Dr. Randall

"We have about forty five minutes today, okay Isabella?"

Dr. Randall sat disconcertingly upright in a stiff looking leather office chair. It made me grateful to be the one on the couch.

"That'll be good" I said.

Obviously. You're not going to have me all day.

Therapy was new to me; this was my sixth session. I'd like to say that I was forced to be here, but it was actually a personal choice.

Dr. Susan Randall had presented me with a thick packet of paperwork prior to our first session. One of the questions was 'why are you seeking therapy.'

I didn't know, so I answered the question simply, 'I feel lonely.'

We had already spent six sessions talking about my past; about my family, about my job, and about my myriad of sexual relationships. Dr. Randall had determined by session four that my promiscuity was the result of my loneliness. That came as no shock. It was the other part, the "diagnosis" that had me dumbfounded.

We were going to talk about it again today. Doc was telling me that in order to combat the problem, we needed to isolate its origin. She began the session by offering some insight into the disorder she had marked me with.

"Sex addiction is rare in women, Bella. Can you guess why?"

"Maybe because we aren't as sexually charged as men are?" It was my best guess.

I was making an effort, here.

"It's a very common assumption, Isabella, but no. We don't think that's why. In fact, we believe that libido has little to do with gender. In general, libido has more to do with an individual's overall health and well being."

"Oh?" My interest was piqued.

"Further, we know that sex addiction has less to do with sex or libido than it does with the sufferer's attempt to mask some deficiency" She continued.

"Often it is a response to some trauma. Like drug users and abusers, sex abusers utilize sexual activity to numb themselves, and to get a release. We had discussed how sex feels to you, have we not?"

"Yes, well…I like it. It's feels good…to be sexual"

I shifted on the couch.

"Talk more about that, Bella" the Doctor urged.

"It feels good physically, and it makes me feel powerful to be wanted. Sex gives me a feeling of, control. And I don't have to think of anything else when I'm with a man."

"Okay, Good." Dr. Randall nodded. "You see, if you simply had a high libido, there would be normal ways of managing your sexual desire; masturbation or fantasy, for example. And you would probably have been in a normal, monogamous relationship at some point over the last ten years."

I almost chocked on a breath when she said that part out loud. Phrasing it that way, she made me seem like such a weirdo.

"But you have been avoiding real relationships, and have instead been engaging in many non-committal relationships that are entirely based around sex. You even make certain that your encounters are with men you can keep at a distance, by keeping your encounters restricted to times you are staying in a foreign country."

I considered it all. What she was saying was largely true, not disputable. My lovers didn't even know where I lived, or how to reach me. But I had to question some part of this. I couldn't concede it all.

"Doctor, Is it so bad that I've not been in any serious relationships?"

"I see you phrasing this in a way that would make a lot of sense, if you had a typical sex life. I know women, Bella, who aren't focused on romance or marriage because of their careers. You have a challenging career, don't you?"

"I do, yes."

"Right. But most women who avoid marriage or cohabitation or family in furtherance of their education or careers…well, they don't have the kind of sex life that you have. You're very unique in that way."

"I guess I knew that."

The Doctor went on; probably not wanting me to dwell on the oddness of my particular situation. She had mentioned before that 'self loathing was worthless.'

"Bella, Have you ever wondered why it is that you seem so comfortable not ever being really intimate with someone? Why sex and love aren't connected for you?"

"They aren't connected."

Are they?

"Tell me about that Bella."

"Well, sex is a physical act. It feels good. I use it to feel good. I also love people, and I treat the people who I care about well."

Do I treat the people I love well? I flinched.

"Who do you love, Bella? Besides your family." It was almost as if the Doctor had read my mind.

I didn't want to answer her, so I paused for a long moment. I squirmed like a child on the dark grey sofa.

"I love Jacob…"

sigh.

"We're very good friends," I amended.

"Okay Bella. And how does what we've been talking about apply to your friendship?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we've talked about Jacob before, and I'm aware that you've had a longstanding sexual relationship with Jacob. I also know that you do care about him very much. How does that play out? How does it work?

Please stop asking these questions.

"How does he feel about your sexual relationship?"

That was the straw. Right there. And I started crying so hard, that I couldn't see my own lap as I hung my head.

Doctor Randall passed me a tissue. She kept quiet for a long time, and I knew that she would remain silent until I had something to say.

I thought about Jake. I thought about his perfect, dark eyes, and his deep brooding voice.

I thought about the conversation we had had last night; about his probable assumption that he had been my only partner, when in fact there had been dozens of men besides him. I thought about the way my stomach had misbehaved after I had allowed him to believe this lie.

It made me cry harder.

The Doctor handed me another tissue.

"Bella?"

"I can't right now."

"Okay, well, do you want to end the session?"

I knew there was still time on the clock, but I was just so upset. I nodded mournfully.

"Would you like to close with anything? Just to sum things up so that you aren't left without closure this week?"

There was a long pause, riddled with sniffles and small sobs.

I looked down at the ground for a moment, then up at Doctor Randall. The understanding in her eyes undid me, and I gasped dramatically.

"I am awful to Jacob!" I wailed like a child, and continued to cry buckets.

I felt ridiculous.

"I'm so sorry" I told the Doctor.

"No, Bella. You shouldn't feel sorry for crying. It's good to release your emotions this way."

"Okay." I sniffled for a few moments more before she spoke to me again, more softly than before. Her voice was now more motherly than matter-of-fact.

"Bella, we have not yet determined why this is going on, what the cause of this problem could be; but we have learned today that it's a problem, haven't we?"

I met her eyes again.

"Bella, sex is not bad. It's not evil. And being in a relationship isn't mandatory. But your sex life is meaningless. It has no value. Moreover, you are hurting people you care for, and you are hurting yourself."

How?

" You see now that you are hurting yourself, don't you?" She questioned.

I had not seen that. I had merely thought of Jake. I was angry with myself for the pain I had caused him, and for the pain I could cause him; but I could not think of any way I had suffered. I had been in receipt of all of Jacob's love and friendship, and had been enjoying myself quite a lot all the while.

"How am I hurting myself?" I asked her.

She smiled kindly.

"I'll let you think on that. That will be your assignment this week."

Sweet, an assignment.

"I'll give you a hint."

I nodded evenly. I was finally starting to feel less insane, and my tears were no longer blinding me to my surroundings.

"We had discussed why Female sex addicts so rare in the beginning of the session, and I told you that it had nothing to do with libido… We discovered that sex addicts use sex to escape some kind of pain, right?"

"Okay."

"Well, men frequently have a hole to fill, because they are often very out of touch with their emotions. They don't talk about things, and they don't stop to think about what they are thinking or feeling. When a problem arises that has no solution, they are angry that they can't make sense of things. Eventually, they find themselves in a bad place, and use sex as a release. They use it as drug to escape their own discomfort."

I nodded dramatically to let her know I was still following, and she continued.

"Women usually know where they're at emotionally. They talk about their problems, almost excessively. Women think about their emotions internally, too. When a problem arises that has no solution, women recognize that there doesn't need to be a solution. We just work through things in our heads, and then release our worries. Because they don't carry that unresolved emotional pain and anger, they are less likely to become addicts of any kind."

Jesus.

"Am I like a man?"

Now I was worried.

"No," Doctor Randall chuckled, "Not generally speaking. When women are sex addicts, it's usually because of a past trauma. The pain they are holding on to is something they can't work through alone; something serious. Many female sex addicts are victims of rape, or incest. Others have had abortions that they never forgave themselves for."

"God…" I trailed off.

"I think there is something you haven't worked out, Bella. You're lost right now."

"I'm lost?"

I had no idea.

" And you don't know what you're missing... and that my dear, is what you need to figure out. By not knowing what you are missing, you are going without something that everyone should have."

I didn't respond.

"And that is how you are hurting yourself, Ms. Swann."