If you'd asked me, way back when, why I became a sex addict I would tell you the story I'm about to tell. But now I am wiser and I tell the same story but with a very important intro. The intro is this: Sex addiction is a combination of brain chemicals, hormones, and circumstances. I happened to strike that perfect combination. I'm bipolar. Come to find out that sex addiction is common among bipolars. That's the brain chemistry component. Then there's hormones. When I got pregnant with my fourth, and subsequently fifth child, my sex hormones went off the charts. All sorts of fetishes came out of the closet. Finally, circumstances. Like I said, if you'd asked before why/how I became a sex addict I would have told the following story. Now I know that the foundation was already laid. If it weren't these particular circumstances it would have been others that lit the fuse.
The transition to Sex Addict was really quite remarkable given the starting point. I was raised in a fundamental Christian family. I was taught abstinence at home, at youth group, in Bible studies, volunteered at a crisis pregnancy center. I was even taught that condoms couldn't prevent HIV (so abstinence was the only way). I bought it all. Met my husband at 16. Lost my virginity to him at 17. Married to him with a baby at 18. I was living that housewife/mom life that I'd always wanted. Sadly, my husband spent several years in jail. I remained faithful to him despite plenty of opportunity and temptation at my two jobs as personal trainer and a DJ. Deep down I know that THAT is me. But THIS is me too. I'm two different people in one.
Our marriage was very tumultuous. He gambled. He was unable to pay our mortgage payments and lost our house, partly because of that gambling problem. At one point during that period he won and then lost about $70,000 in one week. He drank. Half a bottle of Vodka a day. He was verbally and occasionally physically abusive. But at the same time we had our good moments and we both loved our children and I've never gotten to that point in which I wanted to leave. But there was a day when my spirit was crushed. When my devotion to him died. And it was about a month before I cheated for the first time. Maybe that was important for me to let go before I cheated. It was a Saturday. I went to work as a Bar Mitzvah DJ. I was in my first trimester. And as any woman reading this knows, that means I probably had morning sickness. I did. As I was setting up I neatly puked in the trash can. Then I spent five hours standing until my feet ached. I went home with my $100, exhausted. When I got there my husband said he needed the money for some bet and he'd give me $500 on Tuesday. I had no choice. I gave him that money. And never saw a penny back. I could never look at him the same way again.
I went on a trip to Russia with a college class for two weeks. On the trip I developed a crush on a gay classmate. We had so much fun together. Laughing, joking around, even a secret handshake. Good times. You might say it was a safe way of fantasizing about another man. When we got back home I asked him to screw. Of course he said no.
That Thanksgiving my husband didn't go with me to my parents house for Thanksgiving dinner. This was devastating to me. Especially since I was in the throws of a bipolar depression. (I was at that point undiagnosed). That night I was desperate for relief from the pain. And, I don't know why but I went to Craigslist and browsed the casual encounters section. I found myself a 19 year old just back from Iraq. I have a weakness for a man in uniform and so this was the perfect match. The next post is this story of my first NSA fling.
Those were the circumstances that spurred me to make that big leap. At this point though I bear full responsibility. I do it for the thrill. The adrenaline rush. Although there is one small thing I can blame on my husband. He never ever kisses me. Long before the cheating started the kissing stopped. He is a selfish lover.