Ultimately, we all live with ourselves. There is no escape from ourselves - even by suicide, I believe. The discomfort we all feel being surrounded by real people in recovery is just having a mirror shown to us, as the BeSh"T taught us. We sense our own ugliness, but "see" only theirs. I take advantage of every oppoertunity I get to admit openly in a safe environment that I am a sexaholic, that I naturally gravitate toward using lust, that I am allergic to it, and that my disease is progressive, chronic, and guaranteed to be fatal should it progress enough c"v. It frees me to let go and be free of lusts power. It gives me life, and gave new life to my family.