The Crusade (standard:other, 2735 words)
Author: Lucky Wilson	Added: Nov 16 2007	Views/Reads: 3106/2090	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Finding the meaning of addictions.

It is said that everyone has a story.  Well here is mine.  I know that
my life is centered around two distinct addictions—food and sex.  When 
I first began this journey, I believed that my addiction to sex was not 
as strong as my addiction to food, but I soon realized that I was 
wrong.  My addiction to food is simple; it feels a void, a hole that I 
have inside of me.  I eat and eat and eat and eat until I am sick and 
still there is there void, that darkness, that abyss that seems to grow 
bigger each day.  I eat more to try to keep it from consuming me, but I 
think I have lost that battle and the end result, the war. My sexual 
addiction comes in different parts, so it's hard to believe it's an 
addiction.  See most people with sexual addictions have one thing that 
seems to be out of control for them.  Some people are addicted to 
pornography and can't escape its undeniable pull; others are addicted 
to the physical act of sexual intercourse.  I have an addiction to both 
aspects.  I cruise the internet and adult bookstores for the 
pornographic film that will appease my deep seated urge, then I turn to 
websites to meet men that I know will never truly appreciate me.  I 
meet them for these meaningless encounters, hoping against hope that 
this would be the time that I would fill that void, but minutes after 
the end of the fevered tryst, inside I am left bare.  As I put on my 
clothes, I realize that the void is bigger than before and I can't keep 
doing this, I have to stop this madness.  I smile sweetly to whomever 
it is that thinks that he or she has pleased me beyond the pale, 
promise to contact them again, but before the last button is done, I 
have forgotten their name, their face, their being because I am already 
on the internet looking for my next prey.  They are sucked into my void 
hoping for the possibility of more of my sweet attention, but I do not 
give more and my back is turned and I am once again left alone. 

When you ask most people if they know why they have their addictions,
they can't pinpoint the moment, but I can.  I can tell you exactly when 
my life was changed for ever and when my destiny was changed from one 
filled with love and belonging to one of desperation and anxiety.  I am 
doomed to roam this planet in search of some mysterious plug that will 
satisfy and please equally and will be mine and mine alone.  I 
rationalize my anxiety and desperation for fear that if I really look 
at it, it will pull me down into the lowest depths of hell; so deep 
that even Satan himself would not dare to come to look upon those 
charges.  From that unforgiving and unforgettable moment, my life was 
altered without my consent and without my knowledge.  This darkness I 
carry inside of me is weighing me down and I can no longer carry it 
like Jesus carried his cross.  This is neither a burden that I did want 
nor one I asked for, so now I must find a way to get rid of it before 
it slowly, but surely kills me. 

My darkness is child abuse.  When I was four years old I was sexually
molested by a neighbor/family acquaintance. He came over to see my 
mother and said he would baby sit me while she did some things.  He 
took me to his house, where he proceeded to take me to his bedroom.  He 
laid me across his queen sized bed, took down my orange terry cloth 
shorts and Strawberry Shortcake underwear to expose my hairless child 
vagina.  He then proceeded to put his mouth on my vagina and tell me it 
was okay and it was something good.  I like a fool went along with it.  
Before he could go any further, an old lady from across the street 
could see into the front bedroom window where we were and was coming 
across the street.  She was asking what was going on loudly as she 
walked across the street to save me.  He quickly pulled up my clothes 
and rushed me from the bedroom.   He later brought me a box of ice 
cream sandwiches, which I devoured and he took me home.  I remember 
telling my imaginary friends about what happened to me and I never went 
alone anywhere with him again.  I realized it was nothing that I should 
talk about, so I have kept this darkness within me since that horrible 
time.  I never told my mother and she died not knowing the thing that 
kept me from loving her like a daughter should.   After a while I began 
to blame my mom for not protecting me and being too busy with her the 
men in her life to see that this guy whom she partied with every 
weekend and entrusted her first born to, was a child molester who would 
have done other things if he had had the opportunity. 

Shortly after that I went to live with my grandmother because my mom had
found another man that was not interested in having kids around.  The 
story of my life.  I loved my Nannie—she  protected me and it seemed 
she could see that void in me before I could because she would feed me 
all day and night.   She knew which people to trust and which ones were 
no good and were up to no good.   I never told my Nannie about the 


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