I’m married, with two small children, and, basically, I have it all — but I am, to put it bluntly, a serial liar, a cheat and not a nice person. I love my wife and kids like nothing else, yet fear I’m on a path to self-destruction. I’ve had a series of affairs, but I don’t want to be this way. I know there’s help available for sex addicts, although it seems to be the emotional connection I crave.

A few years ago, I had counselling for depression and was told I needed a father figure. My late father had an affair and left home when I was a teenager. He provided holidays and money, but had trouble showing he was proud of me. Whenever I watch a trashy movie about a dad who works too hard, then realises what he has and changes for his kids, it actually makes me cry. I’m desperate to be a good dad and not turn into my father and run away. I don’t blame anyone but myself and know what I do is morally wrong, but it’s as if I’m addicted to seeking the highs I get from being with other women.

You can either describe it as an addiction or compulsive behaviour, but, to my mind, there’s not much difference. The compulsion to keep on indulging in toxic, self-sabotaging behaviour is like an addiction and there is help available for sex addicts. There is also help for love addicts, which is what I feel you’re describing here. The two are often so interlinked that the Twelve Step fellowship that deals with this sort of process addiction (as distinct from a substance addiction such as alcohol or drugs) is known as Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous (SLAA).

People can jump from one sexual partner to another without understanding it’s not sexual intimacy they are seeking, but emotional intimacy or attachment. As you say, it’s the emotional connection you crave. A process addiction simply means using a process such as shopping or gambling (or another person) as a diversion from emotional pain. Any process that changes the chemical structure of the brain — whether it’s an adrenaline rush from gambling or an endorphin high from falling in love (endorphins attach to the same cell receptors as morphine) — is capable of creating a dependency.

Aunt Sally: I am 30 and in a relationship that fills me with pain, anxiety and restlessness

The more the avoidant shuts down, the needier the addict becomes

BACKGROUND

• Aunt Sally: I haven’t had sex with my husband for months

• Aunt Sally: He talks a lot about his ex

• Why can’t I stop being horrible to men who like me?

I’m sorry you’re in such emotional pain that you’re in danger of threatening the marriage and children you love. The question is, why? One school of thought says that we mimic the behaviour we learnt from our parents. If that behaviour was learnt during a time of extreme stress (such as your father abandoning you when you were a teenager), it stays imprinted in our hard-wiring, which is why, even though we can swear blind we’ll never behave in the same way, we still do it. There’s a debate whether alcoholism is a genetic condition or learnt behaviour, or, most probably, a combination of the two. You don’t, however, have to get trapped in that self-fulfilling prophecy. Keep repeating the words, like a mantra, “I am not my father.”

That’s the first step. The next, and most important, is to understand the nature of the emotional hole your father created when he left, and which you’re trying to fill with other people. I’m not sure you’re looking for a father figure. I think you’re trying to heal a wound. Crying over movies where the Hollywood dad comes good for his kids may mean you’re stuck in the adolescent phase we inhabit before we separate emotionally from our parents. Sadly, you never had the chance to go through the process of separation, so you’re still emotionally attached. Nor did you get the chance to resolve your feelings with your father before he died, so perhaps what you’re trying to do is re-create the feelings of love and safety before he left.

It’s an instinct, based on a few words in a letter, but I feel you might approach the problem in two ways. The first is to find a therapist who knows about attachment disorder (many experts believe this is at the heart of love addiction). The second, which you could do at the same time, is to attend SLAA meetings, as it seems to me you’ll need a great deal of emotional support as you try to untangle all this. Nobody there will think you’re not a nice person. They’ll simply think you’re trying to find relief from deep emotional pain and will help you by suggesting more constructive and healthier ways of dealing with it. Your story will not shock. They have stories of their own.

Do try, though, to stop beating yourself up with negative beliefs. They simply won’t help. They may even reinforce destructive behaviour. If, unconsciously, we believe we’re worth nothing, we believe we deserve nothing. Yes, on paper we can say that you’re a serial liar and a cheat, but as you say in your longer letter, you might appear cold on the outside but on the inside you’re an emotional mess. Do try and sort out that mess. It will be hard work but the rewards are well worth it.

Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous; slaauk.com

Is It Love or Is It Addiction? by Brenda Schaeffer (£13.99 Hazelden)

If you have a relationship question for Sally, e-mail sally.brampton@ sunday-times.co.uk. In case of publication, names will be withheld. We’re sorry, but Sally cannot answer letters personally

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