For as long as I can remember I have had an issue with pride.
I can remember back to the 4th grade when I was given a solo in the school Christmas program. I was all jazzed about getting to sing my heart out with my very own microphone. But then the week of the program, my music teacher decided she wanted another girl to sing with me.
Even on the night of the program I remember pushing myself ever closer (and pushing her further away) to the microphone so that my voice would carry over hers. After all, I had been given the solo. It wasn’t right that I had put “so much work” into my solo to only have it taken from me just days before I was set to perform.
Every once in a while that ugly pride monster comes out again. But there is nothing more dangerous that when he shows up in midst of my sobriety walk.
November 19 will mark my 7th year of long-term sobriety from pornography and sexual addiction. It is an awesome milestone to be reaching. But I will be honest with you that my sobriety has not always been stable.
And I admit now that following this past (and somewhat still present) season of busyness and stress (writing my book, job stress, DGM planning for 2011, etc.) I have not been good at keeping in continuous accountability with someone. Neither have I actively worked the steps of sobriety. And by doing so I have put myself at greater risk of relapse.
When life gets this way and my defenses are weakened I tend to do one of two things: 1) suck it up and ask for help or 2) exhaustion sets in and I begin to isolate myself. And unfortunately lately I have been doing the latter.
I isolate in order to deal with it myself because anymore my addiction to pornography and sexual behavior are not my biggest addictions.
My biggest addiction these days is my own pride.
It is a blow to my pride to admit that I don’t have it all together. It is a blow to my pride to admit that I still need help. It is a blow to my pride that even as an addiction counselor/ministry director I still need to work the steps. It is a even a blow to my pride to be writing this post.
But the reality is . . . the greater blow to my pride would be having to admit I had a relapse . . . which the way I have been living could easily have caused.
I am thankful for friends who know me well enough to ask the tough questions and who chase me when I begin to runaway/hide. And who challenge me not to forget to care for myself in midst of caring for others.
Because regardless of how busy life gets, or how many awesome opportunities for DGM come—my OWN sobriety and my OWN integrity must come first.
And your own sobriety needs to come first in your life too.