"Oh, it was awful. I was so embarrassed, but I didn't stop."
"What makes you want to get help now?" I ask.
"A lot," Jake says. "I feel like such a pervert. You just don't know what it is like to live your life trying to get a peek. It feels so desperate, so all-consuming."
"I can imagine," I say.
"I don't know how to be in a relationship. I spend all my free time either voyeuring outside or on the Net. It has ruined my life, and now I face these charges. I should have my whole life ahead of me... " Jake says, his voice trailing off.
"Do you understand why you act out in this way?"
"Oh yeah," Jake says with the confidence and enthusiasm of a schoolkid.
"I understood when I drilled the first hole in the bathroom wall. I felt the rush, the high, the power. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stop then. Can't stop now. That's been my whole life."
As a child, Jake adapted to the original wounding by creating a fantasy world in which he would escape stress and shame. Whether it is peeking under dresses in a car lot or cruising the Internet for pornography, Jake's behavior is all bout his original trauma. The voyeur has adapted to avoid the emotions associated with the original wounding act.