Letter to myself:
We’re done. I’m taking another step away from your terrible grasp. You tried to ruin me ever getting married, you have tried to ruin my marriage, you try to take away my job, you make me moody and short with my kids, and cause me to question my faith in God and my trust in Him, all while giving me emptiness in return. I am trading on that for something that makes me feel worse and I’m tired of it. I’m beginning my first workshop because digital accountability and even in-person accountability wasn’t enough. I can’t teach myself how to divorce myself from you. I need someone else to walk me through it. We’re done. I’m moving on. You’ll try to convince me to come back but it’s not going to work. You’ll try to flood my mind with all the sinful images I’ve seen over the years, but it won’t be enough. I’ve moved on to something better, something you can never come close to replicating.
Letter from my sex addict:
Here we go again, another poor attempt at defeating me. How many times have you said you are truly done with me? How many times have you prayed for forgiveness? Since you’ve been doing this for so long, you’re probably not even a believer. Look, the longer this has gone on, the better you’ve gotten at not getting caught, so why not just continue? Who is it really harming? You have your reasons for coming to me. Your wife doesn’t want to have sex as often as you, you don’t like your jobs, you’re bored all the time and easily distracted. Porn helps fill those voids and it’s always there. Even when you’ve tried to desperately avoid it, a temptation always appears. What are you supposed to do, cut yourself off from everything? That’s impossible, so why even try. This time will be no different than any of the other tries.