Age 29 – ED improving, not well yet

This is long post is probably one for the lurkers out there: Fapping went from the background to the foreground for me. It never disrupted my life impartially in the most obvious ways, nor did it have a grip on my daily routines, but I’ve recently realized it’s having a toll on the one I love. And I had to say goodbye to it a few months ago.

I don’t usually post online, but after starting nofap sometime ago and having repeatedly revisiting this community since, I felt compelled to share my story too. I’ve read so many stories from online strangers pouring out their deepest insecurities, and sharing the most private parts of their lives – it really struck a chord with my situation, and I feel hopeful to know that I’m not alone. Moreover, the resounding support from the community, the compassion and encouragement I see all round, is the type of love that heals, and at least for me, the type of love that would have been helpful in my dark days. So Thank You all for everything.

I’m 29 now; and i started fapping when I was probably 14. That’s 15 years – half of my life. I’m not here to opine whether its appropriate for teenagers to fap – but that’s something I did. For me it started out as simple lingerie pictures at first, then clips off the dial-up modem and then the file sharing programs, then the torrenting and now we have the high quality streaming sites. There’s even this nostalgia that overcomes me as I type: just thinking about the things that I’ve watched and how they marked a period in my life, like how a certain song would remind you of certain days. I’m not really ashamed of it, it was just a part of my life. I was relatively “normal” (if that’s even a thing): I didn’t have a girlfriend, but I was outgoing enough, I played a normal amount of videos games, and eventually got into a pretty good school.

School was fun, school was hard. At that time, I had a few significant relationships. One was a particular case of unrequited love, although me and the girl had sex, for various reasons, we were never going to be together as a couple. School and summer jobs were a grind, and being rejected emotionally as a young man – I was really hurt and angry how unfair the world seemed. But all this time in the background, I was fapping at what I believed to be a normal frequency (but I picked up the pace, maybe daily or every other day), but I think I was beginning attach fapping to a de-stressing activity, to bury my emotional frustrations into a screen that could satisfy fantasies at a click. It felt good, but it was really good because it was private and it was something that I knew no one could take away. If the world ended tomorow and took everything else away, at least I would have my dick in my hands. That’s how I felt, it was our fall back, it was the one constant, and I thought it would never fail me.

Fast forward a few more years, I got over the girl and had a few more girlfriends, I made it through it university, and like to think I made it through wiser. I graduated, fapping didn’t stop: it wasn’t a big deal, all the guys joked about it, and we all knew we all did it, and I don’t think social attitudes have changed much since. It’s not a problem until it’s one. I had my favourite few videos and names, I didn’t follow it religiously, but I knew what I liked. It was fun knowing that I could fap to something one day and something completely different the other. Different food, different music, different porn right?

I changed several jobs, upgraded my accommodations a few times, met a few more girls on the way. I can afford bigger bar tabs than I did when I was in school. I took trips and explored different places. I was enjoying life better than university. I was over the past, and I was hopeful for the future. I fapped at night. I had a respectable collection on an old hard drive at this point, but streaming sites would make it obsolete. I was a compulsive tab switcher, I would pick out the bunch I liked, open them all in new tabs, and then go through one by one to decide what tickled my fancy. The choosing process itself was insanely long compared to the fap (no surprise). But even during the fap I would switch between videos looking for the new high because the old one got boring. At that time I didn’t realize how damaging it was. Because no one talks about it, we all have our quicks and routines.

About year or so ago. I had a good challenging job, and was in good physical shape, and I finally met my current girlfriend.

For reasons unrelated to fapping, prior to my current girlfriend, I never did have many girlfriends longer than several months, and so it made sense that attraction to a girl would fade after the early days. On the days I didn’t see her, I was still fapping, and there were several nights I would try to fap multiple times, seemingly for the sake of it. I started getting interested in categories I didn’t care for in my real sex life, it felt fresh and exciting. It felt weird how I would have this strange sexual appetite when I was alone, contrasting to the serviceable amount of interest when I was with her, I thought it was just on a bender, I didn’t think much of it.

The problem came when I suddenly became flaccid several months ago during sex. She was crying because she felt that she wasn’t attractive for me anymore, instinctually I blamed it on feeling unwell, as she seemed to be okay. But having being made aware of nofap probably a year prior, I knew deep down there was a bigger problem. I was scared out of my mind that this would mark the downfall of our relationship.

For myself, there was never much of an internal debate. I love her so much, if there was anything I could do to fix it, there was no question i’d go for it. I just went cold turkey, i deleted all my porn, and it was a quick, unceremonious but an emotional event, thinking about how far it’s been with me. I later told her that I was doing nofap because I was curious and we didn’t speak much of it since. But she’s been supportive as I explained to her that it could affect my libido.

Fortunately, abstaining from fapping has been okay for me. I don’t have an addictive personality but the damage has been done. I know it hasn’t been equally easier for others: and I want to take this chance to salute you all on your individual struggles, as it’s a deeply personal one and everybody has their story, but I do hope you will prevail and will come out stronger.

So how’s has nofap 100 days been for me? * No superhuman powers, I’ve always been pretty disciplined when it comes to exercise * Making a more conscious effort to more productive at work * For the first few weeks and still somewhat true today: I don’t really feel excited about sex, or anything sexual, it’s become somewhat of a chore * Sexual performance: i would say 50% of the times are okay, probably 5-10% of nights are great; and like rest of it can be pretty shitty and variable: 3 nights ago we had great sex, 2 days ago I went flaccid after sometime, yesterday i was fine; this morning the stress to perform got to me I lasted longer, but eventually I went flaccid again

I’m a little disheartened, and maybe realizing that this could affect me for a long time to come. I never really came to terms that I have ED until now, and I still don’t know the extent of it. The urgency and depression comes a little bit because I feel like I’m hurting my relationship, and at the same time I know there’s a stress of performance element, in maintaining a normal emotional and sexual relationship with my girlfriend. But I understand there’s not a whole lot to do, except march on with nofap and be optimistic that my brain will fix itself with time. I’ll be going on a bit of a road trip with a few college buddies in a few weeks, I hope I can use that time to clear my mind a bit.

I know I’m only 100 days in, but to all the folks out there who are embarking on their own path: you’re not in this this journey alone. For better or worse, fapping may have helped us get through darker days, but it’s time to say goodbye. And as so many people noted before me: don’t see it as loss, we’re rebuilding back a part of us that we willfully numbed, buried and forgot about.