64,999 Calls Too Many

I know this story out of the Netherlands has been out a few days, but I just heard about it last night. If you haven’t heard, a Dutch woman was arrested for stalking after she called her ex-boyfriend 65,000 times in one year. When you do the math, 65,000 calls in one year equals one call every 8 minutes.

My first reaction when I read this story was, “One call every 8 minutes? Pshaw, that’s not so bad.” I’ve certainly gone crazy once or twice (probably more like 10 times) before and called someone too many times when they did not want to hear from me. One ex told me later that he got almost 60 missed calls from me in one weekend. This was after a huge fight we had over him seeing another girl, at the end of which he told me he wanted to take a break. I did not want to take a break. He did not want to discuss it. So 60 calls in one weekend — totally justified, right?

Whenever I hear stories about stalker ladies — I’m also thinking of Lisa Nowak (I couldn’t remember her name so I googled “crazy astronaut lady” and her wikipedia page was the first to come up) and Dr. Jacquelyn Kotarac, who suffocated to death after trying to sneak into her ex-boyfriend’s house through the chimney — I’m terrified. I know that if I don’t get my shit together, someday I could become one of these poor women. Can you imagine if your death became the butt of a late night comedian’s jokes? Or if your entire amazing life and career is eclipsed by the fact that you couldn’t let go of your ex?

There are many people out there that don’t think sex/love addiction is a real thing. It saddens me, because I know that most men and women who suffer from this obsession/addiction/disease/whatever you want to call it, won’t get the help they would get if their addiction was alcohol, for example. I know there is humor in these stories, but for me there is also a lot of sadness.

I Wish I Could

“All we knew was that we could not go back into our active sex and love addiction again.”

I read this line today while reading “Step 3: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God,” in the Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous Basic Text, and it gave me pause. I know that I CAN’T, but sometimes I wish I could. I wish I could in a way that didn’t have consequences, that is.

I wish I could date and fuck whomever I please without getting obsessed with any of them. I wish I could fall in love/lust left and right, and then just move on when it got old without getting hurt or hurting anyone. I wish I could do all this, all while managing to find a partner, start a family, and have a career I am proud of.  I know some people CAN do this. I know because I have fucked some of them. There are many men who do just this, and if their wife never finds out (and the wives/girlfriends I know in this position are usually in too much denial to ever realize what is going on), their sexual and romantic actions are pretty much free of consequences.

But for me, there are consequences. I am an addict. When I get hooked on someone, I become obsessed, clingy, and needy — driving him away. When I am acting out there is no room in my life for healthy pursuits, like career or personal advancement. I end up staying up all night scouring the internet, trying to find every single thing I can about the object of my obsession, and then having to call in sick to work the next day. I end up putting myself in dangerous situations with dangerous people – getting assaulted, being secretly filmed, threatened, intimidated. I end up in situations where the police are called. And as low as those bottoms have been in the past, I know they will get even lower if I return to my active addiction.

It isn’t fair. I wish I could be some dick guy without any sense of guilt or un-wholeness, fucking and “loving” my way through a charmed life. I learned long ago, though, that life is seldom fair. I can indulge in a bit of wishful thinking, now and again, but I need to remember that acceptance of what is is the true key to serenity.