The liberal media paint a glossy picture of pornography and masturbation. In my lifetime there were at least a few people who advocated the use of masturbation and porn, that it helps to relieve stress and sexual frustration.
My first experience with porn was a life changer. The first time I saw a naked picture of a woman, my eyes felt glued, my soul was transfixed and it felt like an electric current passed through me. I was hooked.
Since then, I have spent countless hours toiling towards exposing my self to porn. Almost all of my decisions were influenced by trying to steal an opportunity to watch.
In the process, I would look out for every opportunity to isolate myself from others, so that I can spend my personal time fantasizing, reading and watching pornography.
Maybe it was this that drew me to loneliness and Isolation. I did it because I wanted to be alone. I am not sure, but it was probably the start of my bipolar disease or episodes of depression. Because there is a price you have to pay after you watch porn and masturbate. It’s called guilt. Maybe It’s easy for others to just shirk aside such acts as normal, but that was not to be for me.
Guilt and loneliness transpired for years and years all through my teens. By the time I was in my twenties, I was actively depressed, but never knew the name for it.
Why do people some people feel guilt while others can walk about with out even feeling a tinge of it. My friend could anything he pleased, but not feel guilty about it. He was not intolerant or not an antisocial, but just not bothered about the norms that society imposed.
I tried to clean up my act, but I couldn’t. I would spend time going to church, listening eagerly to pastors and priests. It didn’t matter to me if they were orthodox or protestants, anything that would release my soul from this evil that was eating me from the inside out.
Religion did not work, so I covered my pain by medicating myself with what else I could get my hands on. Some times alcohol, sometimes pot, other times pills to put me to sleep.
Even with all of this going around me, I still managed to do well in studies and manage a profession. All of my decisions, the gadgets that I brought, the places that I chose to live were all influenced by porn. It was my mistress or master. It would rear its ugly head when things didn’t go it’s way.
The age of the internet had arrived and suddenly the flood gates of porn opened up. Everything was free. I would take a week of from porn and it would come back at me with vengeance. The guilt of that would drown me in sadness. This would be followed by drugs to drown the sadness. The cycle repeated relentlessly, forever…
It’s a miracle I am still alive and that I am writing this.