I'm 30 years old. I have never had any dreams. I have never had any sort of "When I grow up, I want to be a..." feeling. I have never given 100% of myself to anything. I do everything half-assed, but somehow still manage to make a good living and have a relatively happy life. Still, I know there is more. There is something huge missing. Sure, I have interests, but I never pursue them with the vigor and passion of someone who knows his calling. When I see someone doing exactly what they were put on this earth to do (master musicians usually), a great envy arises in me. I am sitting on the sidelines and watching the movers and the shakers actually get things done in this world.
There is a sort of "film" draped over my existence. I imagine as a sort of pond scum. This film is fapping. It keeps me from truly connecting with others and with myself. The latter is what scares me. If I never truly connect to my deepest potential, talents and desires, this life will be wasted. It already has been for so many years. How much longer will this continue?
I see into the future by looking at an uncle of mine who is over 20 years older than I am. I see him living under the same pond scum, disconnected from so much that life has to offer. He is working a mediocre custodial job, hasn't ever had a girlfriend that I know of, lives by himself and smokes weed constantly. My family found out recently that he was caught looking at pornography at work. This revelation leads me to believe he is hooked on fapping just like I am.
This kind of life is what awaits me if I fail to finally take control of my addiction to fapping. All the potential I have- as a musician, a lover/partner, thinker and human- will all be wasted. There is so much energy within me that could be used to create amazing things and help this world. Whenever my hand strokes my genitals, I am creating a short circuit. Instead of that intense energy blasting outward into work, music, art, learning or creating relationships, it is wasted on about 15 seconds of pleasure.
Every time I fap, I say yes to a mediocre life and no to a life full of realized potential. As always, the choice is mine.
Monday, April 28, 2014
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Day 5- Shifting Focus
Went to a movie with my sister last night. To the direct left and left-front of us sat two couples. Both of them were pretty wrapped up in each other. The woman in the couple directly to my left was wearing some pretty short shorts and the man had his hand resting on her thigh. The woman in the left-front couple wasn't really wearing anything revealing, but the way she was draped over her partner left the curves of her nice breasts exposed.
At first I simply took in the beauty of these two women to build fantasies. Like I always do, I took in data from the real world- their curves, their smiles, their legs- and put that data into my head in order to make up situations. Nevermind the fact that they were both sitting there with their respective partners. That's the great thing about the fantasy world- it doesn't matter if anyone is taken. You're not trying to hook up with her in real life, you're just trying to get enough visual stimulation to remember her when you are at home later getting off to her.
The bind in which I find myself now is that I'm no longer getting off to anyone in that way. I have stopped pleasuring myself, but the old habit of taking in and storing as much visual stimulation as possible is still there. How do I break myself of this habit? Put the blinders on? Should I simply not look at beautiful women? Or should I try and "zoom out," if you will, and see them for so much more than just pieces of flesh to be used for sexual pleasure? I could see them as living, breathing human beings who have their very own set of dreams, hopes, desires, wounds, needs and faults.
I've mentioned the upside of fantasy- the irrelevance of someone being attached or in a relationship. Now here's the downside: unattainable expectations. When you're banging someone in fantasyland, neither one of you possess any sort of "bad" or undesirable characteristics. She's fucking beautiful and smart and funny and kinky. You're the ultimate lover who is giving it to her every which way and she loves it all. Absolutely no vulnerability or humanness to it whatsoever. False.
After I realized how unnecessary it was to sit and mentally record the features of these women, I changed my point of focus. I began to view them in the context of their partnerships. I saw how the left-front man was running his fingers through his partner's hair. How their hands would meet and dance and then part again. I noticed the left woman's hand resting on her partner's hand, which was resting on her leg. I began to wonder if and when I would experience such intimacy. The thought came into my head that I am in no way ready to be with another. I have built up such a fantasy in my head about how it would be. Until that spell is broken and I can actually accept myself and someone else and all of the faults and realness that we have, I should not be involved.
I have no idea how long this will take and if it is even possible. I have heard about studies on neuroplasticity- the idea that the brain is a malleable and changeable thing. I know it's possible, it's just going to take a hell of a lot of work. Almost two decades of fantasy, of building up this false sense of what it is to be with someone. My brain is not going to change overnight. It is going to take months and months, maybe even years and years of catching myself doing the same old things. Slowly but surely, if I stick with this, I will start to see things shift.
My focus for now? Well, besides the obvious one of not getting off, I need to be very aware of how I'm viewing women to whom I'm attracted. If I immediately take in her beautiful face, then breasts, then ass, then I know I'm recreating those same old unattainable images and ideals in my head. This is where the awareness between impulse and action needs to be honed and developed. I can and will break this pattern.
The alternative is perpetual solitude.
At first I simply took in the beauty of these two women to build fantasies. Like I always do, I took in data from the real world- their curves, their smiles, their legs- and put that data into my head in order to make up situations. Nevermind the fact that they were both sitting there with their respective partners. That's the great thing about the fantasy world- it doesn't matter if anyone is taken. You're not trying to hook up with her in real life, you're just trying to get enough visual stimulation to remember her when you are at home later getting off to her.
The bind in which I find myself now is that I'm no longer getting off to anyone in that way. I have stopped pleasuring myself, but the old habit of taking in and storing as much visual stimulation as possible is still there. How do I break myself of this habit? Put the blinders on? Should I simply not look at beautiful women? Or should I try and "zoom out," if you will, and see them for so much more than just pieces of flesh to be used for sexual pleasure? I could see them as living, breathing human beings who have their very own set of dreams, hopes, desires, wounds, needs and faults.
I've mentioned the upside of fantasy- the irrelevance of someone being attached or in a relationship. Now here's the downside: unattainable expectations. When you're banging someone in fantasyland, neither one of you possess any sort of "bad" or undesirable characteristics. She's fucking beautiful and smart and funny and kinky. You're the ultimate lover who is giving it to her every which way and she loves it all. Absolutely no vulnerability or humanness to it whatsoever. False.
After I realized how unnecessary it was to sit and mentally record the features of these women, I changed my point of focus. I began to view them in the context of their partnerships. I saw how the left-front man was running his fingers through his partner's hair. How their hands would meet and dance and then part again. I noticed the left woman's hand resting on her partner's hand, which was resting on her leg. I began to wonder if and when I would experience such intimacy. The thought came into my head that I am in no way ready to be with another. I have built up such a fantasy in my head about how it would be. Until that spell is broken and I can actually accept myself and someone else and all of the faults and realness that we have, I should not be involved.
I have no idea how long this will take and if it is even possible. I have heard about studies on neuroplasticity- the idea that the brain is a malleable and changeable thing. I know it's possible, it's just going to take a hell of a lot of work. Almost two decades of fantasy, of building up this false sense of what it is to be with someone. My brain is not going to change overnight. It is going to take months and months, maybe even years and years of catching myself doing the same old things. Slowly but surely, if I stick with this, I will start to see things shift.
My focus for now? Well, besides the obvious one of not getting off, I need to be very aware of how I'm viewing women to whom I'm attracted. If I immediately take in her beautiful face, then breasts, then ass, then I know I'm recreating those same old unattainable images and ideals in my head. This is where the awareness between impulse and action needs to be honed and developed. I can and will break this pattern.
The alternative is perpetual solitude.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Day 0- Get Busy Livin or Get Busy Dyin
That's what I need to do. Execute my escape plan. Though unlike Andy Dufresne, I am not physically locked into a prison. I am relatively free in the physical world. I can go where I please for the most part. I own a car and am able-bodied enough to explore the outside world. There is not much that is restricting my physical movement.
However, I may as well be locked up in a prison like Dufresne was in the movie. Until I learn to escape the prison that is my mind and break free of unhealthy patterns such as self-pleasure, my freedom to roam in the physical world really isn't going to be fully realized. There is so much in my life that I feel like I could do if I could just break free from this one fucking addictive behavior. What is it that is keeping me here?
An interesting question just occurred to me: What if living up to my potential is what is scaring me? As long as I continue to give in to my urges and keep myself locked in this mental prison, I will never have to live up to my potential and fulfill the purposes for which I came to this Earth. On some very deep level, am I afraid to just "go for it"? I think this may be the answer. As I read on someone's Facebook post this morning: "It is now our own darkness we are afraid of. It is our light."
Why are we so afraid of fulfilling our respective destinies and finding our place in this world? Perhaps it's because we are so indoctrinated in this culture to think of ourselves as unworthy of such things. Well what happens if we start to believe that we are not only worthy enough to dream, but worthy enough to make those dreams come true? I imagine when this occurs, something quite spectacular happens and life tends to take on a more magical quality. I have heard of this occurring with certain people when they finally started living their Truth and daring to dream.
I have never had such ambitions. I often look back on the 30+ years that I have been on this planet and realize that I have never fully committed to anything. I got good grades in school even though I never really applied myself. I was an okay runner in track and cross country but save the last cross country race I ever ran I never pushed myself as far as I could have. In relationships I tend to wade in the shallow end of commitment. Then when I do decide to dive deep with someone I usually end up feeling like I'm suffocating and I break things off. Either way, I'm never super invested emotionally. Even with my dog I don't feel super attached to her. My job either.
I see now that there is nothing inherently unattractive about any of these things that make up my life. I have a great job where I make a very nice living. My dog is sweet as can be and absolutely adores me. This town offers me plenty of opportunities to connect and create community. The problem is not outside of me. It is within. Until I break this pattern of unworthiness, this feeling that I am not allowed to discover and fulfill my life's purpose, nothing will ever change.
"Get busy livin or get busy dyin."
I say once again, just like I said yesterday: The Choice is Mine. I gave in this morning and pleasured myself. Will I choose that same thing over and over, slowly wasting away and letting my potential go untapped? Or will I finally put my foot down and say enough is enough? What is it going to take to finally make that decision and stick with it? I have no idea. The search continues...
Monday, April 14, 2014
Day 2- Fantasy and Evolution
Beautiful women everywhere. Where have they been? Where have the come from? Or have I just not noticed them because during the winter months they weren't quite as scantily clad? I'm not sure, but even on a not-so-warm day like today, gorgeous women are everywhere. There is one in line at the coffee shop right now at whom I cannot stop sneaking glances. Summer dress that shows off the beautiful curves of her ass just enough to excite the imagination.
What's the difference between being a totally sex-obsessed pervert and simply being a human being? Where is the line? Some would say I'm simply a human animal and that being so sexually driven and drawn to gorgeous women is in my nature. Then why the guilt? Religously and culturally imposed? Could be. But I also think that there is a certain line that doesn't need to be crossed when it comes to sexual compulsion.
It's like a short circuit. At some point you do it enough and instead of seeking it out with another person for the purposes of procreation or the sharing of pleasure and love, you begin to only do it in a solitary setting. The irony? You're fantasizing about doing it with another, but whenever the opportunity to actually experience that comes along, it never compares to what you have built up in your head.
So yes, one could argue that sexual compulsion (and even masturbation) occurs in other animals. One could then argue that since we are merely animals as well that compulsive behavior such as that is healthy. But here's where I think the differentiation takes place- fantasy. There are plenty of animals out there who participate in the act of self-pleasure. In fact, a quick google search revealed this interesting article: http://www.iflscience.com/plants-and-animals/self-love-animal-kingdom.
But the million-dollar question is this: Do they fantasize? I'm pretty sure science either does not have the answer for this or has not investigated it yet, but I can't imagine that animals do such a thing. It is most likely just an instinctive behavior that is in their genes. So what about our genes? Is fantasizing built into our DNA, or is it something we learn as a coping mechanism? I can think of no better way to escape emotional, spiritual or physical distress than to get lost in thought about a non-existent situation that is far more comforting than present circumstances. This is because I have done this regularly for almost two decades.
I can't imagine that fantasy is built into us from the get go. It does not seem to serve our evolutionary purposes. If the ultimate goal of biology, genetics and "survival of the fittest" is to spread your seed and genes as far and wide as possible, then the act of fantasizing- taking you out of the real-world present moment and thus any opportunities for mating/procreation- would seem to work against that goal. A squirrel sitting in his nest and fantasizing about tapping some sweet girl-squirrel ass, but never actually getting out there and doing it, is unlikely to have his genes continue on for very long. Similarly, a guy who sits at home and gets off to the fantasies that porn provides is probably not going to end up getting laid in real life and having children.
When thinking about all of this, it occurs to me that fantasy is contrary to evolution. Which do I want to do? Continue to evolve, grow and learn or sit at home and continue to get lost and get off in fantasy? The choice is mine.
What's the difference between being a totally sex-obsessed pervert and simply being a human being? Where is the line? Some would say I'm simply a human animal and that being so sexually driven and drawn to gorgeous women is in my nature. Then why the guilt? Religously and culturally imposed? Could be. But I also think that there is a certain line that doesn't need to be crossed when it comes to sexual compulsion.
It's like a short circuit. At some point you do it enough and instead of seeking it out with another person for the purposes of procreation or the sharing of pleasure and love, you begin to only do it in a solitary setting. The irony? You're fantasizing about doing it with another, but whenever the opportunity to actually experience that comes along, it never compares to what you have built up in your head.
So yes, one could argue that sexual compulsion (and even masturbation) occurs in other animals. One could then argue that since we are merely animals as well that compulsive behavior such as that is healthy. But here's where I think the differentiation takes place- fantasy. There are plenty of animals out there who participate in the act of self-pleasure. In fact, a quick google search revealed this interesting article: http://www.iflscience.com/plants-and-animals/self-love-animal-kingdom.
But the million-dollar question is this: Do they fantasize? I'm pretty sure science either does not have the answer for this or has not investigated it yet, but I can't imagine that animals do such a thing. It is most likely just an instinctive behavior that is in their genes. So what about our genes? Is fantasizing built into our DNA, or is it something we learn as a coping mechanism? I can think of no better way to escape emotional, spiritual or physical distress than to get lost in thought about a non-existent situation that is far more comforting than present circumstances. This is because I have done this regularly for almost two decades.
I can't imagine that fantasy is built into us from the get go. It does not seem to serve our evolutionary purposes. If the ultimate goal of biology, genetics and "survival of the fittest" is to spread your seed and genes as far and wide as possible, then the act of fantasizing- taking you out of the real-world present moment and thus any opportunities for mating/procreation- would seem to work against that goal. A squirrel sitting in his nest and fantasizing about tapping some sweet girl-squirrel ass, but never actually getting out there and doing it, is unlikely to have his genes continue on for very long. Similarly, a guy who sits at home and gets off to the fantasies that porn provides is probably not going to end up getting laid in real life and having children.
When thinking about all of this, it occurs to me that fantasy is contrary to evolution. Which do I want to do? Continue to evolve, grow and learn or sit at home and continue to get lost and get off in fantasy? The choice is mine.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Day 0- Where is Rock Bottom?
It all started with alcohol. Went out to dinner last night with my sister and some friends. Ended up having 4 drinks all night, but I'm starting to realize that even that takes its toll. I woke up this morning irritable and depressed. Maggie kept waking me up when all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day. I finally got out of bed sometime past 11.
Since I felt so shitty this morning, I resorted to the one thing that I have always resorted to: self-pleasure. I got myself off once before I even got out of bed and then again in the shower. Such a fucking vicious cycle it is. I get off to feel good, but the feel good only lasts so long. Then I'm left with the same feelings I had before plus the guilt from getting myself off.
When will this stop?
I shouldn't ask in that way. That's so fucking passive. That sort of language takes the responsibility out of my hands and pretends that there is some other agency or entity that's in control of my compulsions. A giant cop out, that's what that is.
When will I put a stop to this?
Seriously, are all of these entries simply going to be about me failing to control myself? In which case, maybe there should be a betting pool amongst the readers that I don't have to see how long it will take me to off myself. Andrew Bird plays on the radio here at the coffee shop and I ponder how much of my life has been wasted on addiction. Yup, I just called a spade a spade. I'm addicted to getting myself off.
The first step is to admit you have a problem, right? Yes, but I don't think I want to follow the other 11 steps. I don't want to see this thing as something that I am ever powerless against. I don't want to go to meetings where every time I introduce myself, I put the words, "I am a sex addict" on the back end. Language and its implications are so damn important to me. When you constantly exclaim, in the company of witnesses, that you have a disease and you are powerless to it, what kind of message is that programming into your being?
So the subject here is rock bottom. How far down can I go before I finally hit bottom? Granted, I don't indulge in self-pleasure nearly as much as I used to, just like I don't drink alcohol nearly as much as I used to. But just like with alcohol, the smallest indulgence is felt very heavily these days. I seem to be getting more sensitive to the fact that these behaviors are only holding me back and keeping me from fulfilling the enormous amounts of potential that exist within and all around me.
So what's it going to be today? I've already gotten off twice this morning. My typical response to this would be to go ahead and mail it in for the day. Get myself off a bunch more today with the tired old mantra of "I'll start fresh tomorrow." Fuck that. I'm starting right now. Why are days the period of time by which we live so much of our lives? If I became sensitive enough to time and could discern when each individual moment was arising and passing, then could I simply abstain every moment, thus leading to a life free from this goddamn addiction?
I really hope this is bottom. Once again, I'm using passive language. Why not just make this bottom? Why not remember how fucking awful I feel today and decide that I will go no lower than this? That I'll start to claw my way back to the top? Can I make such a decision?
Since I felt so shitty this morning, I resorted to the one thing that I have always resorted to: self-pleasure. I got myself off once before I even got out of bed and then again in the shower. Such a fucking vicious cycle it is. I get off to feel good, but the feel good only lasts so long. Then I'm left with the same feelings I had before plus the guilt from getting myself off.
When will this stop?
I shouldn't ask in that way. That's so fucking passive. That sort of language takes the responsibility out of my hands and pretends that there is some other agency or entity that's in control of my compulsions. A giant cop out, that's what that is.
When will I put a stop to this?
Seriously, are all of these entries simply going to be about me failing to control myself? In which case, maybe there should be a betting pool amongst the readers that I don't have to see how long it will take me to off myself. Andrew Bird plays on the radio here at the coffee shop and I ponder how much of my life has been wasted on addiction. Yup, I just called a spade a spade. I'm addicted to getting myself off.
The first step is to admit you have a problem, right? Yes, but I don't think I want to follow the other 11 steps. I don't want to see this thing as something that I am ever powerless against. I don't want to go to meetings where every time I introduce myself, I put the words, "I am a sex addict" on the back end. Language and its implications are so damn important to me. When you constantly exclaim, in the company of witnesses, that you have a disease and you are powerless to it, what kind of message is that programming into your being?
So the subject here is rock bottom. How far down can I go before I finally hit bottom? Granted, I don't indulge in self-pleasure nearly as much as I used to, just like I don't drink alcohol nearly as much as I used to. But just like with alcohol, the smallest indulgence is felt very heavily these days. I seem to be getting more sensitive to the fact that these behaviors are only holding me back and keeping me from fulfilling the enormous amounts of potential that exist within and all around me.
So what's it going to be today? I've already gotten off twice this morning. My typical response to this would be to go ahead and mail it in for the day. Get myself off a bunch more today with the tired old mantra of "I'll start fresh tomorrow." Fuck that. I'm starting right now. Why are days the period of time by which we live so much of our lives? If I became sensitive enough to time and could discern when each individual moment was arising and passing, then could I simply abstain every moment, thus leading to a life free from this goddamn addiction?
I really hope this is bottom. Once again, I'm using passive language. Why not just make this bottom? Why not remember how fucking awful I feel today and decide that I will go no lower than this? That I'll start to claw my way back to the top? Can I make such a decision?
Friday, April 11, 2014
Day 1
Oh the misery of starting over. I was only about 5 days in yesterday and now I'm back to the beginning. I ended up playing with myself a couple times last night. What prompted it?
Loneliness.
I opted to stay home rather than go out. I just didn't really feel like being all that social and I really didn't want to drink. So one of my roommates was gone and the other one went to bed pretty early and I was alone in the living room. At first I got online just to try and find someone to chat with, but then it quickly turned into me with my dick out and trying to find a girl to get off to on omegle and chatroulette.
If I read these words about someone else, they would seem incredibly sad. And they are. It is sad that at almost 31 years old, I still isolate myself in such a way. If I could just get beyond this barrier and let go of the compulsion to get myself off, I'd probably end up making some real, lasting connections with people. Real people. Not only intimate connections either. Friendships.
I sit here with my headphones on at a tea shop, listening to the new Frusciante album as a big group of people to my left plans their Beltane ceremony. Such a sense of community from them. I still have never found my people in this town. Is that because I have constantly kept myself at arm's length from everyone? Or is Asheville just not the place I'm supposed to be? Only one way to find out.
I'm going to spend the next six months in this town completely sober of self-pleasure. I will not get myself off for the next 179 days and some odd hours. I don't know how many times I can promise this to myself before I actually follow through with it. I could say that this time is going to be the real time, the time where I finally do it. That would be putting the cart before the horse though. One day at a time.
I think about sex right now and realize that I probably would have no idea what to do right now. Well, I'd know what to do physically. That is so trained into my brain and body that I will probably never forget. I know what to do with a woman's body, but not with her heart, mind and soul. What is real connection? I don't know. Will I ever? Not if I continue with this bullshit that has driven me like a slave master for almost two decades.
There is a girl at work who I think likes me. Just from the way she looks at me and talks to me, I'm pretty sure she's interested. I just want to tell her, "Don't bother, I'm damaged. I'll just end up fucking you over." I know this is not a good attitude to have about myself, but I can't help it at this point. Past experience simply shows to me that I'm not emotionally intelligent enough to be in any sort of relationship. The only interactions I can have with women at this point that are beyond platonic are strictly sexual, physical ones. That's not a healthy thing for me at this point either, because it will just keep reinforcing the skewed view I have of women- beautiful pieces of meat to be used for physical pleasure, without any sort of emotional investment or feeling.
I look at couples around me and I don't know how the fuck they do it. What does it mean to be in a relationship? It means taking someone for all that they are. I'm in no way capable of doing that yet, probably because I'm not ready to take myself for all that I am. I saw how fucked up things ended up with Rebecca for this very reason. When I knew her as the beautiful, talented, sexy, fun girl then everything was totally fine. Then the longer we were together, the more I saw the deeper, sadder parts of her. I wasn't emotionally available enough to accept those things and love her anyways.
The land of intimacy, dating and romance might as well be Mars for me, at this point.
Loneliness.
I opted to stay home rather than go out. I just didn't really feel like being all that social and I really didn't want to drink. So one of my roommates was gone and the other one went to bed pretty early and I was alone in the living room. At first I got online just to try and find someone to chat with, but then it quickly turned into me with my dick out and trying to find a girl to get off to on omegle and chatroulette.
If I read these words about someone else, they would seem incredibly sad. And they are. It is sad that at almost 31 years old, I still isolate myself in such a way. If I could just get beyond this barrier and let go of the compulsion to get myself off, I'd probably end up making some real, lasting connections with people. Real people. Not only intimate connections either. Friendships.
I sit here with my headphones on at a tea shop, listening to the new Frusciante album as a big group of people to my left plans their Beltane ceremony. Such a sense of community from them. I still have never found my people in this town. Is that because I have constantly kept myself at arm's length from everyone? Or is Asheville just not the place I'm supposed to be? Only one way to find out.
I'm going to spend the next six months in this town completely sober of self-pleasure. I will not get myself off for the next 179 days and some odd hours. I don't know how many times I can promise this to myself before I actually follow through with it. I could say that this time is going to be the real time, the time where I finally do it. That would be putting the cart before the horse though. One day at a time.
I think about sex right now and realize that I probably would have no idea what to do right now. Well, I'd know what to do physically. That is so trained into my brain and body that I will probably never forget. I know what to do with a woman's body, but not with her heart, mind and soul. What is real connection? I don't know. Will I ever? Not if I continue with this bullshit that has driven me like a slave master for almost two decades.
There is a girl at work who I think likes me. Just from the way she looks at me and talks to me, I'm pretty sure she's interested. I just want to tell her, "Don't bother, I'm damaged. I'll just end up fucking you over." I know this is not a good attitude to have about myself, but I can't help it at this point. Past experience simply shows to me that I'm not emotionally intelligent enough to be in any sort of relationship. The only interactions I can have with women at this point that are beyond platonic are strictly sexual, physical ones. That's not a healthy thing for me at this point either, because it will just keep reinforcing the skewed view I have of women- beautiful pieces of meat to be used for physical pleasure, without any sort of emotional investment or feeling.
I look at couples around me and I don't know how the fuck they do it. What does it mean to be in a relationship? It means taking someone for all that they are. I'm in no way capable of doing that yet, probably because I'm not ready to take myself for all that I am. I saw how fucked up things ended up with Rebecca for this very reason. When I knew her as the beautiful, talented, sexy, fun girl then everything was totally fine. Then the longer we were together, the more I saw the deeper, sadder parts of her. I wasn't emotionally available enough to accept those things and love her anyways.
The land of intimacy, dating and romance might as well be Mars for me, at this point.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Day 5
The urge to connect in some artificial way is starting to rear its ugly head. That's not to say that okcupid, plentyoffish, craigslist or any of the other myriad of online personals sites are necessarily "artificial." They're just played out. I've been looking for someone online for years now. I've found a few people, but nothing has ever worked out with any of them. I'm pretty convinced that I'm never going to find a lasting relationship on the internet.
I'm also never going to find a lasting relationship as long as I'm giving in to the urges that I've given into for so many years. The compulsion to pleasure myself is damaging on so many levels.
It isolates me, keeping me from wanting to establish and maintain any sort of connection with a real human being.
It makes my standards unrealistically high. The danger with constantly fantasizing is that no woman will ever live up to such hype. When I first meet a woman in whom I'm interested, I tend to get so excited in thinking that she's the perfect one. Well, the truth is that there is no "perfect" one. Everyone has their problems. Every relationship is going to have its ups and downs. The problem with constant and prolonged compulsive masturbation is that it reconditions your brain to think that there are actually women out in the real world who are just like the ones you fantasize about in your head. There are not.
I'm listening to John Frusciante's new album, Enclosure. What a fucking creative genius. Is he really all that different from me though? We both have equal access to the ever-flowing creative force of the Universe. He has just done a hell of a lot better of a job harnessing it. I think that is another thing that has been hampered by my constant masturbation.
I don't think there is any sort of scientific proof for it, but so many wisdom traditions of the past have promoted living a life without ejaculation. Something about a man's semen containing his life force, so that when you ejaculate, you are weakening yourself. Makes sense based on my experience of compulsive masturbation and then abstinence.
So how am I feeling today? So-so. I don't feel great, but I've had worse days. I got up this morning and went to yoga, then had coffee with my sister. After that I took Maggie out in the woods for a while so she could run. Now I'm just relaxing at home.
Nothing else to say, so I'm going for now...
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