Sex issues in my recovery from alcoholism.

I turned 12 in 1970, 22 in 1980. Alcohol and drugs were everywhere. Inhibitions were often non-existent.

I hadn’t known anything about sex. I mean, beyond the basic mechanics, nothing.

I have vague memories of every variety of sex, in the 70s, but no clear memories.

Looking back, I can see that I was so hung-up about sex, being physically male, and transgender, experiencing pretty severe dysphoria, that I mostly only had sex when I was blackout drunk, except when a girl dragged me off to a dark, comfortable place…and I just happened to be relatively sober.

Every time, the next day,(after the blackout sex), I would let it be known that no one was to say anything about what had happened, or I would be very, very displeased.

I was very athletic, quite strong and healthy, so no one tried to force the issue. I had actually never physically injured anyone, but no one wanted to take the chance.

A locally well known barefoot and slalom water-skier, I was a great actor… 6 feet tall, with a baritone voice. No one ever decided that it might be a good idea to challenge me. That was, to some extent, by design, not to mention working out my frustrations against the water was cathartic.

A young, strong, male body, tall, strong, and easy to look at, is a marvelous thing…but it was not “right”. In fact, it was very wrong. The only time that gender dysphoria wasn’t weighing on me heavily, was when I was behind a boat, battling the forces of physics…

In 1993, after leaving the USNavy, I “came out”. I could no longer live the lie. I was drinking myself to death, and suicidal…

Oh yeah, “sex”… My wife and I had a good sex life. I always enjoyed seeing/feeling/hearing/tasting her rising sexual pleasure …in fact, her sexual pleasure is what fuelled my own.

She was an uneducated Pilipina, who had grown up very poor, so my coming out completely unhinged her. She forced me out and we got a no-fault divorce.

I had to comfort myself with the thought that our daughter would be much better off with an absent father, rather than a drunken, suicidal father….

But this is about s.e.x…. so…

Free of any significant restraint, I was 35, healthy and, as I’ve been told, over and over, um…”easy to look at”.🙄😇

It was San Diego California, and I was ready to experience everything that I had been missing, for all of those years.

I was never,(successfully), fisted. I never got into being a total slave. Other than those exceptions, I enthusiastically tried every kind of sex. Everything…

Through it all, I learned that I am really “demi-bi”, perhaps “demi-pan”, but I have never run across a trans person who was attracted to me, that I was also attracted to. That’s just a matter of my age, chance, and moving back to North Carolina in 1998. As I’m 61 years old now, and only interested in a long term relationship, it’s unlikely to happen, but I’m not against the idea, at all.

Oh yeah, almost forgot….I was a relatively high-end call-girl for the last five years in San Diego…(a “pre-op-ts”, outcall only, mobile prostitute).

So, to get this thing back on the road, I keep running into a stumbling block, when it comes to sex and sponsors.

I have thoroughly, completely, totally, without reservation, worked out all of the sexual hangups that I’ve ever had,(and quite a few things that I was simply curious about 🤭, I mean, you know, as long as it was convenient…🙄).

So…sponsors…

I’ve never even had a stray thought of actually having sex with a sponsor, but I do talk about it,(sex, not having it with a sponsor),quite freely. A sponsor will ask me about someone in the group, and I just start telling her everything I know about them, and I mean everything. Good lord! The Nervous-Nellies, either clutch their pearls and say that they can’t work with me anymore, or,(as with the current one), begin to, amateurishly, psychoanalyze me, and project their own hangups on me.

This whole problem is further exacerbated, compounded, by the difference in our education level and,(don’t hate me), intelligence-quotient.

At 14, after smoking some pot before school, I scored 147 on the Stanford-Benet IQ test…

One would think that, after 45 years of some pretty serious, and definitely alcoholic, drinking and fairly liberal drug use, that my intelligence would have suffered so much, my brain losing so many cells, that I would be down to, oh, I don’t know, maybe, 100, 110 maybe?

Apparently not.

Having been sober and clean for,(let me check), 468 days, my intellect seems to be rebounding quite a bit more than I had expected.

After a very short-term sponsor had “handed me off” to someone that she thought may be able to “better help me”, I spoke to her and complained that the new one was very low on the scale of intelligence, and I didn’t think it would work out. She said, “You have to 'dumb it down’”, meaning that I had to, somehow, make myself dumb enough to go along…

I’ve gotten just about all I think that I can get from trying to work with sponsors. I’d be better to just start concentrating my efforts on helping the newcomers….

I have a spiritual connection. I’ve experienced the “psychic change”. It’s time that I recognize when it’s time to move on….

Thank you for reading…

Peace Love Kindness Respect the more you give the more you get 😍

😍😘😇🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

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Bye y'all. it's been real. I have a new Chromebook, but I prefer to write these little "aside" pieces on my phone, curled up in my comfy chair. always love; w

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Bye y'all. it's been real. I have a new Chromebook, but I prefer to write these little "aside" pieces on my phone, curled up in my comfy chair. always love; w

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