Last night I had a dream that I saw this house that was decorated with bright colors, strange sculptures. It looked extremely interesting and unique. I wanted to see what it looked like on the inside of the house too. I climbed up the front and was looking in the 2nd story window, hanging on to the strange sculptural additions they put on the outside.
Somehow I ended up inside.
Then I went downstairs and I heard, to my horror, that someone was on the phone in the next room with the door closed, and they had heard me in the house. I began to run for the front door, instantly debating through different senarios of how I could get out of it, what could I say, what excuse could I make? Then I woke up, feeling full of anxiety and fear at what would happen to me, still trying to think of ways to get out of it.
I felt so ashamed at what I had done, so trapped, and so bewildered at how I even ended up inside. Internally I was smacking myself in the head saying, “What could you be thinking going in there like that??”
If only they could see my heart that I wasn’t a thief, and I really didn’t even know how I ended up here inside their house. It just started by looking in the window and somehow I ended up inside. In the dream it was like I never conciously made a choice to go in, I was just inside.
Obviously it was illegal to be in their house. There was nothing I could say. I was in the wrong and there was nothing I could do about it. But how I wished somehow I could explain that it wasn’t my intention, that I’m just a normal guy who never breaks and enters houses, who has never stolen and it was never my intention to be there. But there I was, the facts spoke for themselves and my true heart could never be truly known.
I thought, maybe if I run out the front door really quick, close the door behind me, then knock on the door like I was just coming up the porch? Or maybe I could run fast enough to get away before I would get caught? But I knew those things wouldn’t work. I’m stuck.
I had another dream with a similar theme that I can’t remember clearly, where I was caught in my business supposedly doing something illegal or dishonorable that I never meant to do but there was no way out of it.
Ever felt like this about your sexual addiction?
This is totally how I feel about disclosing my sexual addiction to my wife and others I care about. The facts speak for themselves. There is no excuse. No way out. No explanation that could possibly make it better. But how I long for my true heart to be known. How I long to be understood, that I never meant for it to go this far, that in my heart I’m not the type of person who would hurt his wife in this way, who would have an appetite for such sexual things. I’m not the type of person, in my true heart, to be a voyueristic stalker, sexually selfish, unfaithful to my wife, desiring twisted sexual things, objectifying women. I’m not this type of person. How did I get to this place? I’m longing for my true heart to be known. But my true heart is dwarfed and obscured by the shocking reality of the addict within me. He is loud. He is crass. He is fighting to possess my life and he doesn’t care.
The only thing to do is surrender. It is a power stronger than I can control. Surrender to the power of God, the one who can restore my life. The one that can bring me into true freedom.
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