i think it is a good idea you have chosen to take a step forward and curb your addiction. generally, too much of anything is going to be a bad idea. maybe this passage from Far Journeys
can help you avoid over-emphasizing sex in your life as well as it did for me.
I found I was standing a few feet away from an enormous pile of writhing
forms. It reached up, slanting back as high as I could see. In each direction,
right and left, it swept off into the distance. It reminded me of
nothing so much as the interweaving of huge fishing worms in the bottom
of a can after being left there overnight. The motion was continuous,
thousands upon thousands, each wet slippery form wiggling in and out
among the others in the pile, searching, trying to do something . . . but
never achieving satisfaction.
Three perceptive shocks hit me simultaneously. The forms were not
worms, they were human! Second, the incredible, staggering radiation of
sexuality, both male and female, that emanated from the seething mass.
Third, they all were physically dead. I wanted to turn and run, but some
other part of me held me in place. I finally calmed down enough to
become analytical. Did I want to join in? My whole being shuddered in
rejection. No vestige remained of the sexual drive I found so important
moments before. I had the strong percept that it would come again, but
never where it would control wholly what I thought or did.
With this flash of knowing, another emotion washed through me—
intense compassion for those trapped in the undulating mass, so focused
and intent on seeking sexual satisfaction they were unaware of any other
existence—anger at a system that could so inhibit, repress, and distort as
to create the situation in front of me. Were these the castoffs of the
human process, to remain so throughout eternity?
I moved forward slowly and stopped close to the edge of the pile. The
moving bodies were male and female, of all shapes and sizes, glistening
with wetness. A bare hairy leg thrust momentarily from the pile, and I
grabbed it by the foot and pulled. . . . The leg pushed out blindly, trying
to move more deeply back into the pulsating mass. I pulled harder, trying
to keep my grip on the sweat-covered ankle. Slowly, I was able to pull the
rest of the body clear of the pile. It was a man, small in stature, darkhaired,
fine-featured, of indeterminate age. He lay there on his belly, his
arms and legs moving crablike, attempting to pull himself back into the
pile, totally oblivious to the fact that I was holding on to his foot and
preventing him from doing so.
I easily held him in place, bent over, and shouted in his ear, (Hey, I want
to talk to you. Hold still for a moment!)
There was not the slightest indication that he heard me. His face was
fixed, a gleam of anticipation spread across it. He kept trying to move back
and I held him in place, wondering what to do next.
I tried another approach. (It's the cops, the police, they're raiding the
joint! Gotta get out!)
I waited for some response, but there was none. I couldn't provide him
with the radiation that would get his attention. I released his foot, and he
crawled back into the mass and was swallowed up in the movement. I
turned away sadly and stretched for my physical ident, and returned without
From that point on, I had a new technique to control any surfacing
sexual drive. All I need do is think of that wriggling, writhing, mindless
pile of humanity. That does it.