Werewolves and I have a lot in common. Though unlike the full moon which triggers a werewolf's cycle, mine is triggered by any number of things: financial stress, insecurity in my male friendships, irritation/frustration at home, boredom, self-disgust and loathing, running into somebody from my past, reading/viewing triggering pictures, places and news stories, isolation, the change of seasons, etc. etc.
The behaviors of werewolves and I, in the midst of our cycle, are also eerily similar:
Animalistic, carnal, lust for blood/flesh, wild, unsympathetic, transmit shit to others, callous, fitting stealthily into society, cunning, unfeeling, crafty, vicious, secretive, evil, wicked, and demonic.
Pretty scary, eh? It's easy for me to talk about my addict as if it's another person, b/c it almost is another person. He's my dark passenger. For example, as I write this post, I am completely sane. But should I be triggered into my cycle by any one of the means listed above, I become completely INsane and everything - wife, children, health, life, time, physical safety, reputation, freedom, employment, church, etc - goes out the window. The only thing that matters is getting my fix, no matter what. My sane self has checked out and the dark passenger, my INsane self; my addict checks in.
I stop at a gas station for a pop refill. I use the restroom. There are 2 urinals w/ no partition between them. I choose one and begin to pee. The door opens behind me and somebody triggering comes in, stands at the urinal next to me, unzips his pants, and begins to slowly masturbate. Now, I face a choice: A) do I zip up and turn around and quickly leave the restroom, or B) do I stay and let my DP take control? That is the tipping point; the apex. I give in: I stay, and continue to let my DP take over and allow warm temptation and beautiful addiction flood over me like a comforting, warm rushing wave. He motions me to an empty stall. I follow. No words are exchanged. I do not know anything about this person; not even his name. I am simply using him to help fulfill my natural, vulgar and carnal desires. We completely lose ourselves in wicked, lascivious lust, fueling our carnal desires and burning in our unnatural, same sex lust towards one another. There is no time. There is no wife, or kids, or consequence. There is no AIDS or disease. There is no possibility of getting caught (or perhaps there may be some fear of discovery, but that may also add fuel to the hotness factor). There is, simply, my FIX.
We cum, and just like the wave of lust and temptation that had washed over me a few moments ago, reality now crashes in w/ a sense of impending doom and real horrid fear. We both pull up our pants and get out of there as soon as possible, each of us going our separate ways. The guilt and the fear and the shame and the disgust and self-loathing is tremendously intense. I stuff it; stuff it down and push it away as hard as I can. Don't think about it....don't think about it. I go back to work and throw myself into a project to numb the fear and guilt and each time any shred of it creeps in, I push it further down inside. My guilt may lead me to pray and promise that I will never do it again and ask for protection and forgiveness. Or I may even confess my actions to my wife. Maybe that happens.
But usually, a few hours pass and the guilt and shame and fear of the incident have given way and morphed into a carnal, lust-laden memory of my lovely sin. I decide to masturbate at the memory of the carnal hook up, reigniting that lust and again fueling my carnal same-sex desires. I masturbate several more times that day, using the devilish anonymous hook up as my go-to mental trigger and pushing that guilt and shame and fear further down and out w/ each stroke.
The next morning dawns bright and sunny, bringing w/ it a phony promise that perhaps I will hunt and find an even better, hotter experience or find an even more ideal fix than the one I had the day before.
And so the cycle of the werewolf/addict has begun...
You know, being an addict fucking sucks. And it never goes away. It never will. Sure, I may gain some sobriety and control and allow God's grace to help me; but it will always be there, lurking in the corner. Just like cancer, it has eaten away my spirit and woven itself into every piece of my life. It has sickened and almost completely destroyed my spirit and caused me and so many others sadness and hurt. Gay sex, porn, cruising for sex, voyeurism, sex toys, masturbation, sounding, smoking, bizarre fetishes, soda pop, sugar and food...all of these contribute to this earthly hell and are my prison. They are the vehicle that allows my dark passenger to take control.