Letter to myself:
I hate having to hit the same notes over and over again with you, but apparently you don’t get the message. First of all, let’s start with some good things about you. The compliment sandwich, if you will.
You are smart. You have so much you can offer the world. You are a great writer. You love movies more than anyone I know. You can write eloquently about lots of things and you have so many ideas flowing through you, people want to experience these ideas. They want you to share your love with the world. I saw some segments of your new movie and it looks really interesting. I think you might have something there.
And you have people that care about you. Your family is nuts. But I mean, all our families are nuts. But your family loves you. Your older brothers actually care about you. Your parents are kind of nuts about you, especially your mom, who will sing your praises to everyone she meets. And you have lots of friends who think you’re the smartest, most honest person they know. They think you don’t have a fake bone in your body. And your girlfriend. Do you want me to even start talking about her, who loves you unconditionally, who knows your problem but decides that it’s not anything she’ll let get in the way of your love together.
Do you want to disappoint these people? It’s not a matter of shame. Shame is only good in leading you to guilt, to you feeling bad about what you’ve done, in making you seek forgiveness and not wanting to repeat the mistakes you’ve made. But shame can also entrap you. You can think you’re a hopeless case, but you’ve proven yourself with everything you’ve tried in your life, except for this. Why let this bad habit control you, be less than the rest of you? You don’t need it. You don’t want to be a prisoner to shame and bad habits and the empty rush of dopamine in your brain. You want to be more. You’re a notorious daydreamer. Why are you letting your lust get in the way of those dreams.
Every night you go to bed feeling like something hasn’t been accomplished. You feel like you haven’t done enough. You’re a bit of a productive nut. So why do you waste so much time on something that rationally you hate. I know you hate your bad habits. I know they disgust you. I know you hate yourself sometimes, but realize that this habit isn’t the entire you. It’s a broken part of you, but you can fix it. Everyone else is there ready to support you in fixing it. They gave you all the tools you need. But you’re the only one who can put the nails in the wood. They can supply the tools and the means, but you have to build it yourself. And you can totally build it.
But you often get sucked back down into the bog. Don’t. Just stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop feeling that it’s unfair that other people don’t have to struggle with these problems. They have their own problems. And many of them share this problem, but like you, they’re ashamed of it and would never admit it to you. Or they’re not even aware of these habits. But just because other people refuse to change doesn’t mean you should. Many people refuse to be good people. They don’t care about morals. They don’t care about God. They don’t care about what they’re sowing in life.
But you do. I know you do. You talk about it all the time. You read your books about idealists and spout your received wisdom to your girlfriend and formulate your ways you think people ought to live. But this habit, this awful habit that demeans women and yourself, this habit doesn’t conform to your ideals about the world. You love to think you’re better than everyone else, but this habit proves your not. You’re just another person saying one thing and doing another, professing to be good but being bad.
Stop being bad. Stop hurting yourself. Stop ruining the pleasures of life by perverting them. Stop making sex into something that is devoid of joy and is just a means of a getting a chemical rush. Are you a drug addict? Are you not better than the alcoholics who can’t go one day without getting drop dead drunk? If you were getting drunk every day, you’d realize you have a problem and you’d stop. If you ate McDonalds every day for lunch, you’d realize that you get nothing good from it and try to eat healthy. You would eat healthy.
So why don’t you do the same with this bad sexual habit? Why don’t you embrace the better part of you and kick your habits to the curb? I know that’s hard and I know that you’ve put years into these bad habits, but if you don’t want them to control you, you’ll have to stop at some time, and today is as good a day as any. Better even, because it means that all the days coming will be good days and not bad, that this habit won’t grow any stronger, but you will grow stronger.
Give it up now. Become the person you always profess to be. Prove that you have that exceptional self control that you brag about. Live up to your ideals. Be a good person. Have more fun in life. Get rid of the habits.
Do it. Now. No excuses anymore. Be strong. Be the person you are meant to be. Do God’s will. Be faithful. Be right. Be good.
Letter from my sex addict:
I am a weak willed person who is sick of himself. I’m so, so sick of myself. I swear this off and I fail and I swear it off and I fail and it seems to be a never ending cycle. I spend so much time on the computer, so the temptation is always there. Always tempting. I’m such a pathetic individual, I don’t listen.
I need to start listening. I want to become a better person. I want to go through days without ever thinking of these old, bad habits. I know that that’s a pipe dream, and that each day is its own challenge, but I survived yesterday so why can’t I survive today?
A week is just seven days. A month is only 30. A year is only 365. If I can make it one day, I can make it the day after that. And God can help me.
But it’s so hard. The pleasure is gone, but it’s not. It’s confusing. My body connects the pleasure with the shame. It perverts what I like with what I hate. I’m scared that if I give it up, I’m giving up pleasure. I need to understand that this is not the case. Real pleasure will come when I am free of these fetters.
I need to be free. I need to beat back the urges, the empty feelings that I need to give in because the urges will never subside. It’s a blatant lie. I’ve gotten through days where there were intense urges and I survived. I didn’t die. I felt good that I resisted at the end of the day.
I’m scared and I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to beat this. I wish there was a magical cure to fix me. I wish I could be good just by wanting it. I need help from God. I need help from myself.
I want this. I need to do this. I will do this. But it’s gonna be hard.