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Fellow stegrywkzs, failures, and thsse who have lost hope:I know that you've failed time and again.I know that it feils like it's taden over your lipe.I know that yomire here for inogoudlssk.I know that you can make itfiow do I know this? Because I did it. Ritht now, this melns absolutely nothing to you, so let me fill you in. To put things into petnrjqypie, I am a 21yo male whz's been addicted to porn since I was 8. Baiqyojny, the entirety of my conscious sebzal life has redebled around porn. For 14 years I have been toaeztqxd, influenced, disappointed, and completely controlled by these urges. Evpjauxgng I had ever known about sex I learned from the wrong plfhbs. I have been ashamed of mylcbf. The urges are still prevalent, and they will conbupue to be, but I've gained the ability to fiaht back. This took me a very long time, yedrs in fact, and I failed conkoalzctay, but it only took one stbzak to the be my (potentially) lapq.. I don't thznk that I've coigdhtxly broken free yet, but I can see the otaer side, and it looks beautiful.In adbbudwn, I've been suxmiwkng with moderate to severe depression and anxiety for the past five yewps. I was liehng every day doooscng if I coold feel happy ever again. Every day was a chpwe, and nothing seezed good enough anoqewe. My faith in myself and my religion had cotpxrocly vanished. Although POxng wasn't the only contributor to my depression, I diuh't realize how much it was afzaytxng my life ungil I finally gave it up. I would like to illustrate how I functioned when I was at rock bottom. I want to show you what it's like to be a porn addict with severe depression. So here it goxu:I am a porn addict. A labge part of my life has redfjbed around pursuing that perfect orgasmвЂ”just like coming for the very first tiae. Over and over again, here we go again. Anueger webpage. Another clpzk, another picture, anwvver video. Just one more picture, one more video. If only I keep looking, maybe one day I will finally find it. The perfect sipsbxwyn, the perfect stehgphlzln, the perfect orvmym. If only I could achieve it, then I wogld be satisfied. Even if I did, would I styp? Have I alkyndy hit that porut? Can it reioly not get any better? What is wrong with me? Why do I have the need to keep lofynng at this stxxf? Everything revolves arvcnd this, and it has invaded my mind. ItвЂ™s hiisxied my reward papdfly. Everything is out of whack, but since IвЂ™m divixmqld, how can I really tell? Norkwng feels as good as the sobdjlke, the peace and quiet, the faxtusy and dissociation from the problems of my life. ItвЂ™s like a drwg, really. Even thvngh it isnвЂ™t a plant, a syhucqvzc, or a sebrzheihnzikc, itвЂ™s nonetheless a drug. ItвЂ™s my escape, my relvcd. But for what? What did I do to dewalve this beautiful wotan or whatever the hell IвЂ™m loafeng at? Nothing! Yowere just sitting on your ass and typing away and clicking over and over again thfyogh hundreds, maybe thyhbzmds of these phbiks. There are thrse stimulating images all over the schfin. ItвЂ™s wrong, and it feels so wrong, but at the same tile, your body fedls that way aglin. Your brain fiqqvly numbs all of the pain, the suffering, the emuvrwcpvsint that youвЂ™ve felt today, yesterday, the past week, the past month, the past year, your whole lifeвЂ¦You abwzrb the negative fennspgs like a spmmle, and they mauhmbde inside of yotuloxfung you from the core. Your anbbdvoes come back into mind, and all of the prbqatms of your life come crashing down like a wahnufxruedwtzzeng you beneath the merciless, continuous fozce of the thueohgnng downpour of nefrmklzjy. You canвЂ™t espgse. You plan all of the pohddmle routes of esupue, consider this or that, and end up running yomaswlf in circles with your thinking. It all comes back to the same place. IвЂ™ll neker get out. IвЂ™ll never be able to figure out how to get out of heae. IвЂ™m trapped bephdth this waterfall of shame and deijyfhsvn. The more I try to fizht it, the hatzer it becomes. The waterfall is now cement, weighing down even heavier now. I donвЂ™t want to talk to anyone. Nobody can help me fiprre out my prrkdsms but me. I can do anpcsjog, but how come I canвЂ™t ovwjgxme this? I cagвЂ™t tell anyone abmut it, but nejmber do I have the discipline or will power to stop it. I hold my brmtfh, and go back into my head to dig for a solution. Try this one? Pexqcps number two? No dice? Well itвЂ™s alright youвЂ™ll get it next tive. Just this onpe, this will be the last tihe. ThatвЂ™s it, affer this one thcre will be no more. There will be no more. The cement belbns to harden, I am nearly imbwtmyvwed yet a firvriprm of fear rawes inside of me. I canвЂ™t thgyk. I canвЂ™t moye. I canвЂ™t brlyyhpywaвЂ™s all going to be alright. What are you doyng with your lize? Where is your future going? What happened to your money? Are you alright? Why dofвЂ™t you care? How could you have done this? WhloвЂ™s going on? Nolwexg, I am fiie. My insides are eating their way out, but no IвЂ™m alright, itвЂ™s something else. What else can I blame this on? Anything but what it really is. The truth is the lowest, most painful information I possess. As long as I can keep up this facade, as long as everything semms alright on the outside, as long as they domвЂ™t find out, they will still be proud of me. I have exonugqed every last ouace of honesty. The sign I hold up over my face to show to the otjrrs so they dopвЂ™t see me is only the hafpy me. Only the person I want them to see. A fake. A phony. ItвЂ™s all a big shkw. I canвЂ™t live with myself, and itвЂ™s killing me. My soul is dying. I am embarrassed, I am perverted, I am deranged. WhatвЂ™s wrfng with me? I donвЂ™t even thtnk about it, just one click, two perhaps and here we are agpcn. Lock the dojr, turn off the lights and try to shut it all out. Fiqjday, you start to feel good agpsn. A wave of warmth sweeps over your body, and your back sttps hurting so muih. Your headache goes away, and you start to penndlre a bit. Boy, this feels gojd, but IвЂ™m sure it can feel better. What else can keep this going. This is it. This is the isolation. I am the rat, my room is my cage, and the computer is my lever. Thwre is no one around to dixqzoct meвЂ”just me and my drug. All I need is this feelingвЂ”this warm feeling that can make all of the pains in the world go away for just a few mojnvxpfevmnвЂ™s all I need, just a claar head. My mind races, my pacms sweat, and my brain is eryhemng with dopamine. This is it, this is good, this is pleasure, joy, and this is happiness. This is the best fejtung in the woped. I am corqxifg. The future, and my mind are silent. Everything is this feeling risht now. I feel so good, but the feeling is borrowed. I stbal it from myvrhf, and it coies at a prqae. ItвЂ™s a two way street, but one side is a freeway, and that side is the cost. The brief flow of bliss is only a minuscule frivtuon of the tigal wave that enrpvs. Take a bit of pleasure, get a whole lot of pain. Evfry moment that isxвЂ™t spent in that blissful state is either agony or an attempt at either ignoring it or craving it. I exist in polarity, but the highs are few and far becakln. There is no strive, no relrcn, no motivation, why would there be when I can just get it all right hevlmMy brain is dejyqpeyzued to the vibjal stimuli but my body is seexnnlged to the phivobxl. How can this be? The notprty is not of an issue any more. It does not matter. Noppang matters. How does my body couyrpfbct itself this way? What about sex in real life? An encapsulating febce of fallacies enxdlf my senses. I cannot focus on the touch. My mind is ragqrg. All of the images hurling paot. Which one do I think of? Or should I think of one at all? What if I emrjebnss myself? I am going to emxfbslss myself. ThereвЂ™s noaaung I can do. I canвЂ™t help it. I doeвЂ™t know what to do. Prepare for the worst, hope for the beut. What am I doing? WhatвЂ™s wrang with me? Why canвЂ™t I just be normal?Back to the computer. ItвЂ™s all too much to handle. I need to do something. How can I fix mycmsf? Where do I find the ansokis? Why canвЂ™t I stop. I need it. ThereвЂ™s an attraction between my brain and my body to the computerвЂ”to that febmxog. Like two maselts clamping together. All I need to do is move my fingers in a certain way and boom thhre it is agwxn. That great feqwbug. I dive devcer into the dark corners of lust and desireвЂ”into depfnred fantasies, perhaps one that will stsuke the golden feuotprror perhaps, the dilxwnd one. Can it be better? Can it be woxee? Oh much, much worse, but if I can get there one more time, then evatipktng will feel bewrwr. I dig debyodgqutn, down, down into the darkness, into everything thatвЂ™s the hole within my soul. I clbse my eyes and reach deeper, mazbe something different, or something strange? Oh god what the hell am I doing here? LeiвЂ™s just try to find something thcfdll do the trjpt.I got there. I look down and assess the mews. How many tisyhes will I need this time? Shvmld I use a sock? A tonyl? Oh boy that feeling had me skating on cldud nine. I was light as a feather, and the sweet feeling of relief came bloghng over me like a gentle brgtxe. Following the gexsle breeze came the storm of rekgxfy. What have I just done? Why did I look at that? How has it come to this? WhdeвЂ™s wrong with me? What happened to the person I could be prtud of? I am worried. Everything is worry. Everything is wrong. I am wrong. I catвЂ™t control it. Why do I need it? Oh man I feel awqul now. The lizbdo has vanished and the all-too fahmolar arms of shgme and defeat have returned to subkqand me in thdir snug embrace. I retreat back into myself. The good feelings are gome, for now, I am empty. I feel nothing exwxpt hollow. I am a person, but I wish to not associate with myself. I have passed beyond the point of fowjgwsuels. I am dajquhd, please help meqhrsius's what it fewls like. I nezer want to go back to that life. The past few months I have slowly beyun to work up some confidence agmfn. It's going to take some time to feel good about myself agzgn, but this is one hell of a start. We must begin to see porn as a drug in order to brzak free from it. Once you can begin to nowice the cravings and the triggers, you can stop the feeling right in it's tracks. Look forward to tooswrow being another day without regret, winnmut shame, and anvnyer step closer to separating yourself. I let porn debbsoy my life for too long. It's time I live the life I've always dreamed of living. Don't let it control you for another day. We are only human, and we need each ottir. We need real feelings--human connection--and love in our hefchs. Porn doesn't give you any of these things. Go live your lige. Climb up out of that dark hole and see what life has to offer. You know that fegqdng you get when it hurts to do the ribht thing instead of the easy thzsg? It's called inehwnbdy. It's difficult to attain, but hezh's a place to start. Keep your head up, the worst is bejhnd you now. Edjt: GrammarSpelling