Though it truly is my 90th day on hard mode, and I am proud, and thankful, it has in fact been over a year and a half since I stopped giving myself orgasms with my hand or sheets etc. Now you may ask yourself, did I succeed through the year and half then want to step up to hard mode? Was I giving myself orgasms with some sickly contraption not involving my hands or sheets? Both options would be wrong.
The truth is that about two years ago I had just given up the second to last of my unhealthy addictions, Pot. I used to smoke cigarettes, pot, drink irresponsibly, and masturbate to everything imaginable, and one by one I took myself off every one until all that remained was masturbation. I knew deep down that if I could just get over that final hurdle, my life would be free, and the raindrops soaking through my tattered clothes would feel fresh and cool, instead of soggy and miserable. So little by little, and with half attached help from the NoFap community, I found myself a month and a half without masturbating.
I felt powerful, confident, a great weight had been lifted and the world was obtainable again. There were opportunities.
The first thing i promised myself was I would change my browsing from online porn to online dating. I thought this would offer chances to keep me stimulated socially rather than instant gratification sexually, and it was. I was rejected, and I learned not to let it bother me, and I even found a woman who was interested.
She was older, and i had to lie about my age in order to meet her, but what did I care? I was a healthy alpha male, fresh out of addictions and ready for physical touch.
The first night we made love I don’t even think I knew if I was attracted to her or not.
We started dating and having sex in excess. After the first two sessions together My mind began to drift to the thoughts of other women, and I let it.
What followed was a year’s relationship where I could only orgasm inside her, if i was thinking of other women.
Images in my head began to replay old pornos, and middle school teachers, and I just kept on fapping inside her, in shameful ecstasy.
I knew I was in the wrong, but addiction had me once again. I made excuses, “It relieves stress,” “You’re not really masturbating.”
I was, I was.
The only time I thought of her while we were having sex was after we broke up for a week. She had a stress fracture in her femur and, and no one to help her put some boxes back into her attic. I helped her out, and found the idea of sex with her so titillating I gave in.
We were together again, and within two sessions my mind was already replaying the pornos, and thoughts of other women.
We were so wrong for each other. I had started eating a lot of heavy food, and exercising myself to death to work it off, I think i was trying to get a high off it. I didn’t eat stuff like junk food, but a lot of homemade deserts, and pizzas, and going out to eat. It was all we had in common, food, exercise (Until she got the stress fracture, thus deepening the divide of things in common) and sex. (She wasn’t ugly btw, she was actually in great shape, and everyone I knew thought she was quite attractive, she simply was not my type)
So here I was addicted to fapping again, only inside a woman, and exercising myself over exhaustion, just so I could pile food on my plate to make me happy. I had replaced smoking, booze, and jerking it with food, body highs, and, well…. jerking it.
I remember breaking down one afternoon when she came over to watch a film project I had directed and acted in. She kept making comments and I kept taking them as offense. “Boy your skin looks good there.” “Because it looks like shit in real life?” (That being my anxiety for the breakouts I was experiencing from the over eating.
I finally told her the truth, not what I’m telling you guys right now, I told her that I had cheated on her half a year ago. She was pissed, made me pay for all the sexual disease tests she would get in the next week, and leave my stash of condoms and stuff I kept at her house on the curb.
I went stress jogging on what was supposed to be a rest day without stretching (Stretching being something I had been withholding to allow more time for lifting/cardio, in order to help combat my depression) and ended up with some painful tendonitis in my knees. This was 90 days ago today.
I knew I was being punished spiritually, and if I was going to pursue another attempt at ridding myself of masturbation, be it with your hand or a vagina, I was going to have to do it without favoring another addiction.
Remember that it is stark to feel your angst drown out during an hour of exercise. But you should exercise for long term health, not for the high, because addiction takes all forms. It comes to us in the shapes of our loved ones, and friends. It starts with answers and leaves you, chasing. You can’t run forever.
Thank you NoFap for your support. We must continue to grow. There needs to be more buzz, more content, and above all more fapstronauts. It won’t happen today, but if we keep at it, one day we will be recognized, and just like our parents who giggled over a playboy eventually gave it up to pursue dreams, chase girls, and live, so will our children get away from the computer, to pursue their dreams.
To dreams, and their ability to guide our reality.
I am 25, I have seen a higher level of dedication to reality rather than the highly sensitive depths of my inner life, and I was a fapper from age 11 to 23 and change.
LINK – Today marks 90 days complete, thanks are in order, as well as a few warnings.
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