At such a young age, you’d probably be expecting a kid to be more interested in video games, comic books, girls (not really, not in my case anyway), eating and my personal favorite, eating. (I thoroughly enjoyed eating). You wouldn’t be far off as to make such assumptions, however, at some point I found myself taking up another activity that would eventually be my undoing. As much as I would wish this wasn’t the case, it was.
At a certain age, the internet becomes a dangerous place. For me, the reality would hit like a truck full of bricks falling from 10,000 feet in the air landing smack dab on my face. And that’s just barely scratching the surface.
Who’d have thought that such a life would come from a simple web search and spiral for so many years to come, drafting me into a war I didn’t even know I was fighting. A 14 year old boy’s curiosity to spark the flame that would rage for however long he decided to keep feeding the fire. I didn’t know what this was; I just knew that I liked what I saw and I wanted more. My first experience was with a site that posted explicit content, games, art and the whatnots. Naturally appealing to my flesh, I was consumed by the provocativeness that stared back at me. Every video, games and picture (drawing or photograph), what have you, had me. That battle had only just begun and my heart nor mind weren’t prepared to be for the suffering they’d endure while in captivity. Almost all possible opportunities were spent catering to my eyes with the very images that are engraved into my psyche; just to get through the night. This is what an addiction felt like and I loved every second of it. Each image, whether still or moving, danced around in my mind, cluttering it like the underside of a teenager’s bed full of playboy magazines. I wanted more. More than just the eye candy or the pleasure it brought to my thoughts and dreams. I wanted to know what it felt like.
It goes without saying that I dug a pretty deep hole at this point. Seeking any opening I could to explore the dark recesses of the internet while my mind was fed every conceivable idea of what to search, where to search and how to go about searching without getting caught. Unfortunately, all the searching amounted to nothing; I wanted, craved more. I desired to feel what these people on my computer screen felt. Thus, leading me to take matters into my own hands... literally. Enter Masturbation.
If you thought the worse had come while caught up in the sick side of the entertainment industry that was pornography, I only stand to prove how wrong you are. Ever since I had gotten my own phone, all I wanted to do was look at and experience everything my perverted thoughts could conjure. THERE WERE NO LIMITS TO WHAT I COULD DO! Woefully, with such desired pleasures, came the necessary actions that had to be taken in order to keep them hidden. Lest I wanted to be made, I had to be in secret. Then came the fateful day where my curiosity would open a door to years worth of torment, death, regret, doubt, low self esteem, and depression. Confusing, but enjoyable all at once, every minute of that first moment and on, no other problems in my life could ever compare to what I now faced.
The reality of my current situation didn’t really hit me until I turned 18. Yet, even with the knowledge of my apparent and sinful lifestyle, I couldn’t let go. Or rather, I didn’t want to let go. It’s one thing to be unknowingly hypnotized into a way of doing things, oblivious to the fact that I’m sinning. It’s a TOTALLY different thing when I know and understand that I’m sinning against God and myself, but choose to continue on that path anyway. And for years, I chose pornography over purpose. Pride over promise. Pain over peace.
Dealing with this for as long as I have SUCKS. It’s done nothing but cause anger to rise up in me, wastes a lot of my time and poisons my mind, planting a false conception of women and making me look at them differently. I’ve gotten myself involved with individuals that I no business interacting with, placed myself in positions that I had no business being in, indulged in activities that I had no business participating in. And if that isn’t the height and depth of all of the shame and guilt, just imagine what knowing of the spiritual ramifications did to me. The Spirit CONSTANTLY convicting me, calling me out and telling me I’m wrong for what I’ve done and still doing. STILL, I grieve Him. If there was anything worse than the face of the guilty man in the mirror that looked at me, it was and IS the reality of the many disappointments and grievances I put Him through just doing what was displeasing to Him....in His face. I felt I was too far gone for Him to even try to save me from the very enslavement I chose.
As much as I’ve grown in mentality and spirituality, the fight still hurts. However, I’ve learned that kicking myself while I’m down hurts just as bad. What’s worse than the devil attempting to convince me that I am not worthy of anything, that I am unloved by the most high, and a waste, is the fact that I often believe it. It sucks, though no more than being stuck in the same place God never wanted me to be in the first place. Growing up meant that I had to understand what I was doing was unhealthy and detrimental to me, (physically, mentally, socially and spiritually), and I was killing myself trying to satisfy something only God had rights to. That I didn’t have to suffer in my own thoughts of depression and self-hatred. Growing up helped me understand that in spite of ALL ELSE, God still loves me, He just hates my sin. Also, I can live free from this.
Is it hard? Is it still a fight? Does it still trip me up at times? Can I relate to those of you who are just like me? Yes, yes, yes and a resounding YES. If there’s one thing that I’ve had to learn throughout years of this struggle, it’s that having people around to share your burdens with and hold you accountable is just as relieving as trying to do it by yourself. Like doing squats with a spotter: having someone who can help you carry your weight with you. My point? You aren’t alone in this fight. Just as I thought I was to shoulder this pain, I didn’t have to. Regrettably, my pride got in the way of allowing me to ask for the help I so desperately needed; causing fear to rise up in me, while under the assumption I’d be ridiculed or shunned for my actions. Little did I know, that I knew very little of the compassion and love these people had for me to aid in my battles. They reassured that I didn’t have to do this by myself, and as much as I would put effort to, I’d always fail. I’m glad I wasn’t alone. And neither are you.
We CAN and WILL beat this together. We CAN and WILL walk VICTORIOUSLY.
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