sunshine82 Cherrie Pratt

It took years for me to learn to love myself while struggling with sex addiction. Come along as I share how I have grown into the woman I am today.

Lebensgeschichten Oda Nicht für Kinder unter 13 Jahren.

#sex #poetry #pain #heart #selflove #family #healing #inkspiredstory #tears #truestory #Addiction
Im Fortschritt
AA Teilen

Where it began

—Addiction is when your body craves, your mind makes you think you need it, and you heart is fighting to heal. I didn't want to believe that my love for sex had taken overy life. The need for the high of a touch. I craved high for the pain that made the numbness go away. I was lost in lust and it had a dark hold on me. I was in denial. Words from people only made me think my live for lust was delusional. I believed I could control it and that it didn't control me. At least I believed for a short time. Tears would fall down my face, words would come out ofy mouth because I knew I needed help. A therapist told me that without an outlet, she couldn't help. Hope disappeared for years and I was a prisoner to sex.

—From 2011 to 2014, I was at my lowest. I had been separated from my husband almost a year. My children and I were living in a motel. Around the corner I heard a song coming from a very attractive man. We crossed paths a few times a day and one day he asked if he could have a kiss. Of course, I giggled and said no. But, lips screamed for this stranger's lips. For two days he would ask for a kiss. One I found myself, sitting on a cooler, waiting for him to ask again. Never in my life did I think one kiss would lead to years of darkness.

—His lustrous energy surged through my body. Before I knew it, we were in my kitchen. After a few moments of passion, I remembered my kids. Their sweet souls were resting in our studio room. At that moment, I came to and whispered "kids, kids, my kids" and grabbed him to go to the bathroom. For the first time I didn't feel numb and it felt so good to feel desired, to be touched, and to be read from inside out. For months we were inseparable. Before work, after work, and before bed everyday for three months we couldn't stay away from each other. That was until he said the word marriage. Up to that point, I forgot I was still married to my children's dad. I felt guilty and ashamed. Laying in bed one night, extremely emotional and confused, I sent a text to the man that turned my world upside down and ended it.

—Almost a month later was when my first withdrawal hit. My body would begin remembering the man that made me feel alive. And my body wanted him! Dreams became intense for days and I would wake up mid climax. At work, all I could think about was his touches, his voice, his smell, and I was becoming more weak. I could no longer fight the cravings, so I reached out to him. He was apauled and invited me over anyways. We sat on his bed watching TV and he asked me what made me call him after a month of silence. I was honest and told him I missed how he made me feel. He dropped his head in pain. (It was years later that I realized he truly loved me and I had hurt him.) In spite of me, he laid with me. I felt his anger with each movement and I didn't care. It was so much better than before.

—The high is what I seeked. His anger was motivation and each time it would get greater. He made me feel good in spite of me. One night he was at work and there was a small party in the parking lot, where I would give a new neighbor a lap dance. The pain that came from this would be like no other. The one man that truly loved me, was broken and it couldn't be fixed. He moved out of the motel and never returned. Selfishly, I cried because I didn't want another.

—Tears ran down my face for weeks, until my mind reminded me of the high that got me through my last era of numbness. Nervous, I began to pick up some liquid courage and headed out to the local club. My moves weren't very inticing, but the pheromones I was putting out attracted those seeking the touch I was there for. Sip after sip, I convinced myself that I could do it. Every weekend for a month, I did nothing because I was too afraid. My body began to scream for penetration; so much to the point it was louder than my thoughts. The weekend of my birthday was the night and it wasn't quite the high I was looking for, but it sufficed until I could find it. This went on for years, until the day I realized I had a problem.

26. November 2021 19:16 0 Bericht Einbetten Follow einer Story
Fortsetzung folgt…

Über den Autor

Kommentiere etwas

Bisher keine Kommentare. Sei der Erste, der etwas sagt!