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Post by JohnG on Feb 1, 2007 10:14:27 GMT -5
Blue,
I agree with so many things in your post today. About Spanish culture - the carpet bombing on TV of breasts and legs. At the gas station, on the street, everywhere. It is amazing. But I am making some progress on that front. I have not choice but to learn to tune it out. To look away. I am afraid that my GF is going to start wondering why I spend so much time looking at other things when the TV is on. The other night there was a long scene on the TV that I couldn't watch and I had to pretend to be really interested in my cat for two whole minutes.
Sorry about the back problem. I had Lyme disease undiagnosed for a year (probably still have it - it is hard to eradicate completely if its late-stage). I got really bad migratory arthritis as a result and I will never again think, "oh those old people are just whiners." Any kind of pain in the articulations is agonizing.
On analyzing: In AA they say that the smart ones have a harder time of it. We want to understand (notice how I slip myself into that category?) and find the root when it really won't help us. It is a way to avoid doing the really hard stuff which is action. We prefer to think. I once even had fantasies about becoming an expert in addiction and helping everyone with my hard won knowledge (sounds kind of like what I am trying to do now if I really think about it). We have to beware of being too smart for our own good.
Get well.
JohnG
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 1, 2007 12:11:58 GMT -5
Didn't want to let the day go by without logging this: I had sexual dreams last night -- of the type where guilt and morality are non-issues and sex with indistinct or mixed indentity women is part of normal operations (in public, in front of others, while doing other things, etc.). I'm often puzzled when I 've read posts by others who have such dreams; sometimes the poster sees them as a mark of shame, or even a slip! I'm on Day 11 now, and I think the fact that I'm having such dreams is mostly positive. For one thing, it's likely that the addict in me is calling out to me through the dream, saying, "Hey -- remember me? This is what you want. This is what you've spent so many hours and years looking for on the Internet." If the addict feels compelled to raise his head in this way, it's because he feels neglected -- ten points for me. Another reading is that this is just a reflection of what's going on in my subconscious, that underneath it all I still want these things. Ok -- but the fact that it comes through so strongly and clearly in a dream makes me think my psyche is making some attempt at honesty. I can't see a negative reading for the dream -- not in the context of my addiction. Of course, I'd love all my dreams to be footage of innocence and wholesome joy, but it's unrealistic to want or expect that now. This is part of progress.
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Post by JohnG on Feb 2, 2007 6:21:27 GMT -5
Yes.
JohnG
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Post by rockbottom on Feb 2, 2007 12:20:07 GMT -5
blueclouds,
I think your interpretation of your sexual dreams is a very positive/healthy line to take indeed. You can intepret dreams in an infinite number of ways and it would be 'oh so' easy to interpret it as a negative - which may be disheartening with respects to your recovery. I think you hit the nail on the head when you said you need to be realistic. Given the circumstances you are in (i.e. in recovery), it is not at all surprising that you (or anyone else in the same situation) could have sexual dreams.
take care and keep smiling
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 3, 2007 7:45:19 GMT -5
Thanks JohnG and rockbottom. It is so uplifiting to see people following your story somewhat, and taking the time to respond. I really need to give back more to this board. I need to read more journals, respond to others more. Intellectually, I know that's also an extremely beneficial part of recovery. But I'm still selfish. Sometimes I also feel like I should read an entire journal before I respond, to get some context for the person. So I say to myself, "One of these days, when I have lots of time, I'll sit down with a tea and read one person's entire journal so I can respond with deeper understanding." All I can say to that is, for an addict, any sentence that starts with "One of these days" is a load of crap you're feeding yourself.
I keep getting triggered by women on TV, even when they are not there as triggers (i.e., they are modestly dressed, and not the selling point of the program). I have not had any major "waves" yet, but I guess I have to expect them. I am toying with a new idea for dealing with urges. It falls into the category of white-knuckling because it is not a long-term plan for permanent change -- just a way to get out of a tight spot. However, it is also not the usual white-knuckling where you try to steel up against the wave with your will power.
I learned this on a meditation course. You can't possibly stop thoughts (addict or otherwise); they keep popping up, and you most often can't even edit the content. That's why it's a mistake to fight against thoughts; indeed, it's like trying to fight a wave. But you CAN decide how you react to those thoughts. You can go with them, follow them through, spin them over and over again in your mind; you can try to bury them, suppress them, forcibly replace them with more pleasant ones; or -- and this is what we don't know how to do -- you can accept the fact that they have arisen, and say "These are my thoughts, they are part of the habbit patterns of my mind, they arise again and again, endlessly, now this one is in my head, but a new one will come soon enough, they cause physiological responses in me, chemical changes in my body, and these changing chemicals send messages to my brain, creating desire, attraction, repulsion, aversion, it's an endless process, I can watch it without clinging to it or trying to stop it, watching it will calm it."
Not for everybody, I know. But it's something I learned once, and for me it's effective. No miracle though. I'm still a click away from misery.
My SO is having work trouble. She comes home upset and afraid -- she's pregnant and can't easily switch jobs just now. I am trying to listen to her, not deflect the problem, not sweep it under the rug by distracting her (these have been my strategies), but at the same time I have to watch that it doesn't become an urge to slip in me. The problems are fairly serious, and I feel them in me when she talks about them -- they hurt my stomach. I need to be vigilant so that I don't escape from this conflict in the usual way, the old way. Geez, you go your whole life thinking you're strong only to find out you're the weakest of weaklings.
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Post by JohnG on Feb 3, 2007 9:05:52 GMT -5
BC,
I like you idea for dealing with urges. Until now I have been dealing with them by sort of swatting them out of the way - I had an image pop up this morning walking home from the port of a woman face - one who I used to see in my P browsing - she was one of my favorites. I swatted it down - it came back - I swatted it down and started thinking how true it is that these things get engraved into your neural architecture and it won't be easy to get rid of them. It went away. Sometimes I get kind of angry if the image comes back - and say to myself, "wtf? get a grip!" This seems to work too. The main thing has been to not give them even a full second to germinate into something else. I have to deal with them IMMEDIATELY. If I do that, no matter what the technique, I get through it ok.
I identify with triggers sort of morphing into more innocuous subject - totally non-sexual photos, even just a head shot of a pretty woman can be dangerous. On the other hand, I have been noticing that it is getting easier to keep my eyes straight ahead on the street. The bouncing eyes has become rather automatic with the need for ocassional conscious boost, and now I am experimenting with giving women on the street no more importance than I would give to a crack in the sidewalk. That sounds bad, but I just mean to not focus on them anymore than I would anything else - and right now that means consciously ignoring them until they stop showing so prominently on the radar.
Have a great weekend.
JohnG
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 7, 2007 19:37:24 GMT -5
Five days later I have a computer screen again -- borrowing an old CRT (feels like about 10 inches) that curves back at the sides, after my glorious TFT suffered a meltdown.
Very interesting how I'm reacting to this period of suddenly being forced offline to just as suddenly recovering internet access. It reminds me of the prelude to my relapse last summer. Then, I was staying in an apartment that had no connection for about a month. During that time, I of course was not looking at P on the net -- a free 30 days of sobriety! However, I was also not visiting the board, not doing work. I fell on the MB front somewhere in there. Finally, back in my house and reconnected to the net, I flopped around on the board for a few days, then crashed.
This is what was really going on: I was getting juiced by the mere fact of being online, the screen glowing, the world and all its treasures at my fingertips. In that strange way, JUST GETTING BACK ON THE INTERNET WAS A SLIP. It's like giving an alcoholic a bunch of empty but magic beer bottles and telling him, "Ok, just click your heels and they'll overflow." Or put another way, if every time you look out a certain window you see (what you think is) heaven, what are the chances you'll accept looking out the same window and seeing only a dismal street with bitter humans going by? And what if you could make your heaven return just by snapping your fingers?
For me, the Internet is completely entwined in my P addiction. In fact, I only purchased a P mag once in my life. I never had collections, or even a single mag or picture that lasted very long, apart from my suitcase collection as a young teen (see earlier pages). It is the limitlessness of the Internet that compels me. And the CONTROL. I decide everything, every detail. I do and undo at will. And my tastes become (became) more and more eccentric, then perverted, then maybe... deranged? Sick? And what's next? Illegal? Can I escape that end, just because I think I'm a good guy?
The Internet is an abyss for addictive minds. I know, it's a great tool, blah, blah, blah. Very true. I use it for work, to communicate with old friends, to look up stuff I'm interested in. But it's also the place where I self-destruct, and for specific reasons, I think.
Not making any arguments or suggestions. Just that I have to beware of this. I'm addicted to porn, MB, and sexual fantasizing, but the Internet somehow turns the light on for my addiction, and the screen still glows in a way that can pull me in.
It's insane, really. This board is like AA holding their meetings in a bar!
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Post by JohnG on Feb 8, 2007 8:42:07 GMT -5
BC,
The internet itself is very addictive. Any excuse to stay on it - even this board - will do in a pinch. I can only deal with one addiction at a time so I am letting myself run wild on the board - actually that is hogwash. I don't want to deal with internet addiction right now but it is my problem in addition to P. I have to recognize that. But the internet has become so ubiquitous that unless you are ready to go live in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania you have to find a way to co-exist. I think (perhaps foolishly, perhaps not) that moderating severely my time on the internet will be much easier if I have some good PA sobriety. I lose track of time on the internet but I never have "pangs" when I am away from it, unless they are related to P.
Gotta run,
Stay well,
JohnG
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 8, 2007 19:35:16 GMT -5
True, the Internet is not an end in and of itself at this point -- or should I say "yet"? For me, it is about escapism. The net is a wonderful tool for escaping -- the best. It doesn't give me a high per se, but I know very well that other forms of porn, -- even movies -- do not transport me the way Internet porn does. I have wasted many hours watching movies on a porn channel (free and open after midnight in Spain), but it doesn't have anywhere near the power of online porn. Watching TV, I'll get bored, channelsurf in the middle of it, think about other things, and even check other non-porn channels from time to time to see if there's any "soft" content that might stimulate more. Also, after a TV movie session, I feel a little crummy, worried about how little sleep I'm going to get, but the truth is, I never go all that far away, if you know what I mean. Conversely, after a Internet P session, it's like I'm resurfacing from a hole. I catch myself in the mirror and feel utter disgust, or even scarier, a lack of recognition. I go into a netherworld, I zone out, I escape. And it's only the net that allows me to do this. When I'm watching porn movies, I'm just a guy on a couch consuming whatever is on that day, regardless of how closely (or not) it conforms to my preferences. If it's too boring, I'll grab my guitar and wait for the next movie. But when I'm online, and I have 30 or more tabs open, and I click and discard at will, I am not only consuming; I'm creating. It's my concert. I'm the conductor. I'm God. And nothing is off limits. Nothing is unavailable. In my case, I have to deal with this aspect of my addiction. It may be pointing to (at least one of) my core issues. Control, helplessness (what better way to combat helplessness than with a little dose of omnipotence?).
But in all honesty, right now I don't feel like working on issues or any other aspect of recovery. Granted, I'm tired, and as soon as I finish typing this I'm off to bed. But it's been a bumpy afternoon. I returned to some classes after my illness. Of the four classes I taught today (English to adults), would you believe I didn't have a single male student? All these women are in their 20s and 30s, and I really struggled. I found myself having to use the policeman trick (where you envision a policeman running up with his open palm in your face and yelling STOP!) to beat away fantasy. The fantasies were of particular scenes I've watched a gazillion times on the net, but with some of my students taking part. Then, at home, I struggled with the TV. It was all part of a growing wave that is hitting me right now.
This Sunday I'll have 3 weeks. I guess I have to expect these waves so early on. And I'll make it. I have an addict partner I talk to on the phone, and that makes recovery and support so much more real. Really, if you are just using the board and your own willpower, reach out! At least get someone to talk to, a voice on the other end. It's not as brave as walking into a meeting or a counselor's office, looking someone in the eyes and revealing your secret, but it's a whole heap of a lot more support than this board could ever be -- and I say that despite how much I have gotten, do and will get from this place. So tired now I'm rambling. Night.
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 9, 2007 5:58:13 GMT -5
Well, now we know. It's going to be a girl. All the more reason to maintain recovery. What kind of father do I want to be? How can I transmit any morality to her if I have this dark flame burning in me? Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I think, I'm going to have a JOB to do. something important. Service. Giving back to the world. And here I thought the world was only for taking...
Would anyone like to throw out any names? It has to be something that translates easily from Spanish to English speaking countries (Like Ana, Maria, etc.). We are leaning pretty close to one or two already, but it doesn't hurt to get fresh ideas.
The wave was still with me me this morning -- or the wake of it. I felt uncomfortable, had itchy feet, wanted to read some journals here and plan some classes, but couldn't get very far because I was in a funk. But now I'm picking up a little wind. Maybe it was the feeling of announcing my daughter (she's minus 4 months old). It's so strange, this feeling. It's like I already love her.
Here's to keeping sober, and not only sober but healthy, in a place where I can receive and give love freely and easily.
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 10, 2007 6:38:45 GMT -5
I have been getting hit with the same call to fantasize for several days now. It comes at me with just an image from P, and I swat at it with my baseball bat to keep it away. I have not followed the fantasy out for more than two seconds, but since it keeps coming back I thought I should share it here; it's becoming a problem.
I have said elsewhere that I don't like dwelling on the specifics of my fantasies -- too triggering, and after all, the mechanism of addiction is the same in all of us. At least at this early stage (3 weeks), I'm not ready to peer objectively into what used to get me "high." But it keeps coming back. It's the hardest stuff I ever looked at. It has to do with humilliating women -- I cannot write any more than that, because to do so I have to think about it, and if the pictures get in my head.... Anyway, I often couldn't even start with that at the beginning of a session, because it would make me sick, not even arouse me. I would need to get into full addict mode, totally zombied out, before I could stomach that stuff.
Now, 20 days sober, it's precisely that stuff that is calling out to me. It's pretty bad. I'll be with women for work or social reasons, and those images will come up, and I'll "insert" the woman in front of me into those sick images, whether or not I find her in the least bit attractive. I do not allow the fantasy to develop, but only through white knuckling.
I can't linger just now. Real life calls. Just needed to get this out because I've been struggling with it.
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 10, 2007 12:51:53 GMT -5
I just had to leave the living room. Was on the couch with my SO watching a Spanish film, which, in typical Spanish style, featured a well-known sex symbol in an endless scene going around in underwear, the dialogue and action loaded with innuendo. I don't know if the scene is over yet, but at least I'm out of there.
I'm weak in the face of this, and every thought turns into a trick to get me to slip: "I'm weak in the face of this, the pressure's really so great that there isn't much chance of holding out, why torture yourself running from the inevitable..."
Have a social engagement tonight, more of an obligation than anything else. We're going out in Spanish style -- four couples all together. I wouldn't call any of them friends. The girls are my SO's ex-coworkers. The guys, well -- I've only ever met them on similar occasions. They're "nice," but isn't everybody? It is a time of putting on smiles, making toasts, dragging the night out longer than anyone wants.
As you might be able to tell, I'm not looking forward to it. Actually, I never look forward to such things lately (well, for the past several years). But I feel like it'll be good in some ways, especially in terms of my recovery. Socializing, getting out among people, relating, dealing with cheesy jokes in the best way possible. Yeah, DEALING. That's what I've forgotten how to do. Of course, another reason, and, if I'm honest, the real reason I'm probably going out tonight, my SO needs it from me. She needs me to be at her side, in every way. Those are her realtionship values. My rant for the past few years has been, "Yeah, but what about MY relationship values?" One of the things I'm learning about myself here is that, well, maybe I don't have any relationship values any more. Or if I do, they're, at best, buried, and at worst, fragmented and warped. In many ways, from the POV of recovery, I'm leaning towards just succumbing to my SO's version of the relationship. I mean, what the hell do I know? What the hell could I possibly contribute to the idea of a healthy relationship between a man and a woman? God, I feel like I have to second-guess everything that comes out of my mouth now, and every thought that rises in my head: "Might it just be the addict talking?" Maddening.
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Post by JohnG on Feb 10, 2007 13:46:11 GMT -5
BC, Hang in there. I know all about Spanish TV. It has been my consolation prize when I was unable to get on the computer many times. And when travelling. I identified with you completely when you described your use of the late night channels. I have surfed back and forth continuously - looking for "good" scene - between the two hardcore movies and the two soft porn movies that may be airing simultaneously - the softcore women much more beautiful, but the scenes short and unconvincing and lacking in the graphic quality that I seek, and the hardcore movies usually European and lacking something that I find in the American movies. And all the while missing the internet where I can compose my great browsing concerto - dancing from link to link, opening and sorting and saving, discarding, making thousands of decisions, judgements, applying my fine-tuned esthetic to every detail - accepting inferior quality over and over because we need SOMETHING right? I have often thought that people like us have a taste that, however much the product of addiction it may be, is more refined than that of the greatest wine critic, director, chef, or art lover, in the world. How could anyone have a clearer vision than us about what precisely would, for them, make the perfect esthetic experience? I don't believe that they could. Because I can't imagine that anyone has ever loved art or food or wine or music more than I have loved pornography. It is important to recognize out loud what your preferences were - not because they are important or reveal anything especially important, but rather because the act of saying, in my case, "I loved images of older women and incest stories of mothers and sons" drags the thing further into the light and light and fresh air are anathema to this illness. Do it when you can do it safely, but talk and write about it sometime. I also understand about going out and staying out late - I think this is the price we pay if we are to love Spanish women. This is is a social obligation that we will not get out of until we are in our fifties. And then it will be dinner parties. Those are fine with me if there are in my home - that way I am the cook, protagonist, center of attention, and if I wish I can hide in the kitchen doing dishes, simultaneously winning points with the women (he does dishes? ?) and escaping the lively conversation on Ronaldinho and el Barca. Stay well. Just for 24 hours ok? And by the time that you read this you will have made it through the boring night at the bar where you have to shout to be heard while you are jostled by other people shouting just as loud, all the time wondering how long it will take for her to get tired and say, "shall we go home" and hoping it won't be, "we are going to another place..." Your friend, JohnG
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 11, 2007 15:01:07 GMT -5
I also understand about going out and staying out late - I think this is the price we pay if we are to love Spanish women. This is is a social obligation that we will not get out of until we are in our fifties. And then it will be dinner parties. Those are fine with me if there are in my home - that way I am the cook, protagonist, center of attention, and if I wish I can hide in the kitchen doing dishes, simultaneously winning points with the women (he does dishes? ?) and escaping the lively conversation on Ronaldinho and el Barca. Stay well. Just for 24 hours ok? And by the time that you read this you will have made it through the boring night at the bar where you have to shout to be heard while you are jostled by other people shouting just as loud, all the time wondering how long it will take for her to get tired and say, "shall we go home" and hoping it won't be, "we are going to another place..." I had to laugh out loud when I read this, JohnG. How well you know this ordeal! Actually, I'm lucky because my SO is homey by Spanish standards, and has no innate belief that not seeing the sun rise before going home means the night was an utter failure. However, she is big on protocol ("cumpliendo"), and when I suggest going home around 2:30am, she's quick to remind me how bad that would look. Go figure. Anyway, the night was ok. We had dinner, the guys on one side of the table, the girls on the other. I ended up leaning over and butting into the girls' conversation (more interesting). The guys told their sexual jokes, did their "gay" imitations, etc., and I sat through it. I will report that I felt comfortable there, which is progress for me. I have so often felt like the odd man out at such gatherings, awkward, off, as if they could see my latenight P-viewing activity written in my face, or hear it spoken beneath all my words. 21 days clean, I feel better about showing my face in public. The night wore on and we went to a club. Drinking, dancing, more sexual and homophobic joking from the men, and gradually my face grew longer, as I sat there on my stool. What a bore! I started to feel uncomfortable because I am incapable of getting on this wavelength. But I felt good enough to tell myself that it's not because anything's particularly wrong with me; it's just a sort of fun I don't find fun. However, I did feel some of the fear, just a slight twinge of the old panic, where I sense that most of the people in the club see right through me, that I'm damaged goods, poisoning their "good times" atmosphere. About my recovery, I have to take my satisfaction at feeling comfortable showing my face in a group of people with a pinch of salt. Last year, before my relapse, I would joyously report similar successes here, euphoric at my newfound normalcy. It's just a good symptom, is all. A small reward for staying clean. But it is not "Recovery," not health. No matter how much comfort I regain in social circles, I have to keep working at this, keep guarding against triggers. BTW, yesterday I accomplished two collosal feats. I got out the drill and hung a mirror on the tiled bathroom wall; it had been propped up on the back of the sink for ages. Also, I changed a lightbulb that had burnt out about a week ago. It's crazy how debilitating this addiction is, and when you're acting out on a daily basis, you don't even realize it. You just think, "Oh, I really should be doing this or that chore instead of MBing to P," or "I'm losing too much sleep." If only that was the only damage I was doing! In every way except the basics (eating, breathing), THIS ADDICTION STOPS YOU FROM LIVING.
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Post by blueclouds on Feb 11, 2007 15:52:44 GMT -5
I was encouraged to share about my P preferences in order to drag my acting out into the light. I fought against this, arguing that merely talking about it would be a trigger. Of course, there are other reasons why I don't like the idea of talking about it, and maybe the truth is that these other reasons are stronger: I don't want to say what I am; I want to come across as a good, clean guy -- even here in a PA forum; I am eager to pretend -- especially to myself -- that I possess some degree of innocence. Oh well. Here goes nothing.
WARNING! COULD BE TRIGGERING: DESCRIBES ACTING OUT PREFERENCES (AND NOW, HAVING FINSIHED THE LIST, IT WAS REALLY VERY TRIGGERING FOR ME, SO DON'T READ IF YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT THAT, PLEASE. I TRIED TO HIDE THE MOST TRIGGERING WORDS, BUT IT IS CLEAR WHAT I'M REFERRING TO. I WOULD HATE TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYONE SLIPPING OR EVEN HAVING TO FIGHT OFF A WAVE.)
I started with posing pictures. The younger the better, the more exaggerated the proportions the better, the prettier the better. I would alternate between wanting them to look innocent to wanting them to look filthy. I often got attached to a particular model, granting her almost mystical attractiveness. I never looked at, searched for, or felt curious about children, or underdeveloped girls.
Then I got into more explicit pictures of the sex act (not that I ever left the initial preferences). I became especially interested in several different ethnicities at varying times.
This is highly triggering to me as I write this. But I can do it.
I became interested in (fixated on) exaggerated proportions.
I became fixated on pictures of woman-to-man oral sex.
I became fixated on pictures and videos of sodomy (man-to-woman).
I "jumped" to videos at one point, and then pictures no longer did much for me.
I began to want harder things, often starting with softer and scaling up.
I looked for videos of especially young-looking women.
I became fixated on videos of the moment of ejaculation being as humilliating as possible for the woman.
In deep zombie mode, I have watched urination videos. I realized at the time that it was the humilliation of the woman that stimulated.
In the later stages, I became fixated on videos of extremely humilliating and violent woman-to-man oral sex, often with women of different ethnicities. I have oftern felt sick about this, thinking it meant that deep down I was a racist.
I often felt most stimulated by images in which the woman is either humilliated, taken advantage of, or "used" -- is not an equal partner in the act. However, I was often equally aroused by the inverse, where the woman is the "filthy," "sick" initiator.
I wanted scenes to appear real, feasible, not more traditional porn where it's so clear that you are watching a P actress. I wanted it to be easy to imagine the scene taking place between neighbors, coworkers, strangers, etc.
I am not sure if I achieved the goal of this exercise. I felt very triggered. However, that's actually good -- it tells me how close I still am, how vulnerable I still am, how VERY fragile my apparent tranquillity for the past 3 weeks has been. All the buttons are still lodged in my brain, and they don't even need to be pushed, just touched, just thought of, to set off all the bells and put me on automatic pilot (kamikaze mode).
Ok. It's out there. I think I'll need to speak it at one point too.
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