Tomorrow is the day she goes. So, tonight’s her last night - assuming whe even stays here. She’s going out and I don’t know if she’ll return here or go to her boyfriend’s.
Pining. I think that’s the word for what I’m doing now. I’m mourning her departure before she’s even gone. In a few days, most of the desire to spy on her again will have dissipated, but I’ll be left with the feeling of loss that comes from having a child move out of home. I’m sure it will get better over time, but I suspect this feeling will flare up each time she visits.
EDIT: Well, wouldn’t you know it… She did come back home. And she did bring her boyfriend over. And they did have sex (as far as I can tell), but they turned off the light! Good move guys! Yes, I’m spewing that I missed it, but not as much as I would’ve thought.
And now: time for bed. Proper recovery starts tomorrow.
EDIT #2: I should also record that the act of turning out the light and putting on the radio makes me wonder whether she thought I might try and watch. After all, I was awake when they returned at 2am. It also makes me wonder if they might have left the light on had I been in bed.
Amber’s leaving. The excitement of moving out of home has hit and she’s about to move in with friends. This is a big deal for me:
- The addicted voyeur in me screams “No! I wanted to see more of Amber and her boyfriend having sex!”
- The recovering voyeur in me says “This is good - a trigger is about to disappear and I can get on with my recovery”.
Sadly, the former seems to be the stronger force right now and I’m feeling rather down. She just left to stay the night with her boyfriend and my head is full of lament that she didn’t invite him over here instead. Now there’s only one night left before she goes out into the big wide world.
So, my recent relapse is about to come to an end, which is good. Even tonight I had that familiar sensation of stress and shaking, just because of the remote possibility that she might invite him here, in which case I would have taken the risk of going to look through her window. Now she’s over at his place and I’m safe.
Of course, beyond the lost trigger and new opportunity for recovery, there is another impact from her departure: I’ll miss her. I couldn’t ask for a better step-daughter and it’s sad to see her go. But I am excited for her and she’ll hopefully stay in contact.
I love Sophie and wish to stay with her for years to come. But I still sometimes develop feelings for girls. I just received an email from a friend who has four beautiful daughters, and she casually mentioned the boyfriend of her eldest daughter, Emma. There’s a silly fantasy in my mind about dating Emma when she reaches her twenties, so it’s a bit of a blow to hear that this sweet 17 year old is “taken”. But there’s also a part of me that is happy for her and wishes her well.
In a dream this morning, I was either on a train, or browsing through a shop at a train station, when a firm hand gripped my upper arm and a voice said something like “you’re coming with me”. Apparently, I had been acting suspiciously, wondering through the train looking for girls, so this security guy came to apprehend me for “sexual assault”, as he put it.
Another reminder that recovery is worthwhile.
I relapsed. I need to write this here to strengthen my resolve to go back to focusing on my recovery.
Sophie had to go out for a while last night, and I watched Amber change into her pyjamas. Afterwards I felt nervousness and a feeling that I could be discovered, or - even without discovery - damage my relationship with Sophie.
My rationalisation for this relapse is particularly lame: I’ve been wanting to see Amber and her boyfriend having sex (”just once, then I’ll stop… well, as long as I get to see her climax… oh, and oral sex would be a thrill too”). But now that she has a car, she can drive to his place, and I haven’t yet seen him here. With one deviant outlet going nowhere, but still playing on my mind, I thought to myself “one more time won’t hurt, so long as the risk is reduced by Sophie being out”. Bad thinking.
Resolve: No more watching Amber getting changed. Too much negative energy comes from it. I’ll post again in a few days to let you know how it’s going.
Amber has long wanted a tattoo of a dragon design she likes, and has finally taken the plunge. For me, though, it’s rather triggering, as it’s not in a place that she’s comfortable showing me. Not being able to see it, my mind is dwelling on it a bit at the moment.
I’m currently a little forlorn, and I think there’s more to it than the desire to see a little flesh. It’s the desire to connect with her and be trusted. It’s comforting and even a little exhilarating when she talks openly with me. But the converse is also true: I feel a but low when she cuts off. Of course, it’s perfectly okay for her to not show me a tattoo, but with the combination of curiosity and missed opportunity to share her happiness, I’m finding it hard right now.
Thankfully, typing this has helped already.
Last night I was reminded of one of the benefits of being in recovery: sleep.
See, Amber has a new boyfriend, and my dodgy, rationalising mind says “I’ll just watch them having sex once or twice, then I’ll go into full recovery mode”. I haven’t met him yet, but Amber went out last night, and I got it in my mind that she might bring him home after the nightclub closed. As a result, I had a lot of trouble getting to sleep. I told myself that I wouldn’t get up and watch if they did come back, but I still remained awake. Eventually, she come home (about 3am) - without boyfriend - and I got to sleep.
- I still need to do more work on my recovery to avoid doing dangerous things.
- I’ve had another taste of the stress and sleeplessness that should serve as a good reason for continuing to work on my recovery.
Sophie’s out tonight and Amber has gone to bed. I’m typing this instead of looking through her bedroom window. :-)
Of course, there’s temptation, since it has only been a few weeks since I stopped. But I know that if I give in once, it’ll be extremely easy to keep doing it. At least the temptation lessens over time.
Now, when it comes to fighting addiction, you have to be specific about your goals. Here’s an example of what I mean… I decided to stop watching Amber through her bedroom window, and so far I’ve been successful. But my deviant mind still looks for other outlets, and I need to close them off one-by-one. I continued, when the house was otherwise empty, to sneak into Amber’s room and masturbate while when was in the shower. No less risky, but I rationalised it as “but I’m not spying on her”.
From now on - no more playing Russian Roulette at shower time…
I said that it looked like Amber may have another boyfriend. Turns out that it was a very short-lived relationship: he has called it off, saying that he’s got someone else.
This left me with mixed feelings:
- Feeling sorry for her. I care a great deal for Amber (I mean in an appropriate step-parent manner) and I feel for her when bad stuff happens and share her excitement when good stuff happens. She has been through a break-up recently, and this “relationship” was even shorter.
- Happiness that a very strong trigger has just gone away. The shaking I experienced last night when she brought him home was a strong indicator that voyeurism is way too stressful.
- Disappointment that I didn’t get a fix. My addiction says “just let me see them have sex once, and then I’ll stop”. From this diseased perspective, the ideal situation would have been for the relationship to last a few more days, ending just after seeing them in bed together.
I’m pleased to say that happiness at losing a trigger was stronger than the disappointment at having missed out on a good time. She’ll no doubt meet someone else before too long, but for my sake, it would be nice if it takes a while; time for me to build up stronger defences to this type of trigger.
Since the initial reactions above, I have found a condom in her bin. This increases the disappointment feeling somewhat. I did look through her window last night and they were kissing, after having been out clubbing. I couldn’t stay to watch, as Sophie was not yet asleep. While I waited for Sophie to sleep, so that I could go and spy with reduced worry about being caught, I heard Amber walk her boy out to his car. So, I assumed that they hadn’t done the deed, but now I realised that they did - I just wasn’t quick enough to catch it. Of course, that’s a good thing, but it left me thinking “damn!”. I’m pleased to say that this feeling didn’t last too long.
I also discovered (through her IM history) that they did have sex when they got together at a party last week. I had been feeling that he had just used for for a shag, then dumped her. Which I guess is true, but knowing that they had already had sex makes it feel less abusive. Not that she feels any better because of it… I hope Amber feels better soon and doesn’t let herself feel like she’d not worthy of having a boyfriend.
I’m starting a new category: “reflection”. A place to reflect on my life; the lead-up to my voyeurism, including earliest sexual memories and the path to deviancy.
What’s the point? To see how I got here and better understand the challenge of overcoming my voeurism addiction.
To start with, here are two of my very first memories about sex:
I’m pretty sure I was masturbating to orgasm before I started ejaculating. I tended to do this prone (lying on my stomach, rubbing back and forth). I recall days when I was staying with my grandmother and playing hide and seek. The space between the back of the couch and the wall was like a tunnel and I loved to hide there. I think I could also hide under one of the beds. When I discovered the joy of rubbing myself on the floor, it took a little longer before I came out from my hiding spot…
Interaction with girls
I never got along well with kids my own age. Even if someone were to say something nice to me, I’d assume that they were being sarcastic. One day, walking to/from school, a couple of girls were walking behind me, giggling to each other. One of them called out something like “nice arse”, which I hastily ignored, pretending that I hadn’t heard. Even though I assumed they were teasing me, I recall having some sexual thoughts about that incident.
From vague feelings to sexual thoughts
I think it was in Year 9 that my feelings and fantasies got more explicit. There was a girl I liked in one of my classes; she liked me too, and I still regret that I never “asked her out” when I had the chance. My early fantasies were just about spending time with her, being in love. I’m not sure if kissing factored into the equation at that point. Over time, the fantasies developed a little further. I imagined the two of us spending time together while my parents were out, including having a spa bath together, with lots of suds.
In future posts, I’ll look at how I realised I was a paedophile, as well as the start of my tendencies towards voyeurism and collecting young girls’ clothes.