I can't do this journal in one setting, so I will try to do it in several. I am tempted to hide some of the truths, but that wouldn't be helpful. So will also attempt to be honest.
My struggle with porn began when i was about 15 and I was watching a neighbor friends kids. After the kids went to bed, I was looking through my neighbors bookshelf for something to read, and there it was. A P magazine. It was the first time I had ever seen anything like it. And something in my broken and lonely heart got hooked. That was 25 years ago and I can still picture the original pictures that pulled me in.
I subsequently found my neighbor friends complete porn stash and that stash was the original hook. Porn became like water to me. I was a lonely and sensitive and spiritual kid with a dysfunctional set of parents and an over active conscience. This combination, I later learned, was an open door to the false intimacy of porn.
Porn allowed me an escape to a place where I was accepted, loved, desired and understood. That was the lie. Only later did I understand that what it promised it could never deliver. Instead of intimacy, it brought me pain, shame, and humiliation. Porn is like a spider that sucks away at our heart while you just pet it, thinking it's meeting some need.
Because I was still at home in my parents house, and before the Internet, I had to work to get porn. Sometimes I just bought it at the local gas station (there was no way I looked old enough) or I settled for blurry images on the cable box. Whatever the means, the pattern was the same- hear the siren's call, lie and scheme to find it, indulge, feel safe and loved, then feel shame and self hatred, get rid of it and then be able to sleep.
I once added up how much time I have blown on porn...I don't remember the exact amount, but I can say that there were thousands, ten thousands of hours. Wasted hours fleeing to this fantasy place. Practicing a kind of short term amnesia, forgetting how bad it made me feel before, and ignoring God's call and my conscience's call to seek love in him and in those around me, and yet still returning to that same place...porn.
Years of this. Back then, I was young enough to believe that swearing I would never do it again would work. Not understanding that the "vow" was part of the addiction. That "promise,slip,shame,promise" was a pseudo transformation, not real transformation, and part of the cycle.
I got so tired of swearing, vowing, disappointing myself and my God. In my setting, it meant altar calls, and prayers, and vows. Little did I know that what I was seeking, was not o be found in the sham, self loathing, vowing to God path. No. That was false. I had to learn true intimacy.
Then came the Internet... And the soft siren call whispering availability turned into a roar... A literal stadium full of temptations, all calling out to me to come join them... With me standing on the field, ready to indulge in their call anytime they cried out.
And that's where this stuggle went global... from an occasional slip to almost daily, definitely weekly, battle.
































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