Triggers part 2

So Paul and I have hit it off, and made plans for a date.  OMG, awesome!  Scary, but awesome!

All week I’m trying to balance between not coming off as desperate as I feel, while still showing enough interest.  The conversation turns wildly inappropriate at some point, mostly at my prompting.  Hey, this geek can dirty talk (and so could he)!

And then I saw my Therapist on Wednesday.

My therapist, Sid*, is a fucking boss.  I both love and hate him for this.  Transference, anyone?  I really wish he weren’t hot.  Fortunately, if my brain starts to wander that road, it just feels ICKY.  That, and I usually come out of sessions feeling pretty awful.  I know it’s good for me, but it’s pretty rough.  So that puts a damper on any inappropriate thoughts there, thank HP! Sorry, tangent!

I usually look forward to my therapy sessions.  All day Wednesday I’m kind of dreading it, because I know I need to tell Sid what’s going on.  Well, I really want to NOT tell him what’s going on, which I know is exactly the reason I need to tell him.  I hid my gambling from my first therapist.

He told me what I needed to hear.  Immediately after, I was still spinning it in such a way that would let me do what I wanted (have sex).  He says I need to accept myself more, and own my decisions/choices.  So, I can do something I know is a bad idea, as long as I accept that, and own the choice!

Well, yes, that’s all true.  I can knowingly do something that is bad for me.

By Thursday morning I’d processed it more, and I realize that, no, I can’t actually go through with something like that.  I know that I can’t in good conscience have sex with Paul.  I’ve been incredibly open and honest with him so far, (while at a conference on HOW–Honesty, Open-mindedness and Willingness!) so I need to tell him the whole truth.  That sex would be an addictive behavior for me, and I’d be trying to distract myself from the things I find unpleasant–such as the grief over getting a divorce.

I could have canceled our date.  But I didn’t want to!  So I set an alarm on my phone to go off 2 hours in, so that I make sure I tell him the truth.  (I turned the alarm off about half an hour before it was set to ring… *sigh*)  I also make the opening screen on my phone a blatant reminder I can’t ignore.

We go to dinner.  My stomach is in knots.  I really like this guy, and I know what I *need* to do, but am I going to have the strength to do it?  I wanted to tell him at dinner… but then he probably wouldn’t come over afterward!

So we watched TV and drank hard cider–a show I was almost certain he’d like, but hadn’t yet watched.  He’s being adorably awkward and flirty, and I’m a bundle of nerves.  I know he wants to kiss me.  I want to let him.  But I’m so torn about what I know I need to tell him, I’m a little stand-offish, and not making it easy on the poor guy.

I have to pee.  Really bad.  But I know he’s about to kiss me.

So we finally make out a little.  Which was fun!  But in hindsight, I’m kinda glad I had to pee, because I was really enjoying it. 😛

I stop him, and run to the bathroom.  Where I curse my conscience, and muster all the “do the next right thing”ness I can.  He can tell something’s bothering me when I come back, and he asks if he should leave.  I stumble over my words (the cider didn’t help!) and finally get out what I need to say.

He’s super nice, and understanding.  He says he’s glad I told him, he wouldn’t want to do something if I think I would regret it later.

So that was effectively the end of our date.  We talked a bit more, and watch a little more TV while he waited for a cab.

We hug, he leaves, and I wallow and drown my sorrows over the missed opportunity for sex.  Drinking that much was a bad decision, and I knew it, but of the bad decisions I could’ve made that night, it was the lesser of two evils.

Looking back, I think I was the most “myself” I’ve ever been on a date.  Recovery has probably made me even more honest.  I already considered myself a brutally honest person.  Now it’s probably more honest, less brutal.  Or maybe I didn’t have to try so hard, because I knew how I needed to end the date.  Anywho.

So i guess I have that to take away.  Improvement, maybe?

The other thing I’ve learned… maybe I need to not look for a job on the same site my husband used to look for sex.

Oh, and I finally went to another SLAA meeting today.  I’d been to two, but was really resisting a third.  Because I really didn’t want to give up those negative habits.  *sigh*  Gotta grow up sometime…


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