Prayer: I will make a commitment to include a regular inventory in my new pattern of living.
I wake up with the same kind of sadness that I felt near the end of my relationship with France. I’m sad because I feel myself disconnecting from him and in some way, I’ve completely accepted it. I’ve decided to stop fighting and to stop trying to make him see things my way. Ultimately he sees things in his way and always will and I see things my way. Neither one of us is right or wrong; it just is what it is.
I get a text from him that states:
“Morning, :)”
I text back with the same and I know that ultimately we are both playing games.
He asks how I am and I answer with the usual pleasantries, but the whole exchange is void of any real emotion.
I head into work and get a call from my doctor’s office. My blood work is back and my hemoglobin levels are high, which puts me at risk for clots. What’s most troubling is that my testosterone levels are extremely low, like almost non-existent. Normal testosterone levels are between 8.4 and 24. Mine are currently at 0.7, which explains my complete and utter disinterest in sex. Normally my doctor would put me on testosterone, but because my hemoglobin levels are so high, they can’t. My doctor tells me that she is sending me to an endocrinologist for further testing. Low testosterone can also explain my current skin problems, my weight gain around my waist, the constant exhaustion that I have and the depression that I have been struggling with. I shared with my doctor all about my drug and steroid use and she states that by now, these should have leveled out. Silver lining is that my liver and kidneys are fine despite the toxic waste that I’ve sent their way. On one hand, I’m happy to know that there’s an actual physical explanation for the decrease in my sex drive because at first my doctor told me that she thought it was psychological. On the other hand however, this news creates a lot of anxiety. I fear that this is the final nail in the coffin for my relationship. The one thing we’ve always had is sexual chemistry and since we’ve been back together, there hasn’t been any. I look at him and he’s stunning physically, but I have no desire for sex at all – with him or anyone. I don’t even jerk off. Having no sex drive is very emasculating and I feel like less of a man at the moment. As a gay man without a sex drive; I feel old, washed up and insignificant.
I spend the rest of the day in a bluesy depressed fog. I’ve barely texted France and hesitate to even share this news with him, seeing that most times when I approach him with information or struggles; it’s seen as though I’m complaining.
As I head home from work, I call France to check in and also because I can’t play these games anymore. I ask him what he’s doing and he says that he’s taking his dog to the park.
No invitation.
I’m always the one asking to do things and it feels pretty pathetic. My psychiatrist has told me time and time again that this is a power play that he does and that has basically existed in our relationship since the beginning. The problem is that I keep engaging in it. The sad thing is that he fails to understand or see lately, that the more he plays this angle, the less in love I am with him and the further away it pushes me. Whereas before it kept me desperate and running to him; now all I want to do is run in the other direction. I feel that I’ve done all that I can to change the dynamics of this relationship, that I’m actively working on myself, but I feel like I’m the only one making any effort.
We take the dog to the park and I just lay o the blanket in the evening sun. I’m so sad tonight as I watch him play with the dog. It’s just so sad that we are here again. He sits next to me and though we are going through the motions and from the outside looking in we look happy; reality is that we are the farthest thing from being in an intimate relationship. It’s pretty, but it’s not real.
I grab sushi before my meeting and France runs upstairs to drop the dog off. As I sit outside waiting for him to join me, I cry. I cry behind my sunglasses, on this gorgeous night in July. I have everything going for me right now. Earlier today, I received a message back from an editor at The Advocate magazine. I pitched him the idea of Diary of an Addict as a series and he responded saying that he was potentially interested, but that he would have to discuss it with some more people at The Advocate.
I’ve dreamed of writing for this website. I’m 60 days sober tomorrow. I’m moving into my own place next week. I have a fabulous holiday planned with my sponsor in just over a month today.
So why am I crying?
I feel like a failure. Despite all indications in other areas of my life proving differently, I feel like a failure at love.
And there it is.
I feel like a failure at love.
I feel like I’m never going to get it right.
I feel alone.
I eat my food and we say goodnight – again, nothing spoken about the elephant in the room.
I make my way to the meeting and as soon as I arrive, I’m surrounded by love and by people that I love. Dan, Aron, John, Chase and Brandon are all there. Sadness melts away and gratitude quickly takes its place.
I’m not alone.
I’m surrounded by love.
I’m surrounded by real love.
After the meeting I call France as I said I would and I ask if we are going to talk about what happened and what’s been happening, particularly around his trip to Vegas. He says there’s nothing to talk about until he decides whether or not he goes. I just say ok and tell him that I have to call Chase, which is a lie. I just can’t talk to him anymore. Again, he’s played it wrong and by trying to retain power, he’s lost me even more.
Go to Vegas.
Go to Francel.
Go wherever you want Pierre, because it doesn’t matter anymore.
I drive home and head to bed. I’m in between mourning and freedom.
Diary of an Addict 