Clifford tells you how to come out ahead during a financial crisis.
IT'S NOT TOO LATE!
Clifford and Norm's
New Year's Resolutions
Norm Comes Clean:
"I Am A Sexaholic" (Part I)
Alas, one of the most boring people on earth has something exciting to
tell us about himself.
My name is Norman and I am a sexaholic. There, I said it. I've
been plagued by this awful disease - and yes it is very much a disease - my
entire adult life.
Sexaholism (pronounced "sexaholism") does not discriminate by gender -
though 99% of sexaholics have been found to be male - at least the ones that I have
met - unfortunately.
I can trace my sexaholism to my childhood. As I see it now, my parents were virtual sexaholics, though the
condition had not, at that time, been identified as such by the scientific
establishment. Though I still find it hard to believe, Mom and Dad
often engaged in lovemaking as frequently as once per week! Can you
To add fuel to the fire, sometimes my parents would spontaneously
hug and kiss in plain sight, as though I wasn't even there! And on at least one occasion, I
found them taking a shower together! The sound of water beating down
on the tub floor, and the gentle conversation emanating from behind the
bathroom door will forever be etched in my mind. To this very day, I
find it difficult to bathe, and avoid it whenever possible.
Growing up in
what I now see as a sexaholic household seemed quite ordinary, at least on
the surface. We watched television together, celebrated Thanksgiving,
Halloween and Valentine's Day together. My dad and I even tossed a
baseball around now and again, but now I realize something was amiss.
Even before puberty, the intoxicating artifacts from my parents'
unusually frequent sexual activity were left out in plain sight. One
day after school, I snuck
into my parents' bedroom in the early evening, and lit one of the scented
candles they kept by the bed.
Looking back on it now, I think my fascination with the candles must have been a desperate attempt to escape my feelings of inadequacy and
isolation caused by the knowledge of my parents' rampant sexual behavior.
Or possibly, the electricity was out again (we had faulty wiring) - I just
can't remember. I do recall, though, that the candles smelled weird, yet
intoxicating, kind of like the aroma of my mother's salmon casserole.
In spite of being aware that what I was doing was wrong, I couldn't help
myself from returning the next day and the day after that, even when the
electricity was actually working, to light up the candles and take a deep
Hair All Over
As I reached the age of
twelve, strange things started happening to my body. Hair was popping
up in the most awkward places and worse, I began to have salacious thoughts
about my history teacher, Mrs. Almqvist. Suddenly, the Peloponnesian
war was taking on a whole new meaning. I was hooked on the fantasy of
with this middle aged, very subtly attractive woman, especially when I
passed a scented candle.
As the wave of puberty washed over me like a bucket of dirty water, I
began to pursue girls my own age with the intent of having sex with them.
Time goes by so very slowly when you are rejected by just about every girl in
But then, in my senior year, it finally happened - at least it happened
for me (though I'm not sure whether it happened for Jenny.) My first
experience of love making was brief, and also a little messy. But
there was a rush of intensity, a feeling of victory, and a desire to let all
my friends know what had just happened. I felt completely on top of the
But as as I see it now, from my current perspective of a married man with
children, the triumph of your first time with a woman often snowballs into
an expectation of actually having sex on a regular basis for the rest of
your life - and that can lead to the heartbreak of sexual addiction.
Adulthood, And My Rude Awakening
In my twenties and thirties, I went about my life in happy-go-lucky
fashion, dating various women in a series of long-term and not so long-term
relationships. Frequent lovemaking became the norm as I grew older.
Then, something happened that made me realize how addicted I had actually
become to sex - I got married. Suddenly, the frequent sexual activity
that I had experienced prior to matrimony had come to an abrupt halt,
interrupted only by my wife's frantic attempt to get impregnated.
As children came into our lives, and with them, the shutdown of all
lovemaking whatsoever, my mind cleared long enough to have an epiphany...
"I am a sexaholic!" It was an epiphany that I kept
totally to myself. I suffered in silence through a painful state of withdrawal.
Unlike many men suffering from my condition, I chose not to go outside the household to get my "fix."
Rather, I resorted to what I refer to now as my "methadone" treatment:
that's right, pornography. First it was a stack of old Super8 films
that I found in a trash bin, though it was really hard to watch these
without a projector. Then it was VHS tapes and DVD's sent to me at a P.O.
Box in Newark. Indeed the pornography, itself, was becoming an
addiction all its own.