Addiction, Recovery Forum - I'd Like to Share My Story About Overcoming Sex Addiction

There is nothing unusual about doing something wrong the first time. Think back to the first time you bravely lifted your legs over that bike, held on tight, and just let go. And maybe you skinned your knees. Maybe you fell off. If your first ride wasnt a smooth one...At least by watching the other kids in the neighborhood gracefully ride their bikes through the glorious summer...You knew youd eventually ride your bike the right way too.

Sex is a lot like riding a bike. Sometimes the ride is a bit bumpy the first time. Sometimes you scrape your knees and pummel to the earth and wonder the next morning why your head hurts so bad. Hopefully the next time...Will be better.

As I reviewed my life writing "the orange songs" I realized I did not have any positive role models to mold my own relationships after. My parents slept in seperate rooms. There wasnt a single healthy relationship in my family. And oddly enough, I even witnessed my friends parents riding some pretty ugly emotional terrain right in front of us kids. I learned how to do love and sex by watching tv. And for better or worse in the videos by my idols...Prince...Madonna...Etc. Etc.

My earliest sexual experiences were at age 5. This boy down the street wanted to teach me how to "hump" him. And deep in the woods behind our houses...I felt the first warm body that close to mine...At five years old. I remember his older brother and their neighbor boy catching us. They called us queers. They made fun of us. I had no idea what it meant. All I know is that it felt really good with sam on top of me. I also knew that sam told me if I let anyone know what we had done, there would be a serious price to pay for it.

Over the next twelve years I experiemented with sex with other kids my age. I had a couple childhood sexual experiences with females (playing doctor etc) but it never interested me. Not even at age 9. I remember wanting very badly to play the same games with a cute boy across the street named dave.

By the time of age 13 my hormones were out of control. I remember being obessed with sex. I masturbated constantly. I lusted endlessly after endless boys. I mention this incident in my song...But at the age of 13 I was a very innocent obsession with led zeppelin. Their flirtation with the dark arts was alluring and exciting to me. Not so much in the way that I was interested in evil per se. But any kind of allusion to the wonder and mystery of the world has always drawn me. Stone henge. Crop circles. Loch ness. The minstrels and nomads that wandered throughout the grooves of zeppelins material. I remember being uncontrollably horny one night. Desperate. Sweating. Barely any pubic hair on my body. And at that point id do anything. Anything. Anything to be touched by a man. So I put on a led zeppelin record, and mimmiced their alleged "deal with the devil". (the zep bio hammer of the gods was my bible at the time...) I wrote on a piece of paper...Satan...I give my life to you if I can have any man I want. And I put the piece of paper in the heat vent underneath my bedroom rug. 13 years old. The house I grew up in burnt down with all my kid stuff in 2001. And my deal with the devil...With the house... At the age of 31...As I write this...I dont believe in the devil so much. But...Theres that tiny part of me that in the back of my head...Thinks...Oh medical question jeremy...What have you done. Because physically...I have had my way with many a man I never imagined id have my chance with. Physically. Only physically.

I had my first adult sexual experience at the age of 17. I was 1992, right smack in the middle of madonnas iconic erotica phase. And all across america us little gay boys (who had yet to admit/realize we were gay) were jamming to erotica. And its messages....Messages of free sex. And sex that was emotion-free. I get chills down my spine thinking back to my earliest sexual encounters. With mike...With the terrifying uncontrollable lust of being 17...We ripped off our pants and made sure the doors were locked and the music was loud enough for no one to hear...And wed go at it. At least for a little bit. Until he pushed me off of him. Until he told me my skin was too dry to touch (i have excema). Until he froze up in front of me and crystalized into this distant creature. And that was the first time of many in my life I begged somebody. "please let me finish mike. Ill do anything. Im your robot mike. Control me." and I remember saying that to him over and over. Im your robot. Make me your robot. My self image at age 17.

All of my sexual experiences between the age of 17 and 20 involved straight boys who threatened physical harm on me if anyone found out. I was never held afterwards. I was often not acknowledged afterwards. And these were my peers. My friends. These werent tricks you saw at the club once. These were the kids I sat next to in science. The kids I played baseball with. The kids who were dating my closest girl friends. And my appetite was insatiable. The robot. The monster. And I wanted more more more. I played a game called "slave" with one of my brothers friends when hed sleep over. And him and I became eachothers servents. Following commands and demands. Deep in the darkest bedrooms of small town america. Thats where I learned how to do sex. Thats how I learned how to do sex.

I finally admitted to myself that I was gay right before I turned 20. And all my earliest loves/obsessions were with unavailable straight men. Beautiful confused creatures who in privacy told me their most intimate thoughts...And just as quicky diminished me in the light. And so this creature was formed. This creature who was one part a shallow emotionally deviod vessel who only knew how to cum and put his pants on super fast. And the other half of him played emotional freeze tags with boys he could never catch up to. Just when I thought I was about to net them, and make them mine, and hold them close...They were long gone. No where to be seen. Not even a silhouette far far down the summertime streets. Gone. And I remember no matter where I went feeling empty. The sex was empty because the boys didnt love me. Or I didnt love them. And the heart that was so full of love and fire...Eventually was nearly extinguished as it ran out of fuel. Im on e. Im on e. Im on e.

Throughout the 90s the sexual partners continued. And the unrequited love affairs continued. The straightedge hardcore kid who laughed as I chased his car around the block, and around the block, and around the block. And he laughed. And sped up. And slowed down. And the military boy who came into arbys to each lunch with me one last time. And I loved him so intensely. But he left...And came back to town with a new miliary body and a new military mind. And there was no place for jeremy in either of those places.

And the sex continued. Faceless bodies. And then there were sparks of light here and there...But nothing to hold on to. By the time the 1990s closed, the closest I had come to intimacy was with letters I wrote to a boy...Far...Far....Away.

As I moved to tampa in 1998 the internet became the perfect junk food to provide nourishment to my ever widening voids. And over the next five years there were bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies. And me driving home as the sun came up...Cracks in my eyes...Tumbling into bed like a mummy... And the boys who called me ugly the day after I was inside of them.

And so came the problem. And it is the problem that has plagued me my entire doing it life. When a child first places his hand onto the intense heat of the stove, his hand jerks back and he learns. He learns to stay away from the heat...Or else he will hurt himself. I, on the other hand, never learned to stay away from the destructive heat of damaging people. I ran back every time. I ran back and metephorically slammed my hand straight onto the burner. As my skin became thinner and turned to charcoal. And the heat climbed up my arm and turned my skin into welts and boils. Instead of running from the boys who burnt me...I ran to them...And even worse I ran after them. Begging. Begging for them back. Back to that primal instinct of not wanting to be left... And they say in a partner we always seek someone like our parents...And so I did. Dad left. Dad didnt care. Dad doesnt care. And for years and years I chased dreams and boys and cars to the point where the skin on my feet was bloody and raw. And my heart was cracked and crackled. And my life was out of breath. Always running blindly into pits of fire that had no interest in keeping me warm in my coldness...But wanting to engulf me in flames and turn me to ash. Old habits dont die easy...Jeremy didnt learn to keep his hand away from the flame.
And so you hear the voices...At the end of "sexual dysfuntion"---voices I heard in the night...From the net...In my my head. Clatter. Clamour. Crash.

"sexual dysfunction" is simply the most personal song I have ever written. I really want a lot of people to hear this song. I really want anyone reading this to share this song with your friends. I really want you to share some of your stories in my blog. As our culture gets more and more sex obsessed...More vulgar...More blantant...What happens to the art of the soft touch on the cheek? Is it too late to undo the damage? I vote no. And I want to hear your votes to.

Please download this song. Its only online for a short amount of time. I post this with fear and bravery...This is my story...To you.

Sexual dysfunction
written by j. Gloff

intro:
silence the voices in my head
silence the rumors being said
dont judge someone or the things they do
until you walked a mile in their dirty shoes
thank you mike jacobi 1993
you said my skin felt gross
you said "get off of me"

mike said get off half way done
he turned to stone in front of me
brian said hed kill me if I told anybody
how was I to know any better
small town 16?
I didnt realize
thats not the way sex is supposed to be

miss debra still likes me
even though she knows im gay
all these dead bodies showing up
i could have turned out that way
maybe I can get married someday
if I say to myself that im okay

chorus:
now all I want to be loved by someone else
to cure my sexual dysfunction
i was taught at the age of seventeen
sex is never clean its just malfunction
the root of all my sexual dysfunction

i paid for sex when I was grossly lonely
made a deal with satan at the age of thirteen
lucifer if I can medical question whoever I want
for life youve got a friend
jeremy you better hope the devils
fictional pretend.

Miles of skin I drowned in

outro:
thanks to the class of 93
wanna smash the face of anyone
whos ever touched me
feeling like a human urinal
i gave up my body
and only had a hole
but I better go to sleep
tomorrows a new day
im safe with my cats
and my legs not spread.