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As one might imagine, being a sex addict (I’m fully embracing this diagnosis even without an official diagnosis (bad self-diagnosing social worker move)) comes with many side effects (aka “consequences”).  One of which is the emotional taxation my actions have taken on my psyche.

For example:
Last night I randomly cried for about 15 minutes because “I feel so unwanted, unlovable. Undesirable.  The only time someone wants to go on a date or hangout is so they can try to fuck me.  That’s all I’m worth.  I hate it…” <– Text to a friend.

I struggle with wanting so badly to just be a normal person with a normal sex life. I try and often fail to control myself.  I get into a situation where I may not initially want to have sex, but then end up doing so because, well, I can.  That might sound a little rapey.  Really, it’s not.  I’m in full consent.

(Side note: I have experienced not-exactly-consensual sex and definitely-non-consensual sex.  Those stories are not for today.)

Example: First date is normal.  Dinner, coffee, whatever.  We drive separately and therefore going home alone is easy.  Second date, he picks me up.  We end up sleeping together by the end of the night.  UGH!!  This hasn’t happened in awhile, but it’s kinda a pattern.

Sometimes, I sext with people.  I often sext with people.  I am almost always sexting with at least one person.  RIDICULOUS!

These actions of mine… they wear on me.  I’m not looking for pity or advice.  I’m simply sharing.  Most of my emotional blahness comes from my … addiction.  My actions cause me pain.  This isn’t a simple matter of flipping a switch and making the right choices.  Generally I’m okay with what I do.  Until I’m not.  Then I’m really not okay.

Idk if this blog has had any rhyme or reason or real structure.

I’m going to bed.