Letter to myself:
I’m sick of you.
Sick of the life you lead and the filth you bring.
Sick of your empty promises of fun and excitement. At least you don’t promise happiness, that would just be a stupid outright lie. You are smarter, craftier than that. You spin half truths with you threads of putricity, creating garments, decorations that are glitzy and eye-catching like some cheap toy bought at the circus or state fair- over priced, cheaply made, fun to play with for a night but tossed in the trash the next morning. And if I closely examine your colorful, flashy treats, I can see and smell the utter death and decay, the feces, the rotting corpses, broken dreams, hollow shells of once beautiful, hopeful people reduced to sludge from a garbage disposer slung into a dumpster.
Sick of the feelings of worthlessness I have after time spent with you.
Sick of the lost time with my wonderful wife and precious children that i can NEVER regain. But I can invest in them NOW! It will take time to gain trust, build memories and rekindle the affections. But it will happen and not because of anything YOU have done, nothing associated to you.
Sick of my own lack of confidence because I’m too distracted looking at and thinking of people in ungodly ways to concentrate on my work, my time with God, my free time to relax, even my projects and chores around the house. Because I have let you rule and reign, I became careless in my work, unable to remember critical things. My mind was corrupted. Like a flash drive or hard drive unable to properly store, sort and recall vital information. One of my dreams, of writing stories that challenge, encourage and strengthen followers of God, you have successfully smashed by wasting my time with you instead of using my creative energies in the right, God-honoring way.
Sick of the way you clog up my brain confusion you make it difficult for me to sort through things. I have no doubt that my work is affected. It’s compromised is weakened and ineffectual because I do not walk daily with the Lord God Almighty. When I walk with you it feels like clips from the Holocaust films of German soldiers wading through dead bodies, dumping them with front loaders, pushing them in mass graves. I feel ugly and dirty and disgusting because of you. And that is a choice that I’ve chosen over and over again.
Sick of the control I have given to you- you don’t have power of your own unless I invite you in, give you room and let you stay. You are nothing more than a derelict bum I let reside in my house. You are like a friend I’ve known a long time, most of my life in fact, a friend that constantly gets me in trouble, takes me places I really don’t want to go, a friend that NEVER wants anything for me with long term beneifts, just short term, superficial fun. A friend that has no good purposed for me, ever.
Sick of your ability to even interrupt my time with my God. I’m in His throne room, thinking of and talking to Him when I hear you scratching at the door, knocking on the window, yelling from outside to come and play. How dare you interrupt my time with God Almighty. How foolish of me to let you.
I will say you are faithful friend you’re always there. Some of my godly friends have not been. You faithfully wound me, cut me and you laugh. You’re always there when I look for you, when I’m ready to hang out. You are always there to mock me as you’re leading me into this filth. You stand back and laugh, knowing the pain it will cause me. You’re like those perverted twisted kids in a movie who coax a friend to do something that they know it’s going to hurt, know it’s gonna cause him pain. And yet they all get drunk together and do it and then they laugh at the kid’s misfortune. That’s you.
Yes there are going to be stressful times. Stress at work or because of bills. Stress with the kids or the kids’ choices. Stress with Lois at times. But I’m going to learn to not come back to you for help. What a joke. You can’t help me through those times. Yes you can medicate me for a short period of time. Then once your medicine wears off the situation is worse than ever before. I don’t want to medicate myself with the numbness that you provide, with the distractions that you provide. It is going to be difficult. It’s going to be uncomfortable to make those new friendships, to be vulnerable, for people who I know to realize the issues I have. I get that. Let’s do this.
Isaiah 32 speaks of people like you. “Their hearts are bent on evil; they practice ungodliness and utter falsely concerning the Lord; the hungry they leave empty and from the thirsty they withhold water…they make up evil schemes to destroy with lies.” And I think verse 4 is particularly applicable of me: “the tongue of the stammerers will be ready to speak plainly.” I am ready. Bring it.
You will not be a reason for me to deceive others and lie about what I’ve been doing any longer. Or why I didn’t get things done. Instead, I will be able to proudly declare what I’ve been up to.
I’m done with you. Get your crap packed up. Get out.
I know there will be times I will think of you and the “fun” we time we spent together and some lonely times when I’m tired and alone, I will even think it would be fun to hang with you. I will have to retrain my brain to learn again what purity feels like and what disgust feels like so I can put those feelings in the proper categories. Even when u were welcomed in, I still had limits, things I refused to do. And yes, over the years, decades, u whittled down some of those limits a bit. Now I have to redraw the lines, rebuild the walls, reconstruct the defenses to keep ur disgusting self out, out, out and far away from me.
I know it’s going to feel uncomfortable but I will have to get over it for this whole relationship to change. And yeah I’m going to embarrassed of little bit for that for this to change. Maybe even embarrassed a lot. For so long I’ve hidden it all so I would not be embarrassed and was so mortified of being found out. Now I will expose YOU for what you are- an imposter and a fake.
I don’t want my boys growing up and struggling with this for 40 years like I have. I don’t want my daughter to grow up and be the object of somebody. I don’t want her to fall for a man can’t deal with this in a godly way. I don’t want my wife to leave me to go to some other man who’s going to show her the way that a Christian man should live or worse for her to deceptively go to some other man who’s like me or worse.
You will not overpower me. I have the Lord Jesus Christ on my side. Yes I will fall sometimes. I am human. I am not an angel, unable to sin. I am not perfect. I will stumble but Yahweh is there to pick me up, love me, hold me, empower me, protect me like you have never done and will never do. I will build up my defenses against you. It won’t be just me this time. Maybe Celebrate Recovery along with the xxxchurch website. In Isaiah 41:10 the ultimate Encourager speaks: Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Vs 13 says it simply: For I, the Lord you God, will hold your right hand, saying to you, “Fear not, I will help you.” And here is a word to you, you retched being. Verse 24 speaks of idols, false gods: Indeed you are nothing, and your work is nothing; he who chooses you is an abomination.” I am through being an abomination before my God because of my iniquity with you.
It will take time to regain the purity I had 30+ years ago. Even then I had issues. I was young and confused, lonely and unsure. I knew right from wrong and I chose you willingly. But in the next weeks, months, years I will grow stronger and stronger and be able to keep you at bay, away from my inner most thoughts longer and longer.
I’ll bring home some boxes and help you pack! You are not welcome here. Get. Out.
Letter from my sex addict:
Whatever! Really? You’re kicking me out? Whatever.
You’re the one who always comes looking for me, crying because your pathetic life sucks. “Waaaa, I’m bored. Waaaa, show me some fun. How about that last time? That was pretty cool. Come on bring on that high again.”
YOU. You are the problem, not me. You don’t know what you want and certainly aren’t planning to put forth the energy to get it, whatever it is. You don’t have the balls to say no for more than a week, maybe two. A month very rarely. Sure you had some freak 3 month thing a year ago. Maybe you were sick or something. But that’s okay, I’m kept whispering in your ear and finally you came a running. Ha. You can’t ever resist me for long. It just ain’t happening bro.
You can’t give me up. You don’t know how to live without me. I’m like comfort food, right? Ha. You don’t know how to spend an evening alone without me! You don’t know how to walk through a store or the mall without leering and looking. Even when you crawl in bed with your wife, your thoughts are wandering. You know it.
You are so weak. You have no resolve. Your kids know. Your wife knows. You are fooling no one. Why do you think you can’t teach at church? Not because you r nervous. It’s because your life is empty, meaningless and full of hypocrisy. You know you don’t deserve that privilege of teaching. You can’t write because you are pathetic, not because you are obsessed and possessed by my thoughts, although you are! You can’t concentrate because I distract you with fun stuff, more fun than you can have being a “good boy”. Ha. You had years of that in school. And where did it get you? Frustrated and confused, always looking for answers. Well I’ve shown you a few answers, haven’t I!
You know you love it. You have loved it for years and years and years. You will come back. You always do. You may be absent from me for a while but you will be thinking about me and looking forward to the next time we hang out. That’s sure happened before hasn’t it? When u were reading that worthless book of false hopes and stories and wasting your time talking to the Creator, yes I will call him that, you always had me on the back burner simmering. And I was there bubbling away. Brewing up some plans.
You don’t have any right to write stories about God or about Christians. Who would read your crap anyway? You don’t have any right to teach others how to live, unless you are real and show them how YOU live. You don’t have any right to tell anyone what to do. Unless you’re going to tell them how to spend unforgettable time with me. You know how to do that alright! You should do that. You should write a book about how to screw it all up. You’re a failure. You don’t even live up to the own your own rules, your own standards because they’re impossible and you know that. Hypocrite. That’s a good word. I like the way it sounds. I like what it means. And I love the way it feels.
This high you are feeling now, this righteous high is going to be gone. It won’t last. Then you are going to be lonely and you going to be frustrated. And you will turn back to me, the old tried and true. You know I’m right. You come back to me over and over because you know what you want is just natural and your natural inclinations are going to come back. You can’t help it. You just can’t help yourself. You’re pathetic. So when that high of porn-free life is over come back and visit. I’ll show you a better high. And then you can go try your porn-free high again if you want. I bet you don’t.Even while you are sober this time, living this so called guilt free, porn free, masturbation free short bit of time, you will be planning for our next get together, our next little outing. I will be waiting. You’ll be back.
Don’t worry I don’t judge. I won’t be too upset while you ditch me. Revenge is sweet. Oh did I say that out loud? Yeah, when you come back we will soar to new highs …ha…I mean LOWs together. I can’t wait to tear you apart, destroy your family, eradicate your witness, your so called friends that have never stood by you when you tried this idiocy before. You will be all alone, bro. Don’t be lonely. I’m here.