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Confessions of a SEX junkie

3351 Views 27 Replies 9 Participants Last post by  sebastian
Okay, take SEX out of the subject heading and replace it with "masochism", "self-destruction", or something else along those lines. You see, "Confessions of a self-destruction junkie" just doesn't have a snappy ring to it. Nor does it have that sensationalistic swagger. I needed to get you here to read what i wanted to say, and thus i needed a grabber for my subject heading. Sorry. Didn't mean to manipulate your limbic system or anything, but that's the way these things are done. But here you are! Bravo! And since you've already read this much, you might as well read the rest. 'Twon't be long...

After quite some time analyzing oneself, one can arrive at a few immutable truths. I've found out some things about me these last few weeks, and while i suppose i've always been aware of them on some level, realizing it in all it's logical lustre certainly gives one a new perspective on one's own psychology. I have noticed that i am, without doubt, a Destruction Junkie. Let me explain a little of what i mean...

For as long as i can remember i have wantonly craven the excesses of life. I have never been satisfied with just a little of anything. How do i express this without making it sound like a virtue?

I drink a lot. Like, really, quite a helluva lot. Ever since i was 19, i've drank excessively. And i don't mean "excessively" by the standards of medical doctors or a similarly stodgy perspective. I mean like if i was on a barge with some Irish sailors, they'd probably have an "intervention" to try to get me to slow down. I don't keep a flask at my work or anything (although now that i think of it, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea), and i don't drink "excessively" every night (although there is rarely a night that will go by when i won't indulge in an aperetif or two...or three). But when the weekends come around, i drink like Dean Martin at a Vegas strip club. I'm never satisfied with "getting drunk". I seem to want to achieve alcholic oblivion every time i go out, and often succeed in doing so. I've been sick this week, so i didn't go out last night, but even staying at home i managed to polish off a 1.5 litre bottle of wine. I went to bed at about 5:30, but then sprung out of bed at 10. It's like my body just says, "Oh what's the point in making him sick, he's just going to do the same thing tomorrow, might as well get an early start."

I guess that all sounds rather frightful. Strangely, i wouldn't consider myself an alcoholic. I don't NEED to drink. I just enjoy it a lot. But my point here isn't specific to is the excess of it that i'm alluding to. Another example:

I gamble. Quite a bit. I've recently discovered the joyous world of online poker. I've blown a couple of grand over the span of a month. And it's strange too. It's not that i'm a bad player. I'm actually quite good. The problem is that if i win, i'll just gamble more and more money. There is no ceiling too high. I suspect that if i won a million dollars on a lottery ticket, i'd gamble to make it two million. It's absurd. I'm like Philip Seymour Hoffman in that Owning Mahoney movie. I'd reckon that throughout my life i've lost close to $50,000 gambling in some form or another. And yet, i wouldn't consider myself a gambling addict. I never spend more money then i can afford. I can go extraordinarily long periods without gambling. And I really could stop anytime i wanted to. Again, the problem is with the excess. It's almost like i WANT to lose, if that makes sense. If i'm up, i'll keep gambling until i lose.

Smoking. I don't smoke anymore, but i did for a long time, and let's face it, it truly is a ridiculously self-destructive habit.

Eating. I love food. Thankfully, i have a metabolism that works extra fast so i'm not yet obese. However, i'm not exactly washboard stomach man these days either. The thing is, i will gorge myself on food. I'll eat until i'm completely stuffed. Instead of eating dinner and feeling comfortably full, i'll order another round until i can't eat another bite, much like that guy in Monty Python's Meaning of Life.

Relationships. I am simply never satisfied. And it's so stupid because i should feel lucky to get just about any girl, let alone the fastidious standards i've set the bar at. Every relationship i enter into is doomed from the start because i will immediately go into sabotage mode, ultimately undermining any chance of happiness i could have had. It makes me want to weep when i think of the chances i've had in the past to really get intimate with a woman. I've had a few long term relationships but i sabotaged those as well, or i was just outright rejected.

Basically it's this: Any time things are going well in my life, it's like a part of me is looking for a way to make me fail. It makes so sense. If i'm drinking, i want to pass out. If i'm gambling, I want to lose. If i'm in a relationship, I want it to end badly. If things are going well in my life, if i've got a good job, enjoying my interests, etc. I will find a way to make things go wrong. Paint myself into a corner. It happens time and time again. It really does. And i just don't understand it.

I think this has a lot to do with my DP. I think it's caused by anxiety and this personality conflict. I guess part of me is somewhat relieved at all of this because to know that DP is based on a personality disorder, rather than something biological, i think gives us all a beacon of hope. We can change it if we really have the will to do so. But changing one's personality after decades of indoctrination, is damn near impossible. How is this done? And can any of you relate to any of this?


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Dear sebastian,
Since you mentioned one of my favorite films -- Owning Mahowney sp? -- starring one of my favorite actors -- Philip Seymour Hoffman, I have to respond. I am also rather low today. Just can't get going.

Remember in Owning Mahowney at the end, the psychiatrist asked him, "How would you rate how you feel when you gamble, on a scale of 1 to 10?" He said "A 10" (He may have even said "A 20") Then the psychiatrist said, and w/out gambling, your normal life?, I think Mahowney said "A two."

But of course in that film he was arrested for what he had done and had to try to confront all of this. He had destroyed his life, his relationships, lost his job, etc. He said something like, "I guess I'll have to live with a 2." Somthing like that.

Strange, you remind me a bit of our Martin here and of Mahowney. Sort of an "all or nothing" stance on life, but being extremely self-destructive. Losing $50,000 isn't ... well it isn't good. I'm not judging you, but Hell, I could use that for a downpayment on a condo right now, LOL. I'd have a place to live instead of throwing my money away on rent.

It sounds as if you have addictive behavior at minimum. And it seems addictive behavior is like a high that makes up for an internal emptiness like the dude in the film.

My father was a surgeon. But he was also a gambler. Horses, stock market. He also had OCD/hoarder-clutterer, and was basicially an unhappy, anxious man. He was meant to be a bachelor. He married my mother at 50, they had me when he was 53, and she tossed him out the door soon after that. He couldn't handle responsibility. It terrified him.

I'm not sure what would have helped him -- he might have had some response to Zoloft if there had been any in his day (he was born in 1906), but he also didn't believe in psychiatry at all. I also don't know where this came from as he came from a family of 4. His 2 brothers were all fine and successful, and his sister was a regular housewife. To the best of my knowledge, she was "high strung". I never met any of them but one was a playwright, one in the military, and of course my father was a surgeon. But of course, emotional problems can affect anyone, in any profession.

I'm wondering if this isn't sort of a compulsion to either break away from feeling empty? I forgot what you wrote already, as I've seen this pattern in a number of people I've known. An inner sense of ennui, for lack of a better word, or a sense of worthlessness. That film was incredible. Captured the whole thing for me.

Did you connect with the film, or does any of this make sense.

All I know is how unhappy my father was. How he couldn't have normal relationships with people/women -- he was passive/self-conscious, and the "risk taking" I think was a high, and was self-destructive hence proving him right that he was "not a good person."

I didn't know him that well, but at his funeral, many people came. MANY. And what really flipped me out was a woman who came up to me. She said, "20 years ago, I had lung cancer, and your father operated on me. I am alive today because of him, and that's why I came to pay my respects when I saw the obituary."

So many different facets to him. He also was known to throw a fit and fire all the nurses in the operating room if they made a mistake. Real rage that I NEVER saw. He was never angry with me.

Very complex person, as was Mahowney. In certain ways, Mahowney and my father seem very alike.

Do you connect with any of this?

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person3 said:
that story about your dad in the operating room kind of reminds me of the movie the cutting edge, where the hockey player is like "you know, I dont think she even enjoys ice skating"

its like a person keeps going, blazing a trail and getting more and more impatient w/those around them because hell it's probably not what they want to do anyway and they're doing it to prove something
Very interesting, that last paragraph. My father was so proud of being a surgeon. He went to Harvard. That was a HUGE accomplishment for a kid from a no name town in Ohio near the turn of the last century!

Strange thing is, I don't think he ever believed that he graduated from Harvard and became a doctor. He was the "pride of the family" so to speak, yet even his accomplishments meant nothing to him. I fully believe he wanted to be a surgeon. He was good in Chemistry/Science as was my mother. BOth were sort of destined to go into medicine.

It's odd though, my father was both proud and afraid of being so successful. The success held great responsibility. Yet, I know that in the operating room he felt most in control. Being a hoarder-clutterer he lived a life out of control -- a mess. But in a sterile, organized operating room where you have a VERY specific task -- remove this lung, cut here, suture there, etc. -- he felt "under control."

I can't figure him out, other than that he was unhappy. He enjoyed certain things, like reading literature, he loved Jazz ... all sorts of music, he loved travel.

I can't explain him, and we never had time to talk until near the time he died. He was very awkward in social situations.

A true enigma.

Sad, I'll never really know him. He died in 1990. I can't believe it. He was literally 53 years older than I. People though he was my grandfather. Very distinguished, handsome. You'd think he had the world in his hands. And he felt very lost.

I'll never know why.
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This is an incoherent rant, forgive.

Firstly, I find it fascinating how many MEN on this board ... and perhaps the board is skewed... are incredibly self-destructive. My sense of course is that this was part of you before the DP. Also, I think men self-destruct in more "masculine ways", more dangerous ways, have much higher risk taking behavior. I don't have statistics on that so I may be totally wrong, but it's what I see here.

I'm not physically self-destructive, and I don't sabotage myself with rec drugs, gambling, risky behavior....
but a lot of things that hit home for me actually in this.

I am at a nadir right now to be honest -- haven't given up on life completely but haven't been out of my apartment for about a week for lack of any motivation, lack of any good feelings about the future.

Someone here said, they have given up on life but doesn't even consider suicide as an option -- I feel exactly like that. I believe these feelings I have will pass, but I can identify with that. I'm not actively self-destructive in that sense, but passively self-destructive. I've sort of "given up" right now. Thrown up my hands at the crap thrown at me.

I've had some incredibly stressful things happen to me in the past few months and have found I have one physical disorder that can be limiting (but I don't want to go there), and another that is reminding me I'm getting old (don't want to go there either). I feel old at 46 and am not looking forward to things as I had last fall.

Right now, I look at my life with complete hopelessness to be honest, and I was very optimistic last fall.

Gem mentioned "fear of failure" -- I put my father into that category, and I put myself in that category for most of my life. Right now, I couldn't care less. I actually feel cursed right now. Kicked in the stomach just the right number of times to keep me from getting up for a while.

I was so excited about change and good things to come, and I literally in real life get socked with painful stuff that is really too much for me to handle. I've really withdrawn and shut down, though strangely my DP/DR is not a big problem right now. I'm more depressed again.

Anyway, my main observation is the powerful self-destructiveness of many men here on the board. The women can be self-destructive as well, but some of the men here even in this brief thread -- everyone seems to have "given up."

All I can say is, I feel that it has always been in my personality to see the worst possible outcome in things, and yet to push ahead when I can. Yet sometimes there are points where things are too much. And one sort of self-implodes in one way or another.

I don't even know what I'm talking about. But right now, I can't get anything accomplished. Nothing. I'm afraid of the future, and I ask, in my pitiful way, "Why me?" "How is it I ended up in this situation?" For me, the thing I ask is, "Why don't I have a family?" Why can't I pick up the phone and say, 'Mom I'm feeling lousy right now'" I NEVER could do that. My mother didn't give a shit about how I felt. I'm angry about that. That I have no family, etc.

I don't think I fit into the active self-destructive category here, and I guess I'm just venting again. But I feel passively self-destructive again, depressed, imploding on myself. "Why me?" etc. My life is one damned soap opera of misadventure it seems.

My personality doesn't allow me to take these inevitable life blows and keep going. I start giving up. And as I get older, it is more and more difficult to find hope, security, happiness. I feel worn down.

End of rant.

And Sebastian, yes, that film was brilliant. John Hurt was excellent as the casino boss, and it was indeed hilarious that the waiter, or janitor who brought Mahowny ribs is suddenly promoted to being his "escort". I loved that film. And yup, that was a true story. Happened in Canada in the 1980s I think? One of the largest embezzlement cases in the history of Canadian banking. I think Mahowny actually embezzled about 10 million from that bank he worked for.

All you men who posted here. You remind me in one way or another of my father, who while dying, said in a lucid moment, "I was a terrible surgeon, I was a failure." And yet many people came to his funeral to recognize all the good he had done as a doctor for so many years. He never believed it. And he self-destructed to add insult to injury.

Cheers all :roll:
D 8)
I have GOT to get out of this apartment or I will ROT. It is, for me, a giving up, that is self-destructive. But the men here have such dramatic ways of hurting themselevs. For women it is more "private" personal destruction? I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

Everyone should see "Owning Mahowny" -- a real gem of a character study, based on a real person. Brilliant acting by Hoffman and Hurt.
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terri* said:
To Wendy and Dreamer,

If someone you loved needed you to be there for them right now, could you ?

Terri, that's an excellent question. I think I could say yes. The sad thing is, I don't feel there is anyone in my life right now that needs me like that. I want to be needed, and I feel less and less that I am loveable or wanted myself.

Very good question. Very sad.

Wendy sorry you are in the dumps.

Shelly, yes, addictive personality was my first impression, and if it isn't one addiction it's another. Have you seen "Owning Mahowney"? Mahoney was "owned" by the casino so to speak, or more specifically by his addiction to gambling.

Ah, terri, all I want is a normal life right now. I can't seem to find it. And there's always a new curve ball.

Feeling quite sorry for myself.
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