This is a question I’ve asked myself a lot. My name is Candy and I am a sex addict… apparently. I’ve been told by a medical professional that I have a sex addiction. I have a fairly addictive personality so this is perfectly possible I suppose. The problem is to me my urges are just normal. I’ve never known anything else so it’s not a problem to me. It’s not quite the same for my partners.
Having a Mrs that’s a sex addict sounds great right? Course it does! Except when you come home from a 12 hour day at work to find she fully expects to jump you when you walk through the door. And then again after dinner. And then again at bedtime. What about when she wakes you up at half 2 in the morning coz she’s horny and you’ve got to get up for work at 6? I was even trying to instigate sex whilst still full of stitches from child-birth. I’ve had partners leave me because they couldn’t keep up and felt inadequate against my needs. When I first lived with my ex I was so demanding sexually I made him cry by insisting on sex in excess of ten times in 24 hours. He was bleeding and unhappy. I was sulking that he had said no more. This was the point at which I sought help.
It’s down to a mix of hormones and an imbalance in the neurotransmitters in the brain. I was told I could be given an antidepressant which would help regulate the brain chemicals responsible for the overload in urges but who wants to live like that? I don’t want to tone down my urges. What if I kill them off? I genuinely would struggle to live without sex. It plays such a huge part in my life I just don’t know how I would fill the hole (pardon the pun).
The correct term for this is hypersexual disorder. Disorder. My sexual impulses are a fucking disorder. Except they aren’t! They are as much a part of what makes up me as my love of the colour pink or my dogs. The issue I have with this diagnosis is I just don’t accept it. To me it’s not an addiction it’s just a way of life. Just like some people like apples and some people don’t, there is bound to be a spectrum of sexual urges and I obviously sit on the higher end of the scale. I strongly object to something that I get such enjoyment from and which is a normal and necessary part of life being categorised the same as someone who injects chemicals into their veins knowing they’re slowly killing themselves.
The nature of my “addiction” means that I’m pretty much always thinking about sex. If I have a morning free alone I will always spend it watching or reading porn and wanking. Time with my partner will always result in a serious amount of sex. My porn habit is fairly phenomenal. Almost every book I read is erotica and I will watch Pornhub on a Saturday afternoon like my friends watch Netflix. I’m extremely hard to satisfy and even if a partner has the stamina to eventually get me to tap out I guarantee within an hour I’ll be schmoozing around them ready for round 2.
This leads to me being a bit of a nuisance. Trying to touch up partners in supermarkets, shopping centres, instigating sex in very public places with little concern for the consequences. This all sounds fun till you’re in Asda and trying to do a weekly shop. I have the greatest sympathy for my partners because I can imagine it’s as annoying as hell. However on my side of the fence it feels like permanent rejection. As much as my brain knows that if he says no after having sex with me twice already that it’s not really a rejection, my fragile ego will take it as such. It’s also true that in a long-term relationship living with someone that’s switched on 24/7 means eventually sex becomes a chore. In my previous relationship my needs basically put my partners libido into the grave. He simply couldn’t cope and stopped trying. He told me he would be happy to never have sex again. What a dreadful thing to admit. He told me during one of many arguments about the lack of physical activity in our relationship that it was like living with a sex pest. What a wake up call that was.
There definitely can be damaging elements to having very high sexual urges. I simply can’t go without. I can wank till I’m sore and bleeding if I’m not getting any. As a younger woman I would seek out sex purely for the act. There was no intimacy, no emotion and to be honest that was how I liked it. Easy to keep up with those needs if you’re not tied to one person. It’s led me to ruin relationships with my weakness and inability to curb my desires and hurt people I cared for. My single-mindedness will lead me to justify decisions made purely for selfish motives. The need to scratch that itch is phenomenally powerful.
I genuinely don’t believe love is needed to have great sex. And I don’t see why it should be that sex is reserved as a right for those in a relationship. Sex is a basic human need. To me it’s as vital as breathing or eating. There are definitely positive health benefits from an active regular sex life and I swear it stops me from committing murder daily. That being said I’ve come to understand love can enhance sex. Intimacy, as much as it terrified me, leads to a deeper connection and a more powerful experience. Love does lead to better sex because with the familiarity of love comes knowledge of and trust in your partner that can rarely be replicated by someone you just met in a club. However that doesn’t curb the urges it just focuses them on one poor unfortunate soul.
I’ve learned over time that it’s unlikely I’ll ever find someone who won’t find my sexual demands full on particularly once the relationship becomes established. And if I did it’d be likely we would die in some horrendous friction related combustion. However some of the very things that classify me as an “addict” (a porn habit, constant wanking) help me to make this manageable. I’m very lucky with my current partner, he matches my level of insatiability better than anyone I’ve ever met. This is a massive boost to my battered self-esteem. Even if he’s physically done, he’s brilliant at improvising until eventually I will tap out, so utterly unselfish. Sex toys can play a massive part in this and this is where lots of men should realise they can vastly enhance your sex lives and are not in any way, shape or form a replacement.
I refuse to accept the title of sex addict. People indulge in things they enjoy and get pleasure from all the time without the need for it to be labelled as a form of illness. I prefer to think of myself as the top of that spectrum of desires, having urges which need to be managed and not a sufferer of some heinous disorder.