says authorship would be listed as “Amber Frey as told to Peter Reynosa.”  Talk about a can of worms.

The screenplay — which is fiction, Reynosa said — was at one point known as “Orgasms of the Dying.”  Read more here:

Read more here: http://www.mcclatchydc.com/news/crime/article24614536.html#storylink=cpy

Scott Peterson “The Perfect Husband” Crime Archives Scott Peterson Trial – Scott & Laci Home Video – July 4th, 2002
Geraldo video from March when he appealed his death row sentence.

see original article in new tab

The Scott Peterson, Laci Peterson, Modesto, California murder case will make the next episode of Murder Made Me Famous on Reelz. Last Week, the Inquisitr reported on the debut of the new Reelz show. Tonight’s Murder Made Me Famous will detail the actual events of the murder of Laci Peterson, who was eight months pregnant, and her unborn baby, Connor. Laci’s death made headlines in 2002 after she vanished on Christmas Eve. When her body washed ashore several months later, her husband, Scott Peterson, was charged with murder. Today, he still sits on California’s death row, where he seems to be living a “cushy’ life,” according to Daily Mail.

Laci Peterson was a bubbly, cute, dark haired beauty. By all accounts, she was a talented young woman with many friends and was a beautiful homemaker. She enjoyed being a housewife, and she loved putting together exquisite meals for her friends and family members. When you were invited to Laci’s house, you knew you were going to have a good time. And this is exactly the kind of image that Laci wanted to portray.

According to the Movies Based On True Stories Archives, Laci emulated Martha Stewart, and other shows that encouraged women to be the perfect homemakers. Impressing her friends with her beautifully organized Modesto home sure made people feel cozy, and it gave Laci lots of pride. Her husband, Scott, liked that about her, too—in the beginning.

Scott Peterson was a handsome dark-haired man who appeared to be a successful businessman. From the outside looking in, it seemed that life for the Petersons was just perfect. In reality, Laci was not was not happy with Scott. Though at times he could be charming and reassuring that he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, behind the scenes, he was longing for life as a single man. Scott loved three things: money, porn, sexy women who loved lots of sex, and himself—so that makes four. see original article in new tab
More on the Scott Peterson appeal
FULL BLOWN SEX ADDICT
Scott Peterson’s ex-girlfriend sued over ‘sex addict’ book

Sex Addiction

From Anonymous Sex Into the Right Body  

Huffpost On Sex Addiction

 

Eventually I landed in the hospital with a “fever of unknown origin” (FUO, the doctors called it), which lingered over 105 degrees for a week and kept me shivering under an electric cold blanket, hallucinating all the while. The following week I was right back at it, having anonymous sex as soon as I was discharged — until, sure enough, I returned to the hospital with another FUO. This time I was worried, and alone: my boss from the theater where I had started working straight out of college didn’t come to visit, as she had the first time. I was trying people’s patience; things could only get worse.

 

And then what movie aired on TV as I lay in my hospital bed but Philadelphia, in which Tom Hanks plays a lawyer who’s fired for being gay and ultimately dies of AIDS.

 

“Okay, God,” I said. “I’ll stop.”

 

But of course I didn’t. I am an addict.

 

I acted out for ever more potent highs with, paradoxically, ever more debasing behavior, so that demoralization imbued whatever self-worth I had left, until I saw myself as deserving nothing more. I began to believe what I believed other people believed about me.

 

*

 

Years and years into the cycle, reprieve would come at last in the form of recovery meetings. I needed to show up in the rooms to stay abstinent, not from sex altogether, but rather from the addictive behaviors that made my life unmanageable: phone sex, cybersex and pornography, in addition to the anonymous sex — all forms of sexual activity which were, for me, attempts to rub out the unease of being in the wrong body through forms of self-effacement.

 

The root of the problem was that I did not want to be in a male body; I never had. Anonymous sex provided an avenue for assuming the role in which I was comfortable, while covering up the longings I felt inside, if only for as long as I acted out. Since the sex was over before it began, and I never knew my partners, the underbelly of my gender dissipated upon expression. Thus I sought to suppress myself under the illusion of control.

 

But denial only exacerbated the discrepancy between my reality and my potential. The mirror of life followed me everywhere, and the shame in which addiction coated me obscured the reflections I saw.

 

Impulsion distorted any sense of self-worth, which worsened the disgrace of being unable to control my addiction. After engaging in behavior that I’d promised last time I would never do again, here I was doing the same thing once more — again, and again, and again and again — and again.

 

I ventured further into the abyss each time I acted out. Yesterday’s rush fell short of what I needed today — riskier danger, steeper precipices and more, always more. There was never enough of anything because my addiction craved annihilation above all else. Every letdown fanned the flames of the hell that life became when I acted out.

 

And yet I sought even more.

 

I wanted to stop. I promised myself I would stop.

 

I could not stop. read more…