Tuesday, January 03, 2006

My name is not Prince

There was an article in Sunday's Gleaner (new year's issue), the Outlook section I believe, that spoke about Nymphomaniacs. As usual articles with such titles always catch my eye and thus interest. I read through and found out that they were basically recommending such persons to counselling if their pathologic behaviour was causing serious disruption to their lives. I thought about my own life and some of the struggles I went through and it saddened me. Not because I felt this vague pity for those afflicted, but because I knew that but by the Grace of God ......

Disheartened I looked at the criteria for diagnosing the seriousness of the problem. I had always joked that I ws a male nympho (younger days) if not by action, then indeed by thoughts and beliefs. Back then my email address was Satyr2@hotmail. A satyr is the male version of nympho (Greek mythology). The 2 was not because someone else had beat me to that name but because I fancied myself to be twice whatever the definition stated (couldn't get it to use squared superscript).

From as early as I can remember I had weird thoughts (pretty innocent but at that age I wasn't comfy with them). They weren't directed at anyone in particular and I paid them little heed. I divorced myself from those thoughts and they became quite impersonal.

I had no real interest in girls before 5th form, preferring my Nintendo. When the urge finally overtook me it was pretty damn powerful. I was fortunate to have been raised in a Christian home that also taught me about restraint. I simply continued to suppress whatever I thought was inappropriate. I never really talked about it much to anyone either, so I was alone with my conceptions and misconceptions. I got the standard book for teens and bought my own to supplement it (a Guide to sexual fantasy, Kama Sutra original and with modern models ). Why? I don't know!!!! I wasn't even doing anything at the time........... other than feeding the leviathon within.

I had two opposing forces working within me. One dying to get out and run amock and another that prided itself on being in control. Control freak kept other freak at bay most times.

Have you ever driven yourself to Ochi at 2am just to keep yourself out of trouble? Yet I just felt that I was ok.... just mal-adjusted. When the cravings became a tad bit too much I started talking to my spiritual advisor. He didn't think anything was out of the ordinary. That was good news for me. Exactly what I needed to hear. Mind you I never told him the really deep stuff... that would be uncivilized.

Then one day, after a culmination of events I just let go. It took me 4 yrs to recover from that. I barely held on to my sanity. Why? There was a standard of behaviour that I expected of myself. A certain level of control that I preached, situations I swore I could never be caught in, yet there I was, trapped and sinking faster than I could fathom.

Nuff nuff praying and cycles of switching addictions later I was back in control..... or so it seems. At least the ball is in my court again and I have to choose how I'm gonna play it. Me thinks I'll be ok for now. I keep busy as usual. I'm not in the old crowd that facilitated.

There is something in a name. So I dumped Satyr2 and remonikered myself with Strugglingchristian. All the passwords were changed too, because they just acted as reinforcers of that which I was discarding. I gave away the books, CDs and anything else that felt like it could send me back over the edge.

My spiritual advisor was amazed at my new found restraint, given my psychological profile (long story). It wasn't easy. I've fought a good fight. I've walked away from trouble when I could. I've kept myself very busy with all sorts of activities to keep my mind distracted. Yet through it all I still never really thought I was much different than any other warm blooded male. They even seemed to be doing far more than I was doing . But perhaps they have never left teeth marks in their bed head fighting answering two obvious booty calls for one night.

So what contributed to this? I can only think of what I did to escalate it. I don't know what else caused the problem. I started reading Sydney Sheldon books too early to deal with the material. Heck I read myself into most of the problem. Noone ever monitors a young man willing to read! They are just happy that he wants to.

Prince was my idol. Get Off was not my favourite song but it conveyed such an abandonment that I longed for that I revelled in it. He expressed what was running through my head day in and day out. Yet he also had cheesy little love songs. Kinda like the dichotomy which existed in me. The concept of his album "Come" was straight out of my head space. I had to get away from him.

Of course I regret giving away my CDs but I'll not ask back for them cause I don't trust me until I'm legal and its personal.

Despite the obvious omissions of details, this post is still pretty long. For those who understand its an invitation to talk if you want. For those who don't .... just add this to your list of reasons for avoiding me. I'm sure I've given everyone plenty before.

1 comment:

The Seeker said...

I so understand the teeth mark thing, still kicking myself to this day.