Vice
2026-01-21
I'm looking for some new books to read or listen to. If you have a suggestion, send me an email and I'll be happy to consider it.
CW: SEXUAL CONTENT
I talked about it in my New Year's entry and feel that it's necessary for me to bring it up again. One of the toughest addictions I've had to fight is with pornography and masturbation. Many have covered its detrimental effects already, so I'd rather discuss my personal recovery and not make any broad cultural claims.
My origins with the addiction are typical: I was a kid with unrestricted internet access, and discovered pornography early. Even before I used computers, I understood what masturbation was. The first time was when I was five years old. I didn't yet understand lust or sexual desire; masturbation relieved stress. I'd orgasm and feel release, opening the pressure valve.
Pornography only amplified this. I'm thankful that I haven't developed fetishes, but I still objectify others. As a kid, I didn't have an understanding of women. It felt strange and foreign to be their peer. Even now as I'm pushing thirty, it still feels this way. I've done alright making female friends. I've had girlfriends. Hell, I even have a good relationship with my mom. Despite that, I still can't fully understand women.
Pornography put a weird taste in my mouth I can't spit out.
When I first started watching pornography around ten, it was my first experience with women in that way. I only saw them as performers and objects whose sole purpose was to gratify me sexually. I didn't see women as dynamic—they didn't feel as human to me. As I matured, there was a change of mind. Once I started having girlfriends, I realized just how corrupted I was.
The worst part was that pornography got to me first.
As I try to get my life back, I feel a deep sense of injustice. People profited from my addiction, and that makes me sad and scared. Many of my male friends experience a similar battle. Some even consider pornography harmless. I've struggle romantically. I am a fairly attractive and interesting person, and women have shown interest—but I feel like a fraud because of my addiction to pornography. It's tough to not see women as sexual objects when in public. I'll be at the gym, store, or restaurant and I'll see a female stranger. I begin to undress them in my mind and can catch myself glaring—sometimes even staring. It makes me feel gross that I do this and have a hard time controlling it.
I've been frustrated for years. I've tried quitting pornography many times, but always find myself coming back. When I quit nicotine, I found out that I wasn't actually quitting nicotine, but getting my life back. I've tried applying this philosophy to quitting pornography, but find myself telling more elaborate lies. The withdrawals are much stronger than nicotine. Relapsing is way easier too—the phone's right there, my penis is right there; you see what I mean.
I've heard of the Easy Peasy Method to quitting pornography and started, but never finished. It's not even that long, but what can I say? I'm a hyper-speed Zoomer. I stumbled on the Flying Eagle Method, an abbreviated version of Easy Peasy. I was able to finish in less than an hour and felt emboldened to quit for good. The click came from this statement:
There are no advantages to the vice.
It's deceptively simple. Despite that knowledge, keeping it in the forefront of my mind is challenging. I have had way too many vices: porn, cigarettes, nitrous oxide, marijuana, opiates, caffeine, and fast food. There's probably other ones too, but those are the main offenders. Quitting all of them involves utilizing that same principle. There is no advantage to any of them. They hurt me. They hurt others. I can't keep hurting other people.
It's just not right.