Sin Dressed as an Angel

You're a Sin Worth Sinning

"My name is Tine Teepakorn and I'm addicted to sex."

Someone in the circle of trust snorts and the sound is quickly followed by shuffling around and a feigned cough to cover it. Tine doesn't look towards the source of it, lifting dark eyes towards the ceiling instead, with a long and tired sigh — exasperated.

It's always the same.

This is his fourth treatment centre (he doesn't like to label it as 'rehab') now. It's the fourth time he's tried to (forced to) cleanse himself of this problem that he can't seem to shake from his shoulders. It's not the first time that the very same problem hasn't been taken seriously by those around him — those that are here who are solely in rehabilitation for things more relating to drug, or drink.

Tine understands that. His own vice often goes hand-in-hand with the consumption of alcohol and various drug use, if only to try and keep his mind numbed and straying elsewhere. Somewhere different. Somewhere fun.

It's never any fun, though. And also, drugs are expensive.

And as much as Tine toys around with those things, it's not any of them that controls him — it's sex.

The physical touch of somebody else other than himself. The weight of another body against his own. Heavy breathing, flushed skin, dilated pupils, and mouth parted on a satisfied moan — sex — the release that makes everything quieter and lighter, like there's nothing weight him down. That is what ultimately controls Tine and motivates every action he takes. To date, it has caused nearly every problem in his life and has placed him into treatment facilities time and time again, but a solution has never been found.

How do you help a sex addict?

And Tine understand the core of his issues well. Fear of abandonment, low self-esteem, and the need to feel accepted drives him into the arms of another and, while he knows that sleeping around has yet to solve any of those things, he still cannot deny his need for a quick fix.

So, yes, as silly as it might sound to those who's struggling with something more tangible, Tine's addiction is still exactly that — an addiction, which he shouldn't be judged upon his character.

Just because he is one doesn't mean he's sleazy, out of control, untrustworthy and even dangerous.

He's harmless ...

Most of the time, he suppose.

From her chair, the group discussion leader gives a sharp, "Shh," in the direction of whomever had laughed under their breath, before she directs her attention back at him. Tine knows she's expecting him to say more now, he's sure. That's the point of these meetings — they are all supposed to be able to talk openly and freely, without prejudice here.

Tine is new to this place in particular, but the past three that came, as a result of his aunt's intervention, he came to the conclusion that judgement is unavoidable, regardless of where you go.

No one takes it seriously.

That's why he simply ignores them. No point in justifying his addiction as an addiction.

No.

Tine had actually thought that he'd gotten better all three of those times, when really, afterwards, he had gone all of a week at the most, before he was back to taking a new partner to bed every night for a quick fuck.

Three failed attempts. He's decided that this really is his last try.

This time it's for real; he went in with the intention and purpose of coming out fixed.