TIME OF DAY:  6:40 am

         ACTION STEPS TODAY:  just woke up & started commute.  N/A

            Therein lies part of my problem.  It’s NEVER too early in the morning, never too late at night, to do something about my sobriety.  I could’ve texted someone already.  Prayed.  Done some 4th step (or 10th step).  Could’ve read the bible.  I will do some, if not all, of these things later.  I’m just calling myself because it’s never too early in the day to start.

            Yesterday I got kicked in the gut.  The show I was working on featured a guest that I was interested in, romantically, about 4-5 years ago.  She had gotten married, started a family, and moved to a small town while still maintaining her career. 


            My life has taken a much less successful turn.  In the meltdown of 2008, I got melted down.  I may never recover.  I have free-floating anxiety around the idea of my creditors charging into my home and taking everything I own.  EVERYTHING, not even leaving me a change of underwear.  Or I think that I’ll have to spend the rest of my life working to pay it off, and that I’ll end up at 70 in a homeless shelter after eating tuna out of a can for 30 years.

            In any case, I watched that show just feeling sick in the stomach.  I wondered if I was going to spend the rest of my days watching my life pass me by.  I know it’s too late to have a “normal” family, at my age.  People tell me otherwise; simple math proves them wrong.  I think that I’m too far in the hole to ever make it out and be considered viable husband material.  Or boyfriend material.  Or coffee date material. 

            Let me clarify—I know I am all of those things….but not by southern California standards.

            I feel like I’ve worn out my welcome here…not that I was welcome to begin with.  I’ve stood around too long.  Nobody’s interested in me, and my mere presence is starting to creep people out.

            It’s a horrible way to live.  It’s a horrible way to think.  And it’s not how Jesus sees me.

            I made an appointment with my old therapist last night.  I felt better by the time I got to her office, but because these themes of being “stuck here”, being cursed, and not knowing what my purpose is keep reappearing, I thought it wise to talk these over with her.  Her advice—get off your dead ass and go out there and do things.  ANY things.  Doesn’t matter.  Volunteer.  Zip line.  Take a dance class.  Who CARES?  Just get new experiences.  Lots of them.

            Of course, I got this advice the exact week that my social calendar filled up for the next four weekends.  You have to love God’s sense of humor.

            Have a blessed day.


TIME OF DAY – 6:45 am


I woke up today with an edge.  Angry.  I’ve been working a lot of overtime lately, and it’s cut into my weight-loss routine.  I had lost about 12 lbs. in a month, and I gained a couple back.  I was walking in the fat-burning zone for 45-70 minutes each night—even when I got home late—but my body couldn’t keep up.  I decided that on nights when I got home later than 8pm, that I would not exercise.  I have not been home earlier than 8pm since.

Having this extra weight triggers me to act out.  I know I’m unattractive at this weight.  It’s hard to breathe.  I cannot exercise or do the things that I enjoy.  It’s like being encased in a cellulite bubble and being forced to watch the world pass you by.  On top of that, being trapped in a routine of work-sleep-work-sleep-work-sleep sends me into an all-out rage.  I worked so hard in school and college for THIS?!

It’s not 7am yet.  I have to get in touch with my sponsor before work.  He won’t be available til later in the day, but just the action of texting him will put me in the right frame of mind.  Also, I need to text the brothers in my recovery group.  I’m on a train right now—not the most conducive environment to discuss the details of a sexual addiction.

I’ll find a way.  And if I don’t, Jesus will.

Have a blessed day.




I have never worked a program.  I was going to say, “I have never worked a program where I’ve had daily contact with a sponsor”, but to work a program is to have daily contact with a sponsor.  I’d asked this man to be my sponsor months ago.  I’ve called him perhaps twice.  The results have been what you’d expect.

I’ve been in far more frequent contact with the members of my recovery group.  This group meets once a week, and we answer workbook questions based on the eight principles of recovery (which, in turn, are based on the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous).  However, even these conversations happen less than once daily.  I love these people, yet I don’t phone them.  I think about how nice it is to know them, and I thank God for bringing them into my life…and then I complain that I don’t talk to anybody outside of work all day.  It’s amazing.  I’ve forgotten how to socialize.  I’ve forgotten how to nurture relationships.  It used to come naturally.  I don’t know whether it’s: a function of getting older; a by-product of addiction; a result of having too much failure in my life; isolation due to the hurts early in life finally bubbling to the surface….but “why” doesn’t matter.  Everybody else in that room is going through the EXACT same thing.  What matters is what we do about it NOW.

Have a blessed day.