I Don’t Need To Know – Art B.

[Originally published in Essay 2016 #3] I suffer from a sort of hypervigilance. Something in me wants to identify and define every object, every person, every angle and surface in my physical environment. My ears are open; my eyes are taking in the very texture of things around me. At some point, a long time ago, this hypervigilance became a tool of my lust. In “insobriety,” I was always looking and listening for triggers: people and images...

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Fond Remembrance of Roy K.

I would like to share my memories of Roy K., who was perhaps second only to my father in influencing my life for the better. My first contact with Roy was through a “Dear Abby” letter that appeared in the New Orleans Times Picayune in June 19811. In the letter, the writer described his battles with pornography, prostitutes, street behavior, affairs, masturbation, and loss of self worth. His fatal malady was lust; he was a “sexaholic.” He signed...

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Iran Report April 2016

[full report from September 2016 Essay] Visiting the Iranian fellowship By the grace of a loving HP SA was started in Iran by two sexaholics from Shiraz on 31 March 2003. The standard meeting readings had already been translated into Persian by an expatriate Iranian and these helped the new fellowship in Iran to adopt and apply the principles established by SA internationally. Although SA in Iran was not recognized or accepted by the...

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Forgiveness: Another Tool of Recovery

Yes, my mother once stabbed me. I was probably 15 years old when it happened. I am now 72. I could never use the word “stab” until I had been sexually sober for many years in SA. Instead I would say that I was a very unruly adolescent, and that one day I got my mother so infuriated that she went to hit me. The closest object she could find to strike me with was a bread knife. In the process of protecting myself from being hit with the knife, I...

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Galina – Ukraine (English & Russian)

[Originally published in edited form in Essay December 2016] Hello all, I’m Galina, a sexaholic from Ukraine! When they sent me the letter inviting me to share about the conference, the idea excited me, but over time I began to doubt myself. Did I have anything to share? Was I even capable of explaining my thoughts? It’s scary, but I’ll try to take the action and face my fear. I hope that this story will be useful, even to just one person....

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