Yes, this is a long post, but you know what, I feel like I earned it.
I’ve been waiting to do this for 90 days – no, much, much longer. I haven’t gone 90 days in… honestly… I don’t know if I’ve ever gone 90 days, since the day when I first discovered fapping as a kid. If that sounds sad, it’s because it is. Terribly, horribly sad. I didn’t go 90 days when I was baptized at age 13, or when I spent all summer working as a camp counselor at a Christian summer camp, or when my grandpa died, or, just ever.
I’ve done a lot of bad things, but nothing has haunted me or made me feel worse about myself than fapping did. I used to hate myself. I had no hope of ever stopping, and that hopelessness bled into other areas of my life; physical health, relationships with people and with God, even just ever being happy.
So how did I ever overcome the one thing I never thought I’d solve? Let me tell you:
- I realized that I hate PMO. Really, deeply hated it.
- I accepted that I could like myself, if I could live with integrity.
- Most importantly, I lost my faith in God.
I don’t want to discourage any religious readers here, but this is my true experience, and I’m proud of it. Losing my faith in God was painful and terrible and it was an incredibly depressing, but on the other side of that transformation, I no longer see my addiction as the influence of demons or the natural expression of my wicked sinful heart, but as a very human, very natural (albeit misplaced) desire for sexual intimacy. It was a bad habit, reinforced by neurochemicals, but nothing mysterious or ethereal. I lost faith in God and gained faith in myself. I didn’t pray for power over sin; I realized that I already had the power to control my actions. And so I did. I realized that the life I wanted to lead was incompatible with PMO, so I simply made that decision. “Simply” doesn’t mean easy, of course. Lust can dig into your chest and crush you in waves. But not resorting to PMO is not complicated; just don’t do it. So that’s what I did.
I failed plenty of times, even after my “deconversion,” until, finally, I didn’t. It’s easy for a few days, but terribly hard after a few weeks. For a while, my chest ached, I felt like throwing up, and I couldn’t sleep. Triggers are unfathomably potent, and I had to take great care to avoid them. But once I got over that hump, it got easier again. I don’t have those feelings anymore. I can see things on the computer or feel certain ways that would normally trigger me into a night of PMO, but now I can just move on. It’s just wonderful.
Success in this area has given me the confidence to tackle other challenges. Since I’ve started this 90 day streak, I’ve lost over 20 pounds, I’ve started swing dancing, I joined a band, and I’m seeing a girl (don’t call her a girlfriend, don’t jinx it). I’m not talking about superpowers here, I’m saying that all this potential was already inside of me, trapped behind my addiction. No, girls don’t wash over me like the breath of Zeus, but no longer do I talk to girls with the nagging shame of knowing that I jacked off to a porn star the night before, and in that sense, sure, I have more confidence.
I love myself. I look in the mirror, and I don’t feel regret. I think this is how normal people feel. I hate the amount of time I’ve wasted feeling guilty and ashamed, but I get to look forward now with a clear conscience. I love my life.
And thank you all for indulging me in my 90 day victory rant!
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