I am a Good Man. I am a Good Man. I am a Good Man.

A sex addict finds that it’s not always easy to believe the affirmations he learned in treatment.

18. I am a worthwhile and lovable human being.

The list of 23 affirmations is taped to my bedroom door. I learned them during my stay at a treatment center for sex addiction (I wrote about that experience in a recent article), and we’re supposed to say them out loud but sometimes I kind of just mutter. It strains the truth to believe that “I like myself unconditionally,” no matter how many times I repeat the phrase.

I’m so ashamed of the scandalously immoral and just plain gross things I’ve done over the years that it takes a huge suspension of belief on my part to even glance at that piece of paper as I do my morning rituals. But I know I should, and I do.

I got out of inpatient treatment for sex and pornography addiction in late April; since then I’ve broken up with my girlfriend, admitted everything to my boss, and grown even closer to my tight-knit and supportive family.

I got a sponsor and do weekly therapy appointments. I take tennis lessons and go to the gym. In short, I’m doing all the things that I’ve read are crucial to recovery. But I’ve also relapsed twice in days-long sessions of porn, sex with said ex, exhaustion, and intense remorse afterwards. And it’s in those post-binge moments that I curse my red-eyed face in the mirror and wonder if I’ll ever be the good person I want to be.

What was the point of treatment if I keep doing the same rotten crap? Is there a way to finally convince myself—after years of being suicidally self-critical—that I can change for the better?

♦♦♦

6. I am not my actions. I am the actor. My actions may be good or bad. That doesn’t make me good or bad.

I can’t even count the hours we spent in rehab working on this concept, but it’s still the toughest one to spit out. Shame reduction. Separating you from the addict who cheats on his girlfriend, does illegal shit in strip clubs, has kids with his mistress, or exposes himself to passing women.

I haven’t done all that stuff, but I’ve met lots of men who have and worse. Like me, they hang their heads when they tell their story. I’ve made a ton of progress, and when I’ve strung together some days of sobriety I do manage to get that separation, to see myself as a person suffering from a treatable illness and not as some remorseless monster.

But this summer it’s been damn easy to fall back into that well of despair, letting the slips gnaw at my already low self-esteem. I think recovery from sex addiction requires me to at least pay lip service to #6 and worry about truly understanding it later. We’re instructed to say the affirmations “whether you believe them or not,” and in the regretful mornings after acting out, I give them a shot.

5. I am a fallible human being, who makes mistakes.

No shit, but…

17. I am loyal, forgiving, and gentle to me.

It helps to say #5 and #17 back to back, especially on days when I’ve ended a binge period, cleaned my house, and shaved for the first time in awhile. Addiction is hard on my mind, body and soul. Forgiving myself for my actions—and truly believing that I can and will get better by sticking to the program—is the way out of relapse, time and again.

But it’s not easy. I get horribly mad at myself for blowing a good sobriety period, and I always dread having to come clean to my sponsor and therapist. I have so much guilt about relapse, especially when I think of how much my family paid for rehab.

Are they going dismiss me as some incorrigible perv on whom they wasted 32 grand? Thoughts like that make me want keep my mouth shut. Those in my inner circle have offered their full support, but I hate telling people I’ve screwed up again.

♦♦♦

7. I do not have to prove myself to anyone. I need only to express myself as honestly and effectively as I am capable.

Saying this one helps bring me back to life. Our recovery literature warns us not to cling to sobriety dates like trophies, and I’m always tempted to lie to my 12-step group and await my next monthly chip like everything was cool. But what does that prove?

Being as honest as possible with everyone reduces shame on the spot, far more than putting on a plastic smile and crowing about fake sober time. One of the biggest epiphanies of my weeks in treatment—the staff pushed me toward it with a cattle prod, but still—was realizing that people still loved and respected me despite my misdeeds.

My family isn’t going anywhere, and my rehab peers sure as hell aren’t in a position to judge. So I get honest. In rehab I told my entire sordid history, start to finish. Once out, I learned to go into vivid detail about my relapses without holding back. It sometimes takes me a few days to work up the courage, but the alternative is stewing in my own shame and secrecy, and that only makes things worse.

20. I now choose to love, to accept, to embrace, and to fully appreciate myself unconditionally.

I always say this one last, because this is where the leap of faith comes in. I’m still racked with remorse over the things I’ve done, and those feelings aren’t going away just yet. But #20 reminds me that I’m making sincere efforts to change my life, working a program of recovery, and making amends to people I’ve harmed.

Yeah, some of the affirmations are corny. And it’s weird to stand in my doorway shouting “I am enough!” at myself. But doing so (most) every morning helps me chip away at the mountain of self-loathing that’s ruled my life to this point, and gives me a small window of hope that I might not be such a bad person after all—that my life is worthwhile enough to keep on the path of recovery, at least for another day.

To learn more about sex addiction, and to find referrals to therapists, 12-step groups, or treatment centers, visit The Society for the Advancement of Sexual Health.