Penny Flame Snuffed Out And Leaves Porn, No sex for a year…

I‘ve always liked Penny Flame’s blogs. She is one of the best "porn star" writers I have ever come across. When I heard she was appearing on Dr Drew’s new Celebrity Rehab, for sexual addiction, I figured it was a publicity stunt. Looks like I was wrong. Penny is now Jennie and she is writing about her end in porn, and the beginning of  dealing with sex & alcohol addiction. Here are some excerpts from her blog-

For the past 8 years, existing as Penny Flame, I’ve found it incredibly easy to say whatever the fuck I want. Whatever way I want. At no point have I ever worried about repercussions, hurt feelings, or cruel words that may have wrecked a stranger’s day. No, I’ve lived blissfully behind the guise of a pornstar, “a woman so heartless” as Kanye so eloquently puts it, and never have I been at a lack for words because it seems as though it is simple to say what you want when hiding behind a bitch as strong as Penny Flame…

However I’ve run into a little problem is starting this blog. I feel as though I have no voice. As though I, Jennie, have absolutely  nothing to say that is meaningful, nothing funny or anecdotal, nothing of importance or significance. And there are a couple reasons behind this little problem, the first being me. The second being my impression of you. The third? Well, that can only be understood by examining the first two.

The first reason I’m having trouble finding my voice is because I’ve never actually used it. This is an entirely new arena for me, this speaking out as Jennie Ketcham and not Penny Flame. And due to the fact that I’ve only recently remembered that I am Jennie Ketcham, I’m not quite sure how to speak, or think, or act, or feel. The last being the most important. I don’t know how to feel.

Lets say that again.

I don’t know how to feel.

There is no emotion that was powerful enough to overwhelm Penny Flame. From the break-ups with the fuck toys (because lord knows Penny doesn’t date), to the idiotic pictures posted all over the internet of her being shitfaced drunk, to the fact that her mother is a raging alcoholic (albeit so am I, but that is never something Penny could admit), no single event could ever break down Penny Flame. It seems as though now, these are all incredibly significant events, and they break me, as Jennie down. They break down Jennifer Ketcham, the name I was born into, the one on my birth certificate. And I apologize for speaking about Penny as though she is a different girl than me, but fundamentally, she is. I don’t want to keep separating my actions from hers, but at this point I feel I must in order to separate myself from the little monster created. Because she is a monster, one that has gone tearing through this town crushing everything in her path. ..

About five days ago, my therapist Jill told me I shouldn’t have sex for a year . Only three hundred sixty more days to go. Please allow me to digress. Jill didn’t outright say “Jennifer, you can’t have sex for three hundred sixty-five days.” It was in the context of a story, which allows me to come to my own decisions. She is a very smart therapist, very sneaky, but very smart.

In dealing with my sex addiction, I realized what a serious alcohol problem I have. The only thing that made me realize this was my lack of alcohol, and the fact that every time something upsetting would come up, every time some emotion that made me uncomfortable began to stir in my freshly cleaned brain, the first thing that came to mind was a jack and coke.

Feeling: “I’m sad because I feel lonely, and tired.”

First reaction: “I want a fucking jack and coke.”

This is not a healthy reaction to uncomfortable emotions, and as I find most emotions uncomfortable, this is not a good reaction at all. And I’ve been making a conscious effort to NOT use the words “good” and “bad” because I’m finding that life cannot be defined in black and white terms. There are so many shades between black and white, so many descriptive words between good and bad, I really need to stay away from defining actions and their consequences as such. But this reaction, well, it is just bad.

So part of my recovery in respect to sex addiction, which I’m not quite in yet, I’ve just completed step one, so I’m technically rehabilitating as I write (part of my rehabilitation), but a large part of what is going to keep me out of being an addict is staying sober, sober from booze and drugs in addition to sexually addictive behavior. And so I’ve decided to start attending AA meetings on a regular basis, in attempt to keep from drinking. The whole philosophy being “one day at a time.” I will not drink today. I will not drink right now. Seems easy enough right?

Well, the next part of the program is to not get in a relationship for the first year of sobriety. Also sounds fairly easy, especially considering I’m not the best at being in relationships, have a tendency to run as soon as it gets serious, and god forbid anybody buy me a gift because I for some reason do not think I am deserving of gifts and that also makes me uncomfortable. The receiving gifts part makes me uncomfortable, it has for a long time now, and any boy you speak with who has had the displeasure of being my significant (or insignificant) other will tell you I cannot accept gifts. It makes me feel strange. Like I am not worth the gift being given. Like I am not valuable enough to be showered with presents and kindness. So I return to sender. I’ve done it with gifts my father sends me for the past 13 years. I’m trying to stop feeling this way. I’m trying to stop returning to sender and running. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I am ready to be in a relationship. No, that doesn’t seem likely anytime soon, and definitely not within the next year. Jill says this year of sobriety and solo bed sleeping is standard. I will play the game.

But then it hits me. That means no sex for one year. NO SEX FOR ONE YEAR????? Can that even be possible? I mean, an entire fucking year? That’s three hundred sixty-five days. Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. That is a long time for no dick. A long fucking time for no fucking fucking.

And when I ask Jill, when I say “Wait a second here, does that mean I can’t have sex for a year?” she replies….

Jill: “Well, what would you say is the biggest problem in your sex addiction?”

Me: “Well, the fact that I don’t care about anybody I fuck. And that I can’t have sex with anybody I care about.”

Jill: “Well….then….”

Me: “Holy fucking shit, that is exactly what you are saying. No sex for a fucking year.”

You can read more here- http://becomingjennie.wordpress.com/