15 Jul 2013, 6:38 AM - 17 Jul 2013, 7:24 AM
So, after reading several other blogs, I decided that it would be a good idea to let those who read my journal (and to get it into writing) know who I am and where I stand.
A word of warning though. Only read this at your own risk. It is my very personal history and has portions of it that are intended only for those strong enough to read them. This is a work in progress and may change from time to time.
My story begins when I was seven years old. This was the earliest time I can remember even liking a girl and being attracted for the first time in my life. In fact, not only did I feel that way, but I thought that I was supposed to pick one out in particular. I was in second grade and decided on a girl I thought might fit the bill. I remember that this was not a real crush, it was kind of forced--remember, I thought I had to find a crush. At any rate, I wasn't quite sure what it was about her that made me want to like her, but I sent her a cheesy Valentine's Day card that year and would watch her on the playground.
This continued for three more years really. You could say that I got sort of jealous that she always hung out with her best friend. Well, I decided that maybe her best friend was cute too and started staring at her (since she was in my class in fourth grade and my original "crush" wasn't). But that year I saw a third girl who actually was the first one who caught my eye for real. I felt quite conflicted. Here I had spent three years developing a fake crush in my mind and then suddenly I actually felt attracted to a girl for real for the first time. I didn't want to give up my original crush, but this new one was worth situating myself in my desk so I could face her all the time. It helped that I was already in the advanced pull-out class and she and one other guy came with me once a week to go to that.
When I was seven I had a pretty foul mouth. But I knew I had to be baptized. I knew I would not be worthy if I swore. So one day, I made up my mind that I was going to stop and never do it again. And that was that. In fact, it has only been in the past year that I even said a bad word in order to repeat what a student of mine said only. I refused to even give the first letter of a bad word for years. And I was proud to say that I had not knowingly said a bad word for over 20 years! But having done so taught me one life lesson: I was able to give up sin cold turkey and never look back. All I had to do was choose to do so!
I have always been an early riser. Part of this was due to the fact that I couldn't sleep well as a kid and partly because my family always got up early for family scripture study and prayer on weekdays. On weekends, however, I was left on my own. I still got up earlier than everyone else and couldn't go back to sleep. So, I would get up and wander the house. Sometimes I would swipe a snack cake from the pantry (these were for school and work lunches only, but we all took them). Usually, I would go watch TV with the volume very low, especially to watch my favorite show: Garfield and Friends. Occasionally, though, I would grab the newspaper and read some portion of it or go through the books in the house and look for picture books or simple readers.
Third grade. This was when I discovered one of my mom's mammography self-help books. It was illustrated with live pictures for demonstration. Sadly, those pictures are solidly implanted into my brain. I would wait all week just to get up early on a Saturday and have another peek at that book. This went on for quite some time. One morning I was caught by one of my brothers. Instead of scolding me however, he seemed to join me as we explored the pictures. I thought he eventually lost interest, but apparently he already knew about it and had been viewing them on his own. But this is my story not his. Nevertheless, as it turns out, I still wanted to hide it from him because he would take it from me and look at it himself, telling me that I needed to be older to see it. I never shared it with him again. From then on, it became my secret.
Fourth grade sex-ed. I remember getting the permission slip from my school and bringing it home. I was embarrassed to even let anyone know I had a piece of paper with the word "sex" on it. My parents said they did not mind whether or not I participated in this and left the decision up to me. I said I would try to be strong and go through it. They signed the paper. I turned it in. I dreaded the day that it would come.
The day came. The lesson was shared with a neighboring class. The boys came into my classroom and the girls left to the other classroom. The nurse had brought in a video for us to watch. It showed people in happy relationships holding hands and having picnics, but then it showed the couple kissing. This is where it went "bad". The video then explained how chemical processes affected the brain and made certain changes in the body. It then explained what happened to the body as it developed. I did NOT want to know that. I must have been rather naive as a kid, because up until then, it never occurred to me that girls' bodies and boys' bodies were different. I always knew how to tell the difference with what was on the chest, but that was about it. I was shocked! And then I learned what happens when arousal happens. I was done with sex-ed. I never wanted to participate again. I never did.
I'm going to backtrack a little now. I was quite shy when I was in elementary school. In fact, at lunch time the most I ever did was roam around the entire playground and count how many times I could do so in the time allotted. I think I got up to about 20 or so. Then there was L. I always sat by myself for lunch. L was a grade lower than I was, but she saw me and invited me to sit with her and her friends. She instantly became one of my best friends. We always ate and played together. In fact, we got upset if we could not find each other. It's a shame I didn't know why she invited me to sit with her until I was leaving elementary school. . .it was because she liked me. I started to have a real crush on her by the end of fifth grade, but I was going to be in sixth grade in the middle school and she was going to be in fifth grade at the elementary. Relationships change when you are gone for a year, especially when young and time seems to last a lot longer.
I also joined orchestra. This is where I met A and J. They were both girls who played the violin along with me. Later in I would end up spending a LOT of time with them. Sufficeth it to say at this time, that I went to orchestra once or twice a week and it was attended by mostly girls. I was happy.
Well, time continued as time does. I would view the book from time to time, but it would sometimes not be interesting to me. Eventually, one day it disappeared. I don't know where it went, but somehow it managed to reappear several months later without my noticing. I started to turn my attention elsewhere: newspaper adds.
Because I always got up early, I was usually the first one to get up early on Sunday mornings. Therefore I was usually the one to get the morning paper. I was always excited to get this paper because it seemed every store on Earth put an advertisement in there. Well, it didn't take me long to realize, especially in the summer months, that beside the bras and panties section in the magazines, I could also find plenty of swimsuits too. At times, I would go so far as to actually steal the ads and hide them elsewhere so I could enjoy them.
The good news is that I was not fully addicted to them. I was opportunistic. I could go any amount of time I wanted without seeing it. It was mostly a weekend morning thing before cartoons came on. In fact, I wasn't entirely convinced that I was doing anything wrong other than I wouldn't tell anyone. I was acquainted with a term called "pornography" but it never occurred to me that that was what I was viewing.
In time, I attended middle school. Sixth grade was a strange time in my life. I started to realize that I was maturing, and others around me were too. Most importantly, I realized that I was becoming seriously interested in the girls around me. This is when the real trouble started.
I remember this following scene so clearly, it is as clear to my memory as any that I could conjure up from only moments ago. I remember that it was fifth period, in my sixth-grade mathematics class. We were working with a mock Wheel of Fortune game we had created to simulate probability. We used tables in that class and mine was the third table in at the left of the room. My seat was toward the door on the left, near the wall. A sat next to me on my right, and K sat across from me. I never liked K, she was kind of bossy and a little cruel I would say. But she was a good worker nonetheless and we still got stuff done.
A was wearing a reddish-brown sleeveless shirt. Her shirt was actually rather stiff. K was watching both of us very carefully and was making fun of A at the time. All of a sudden, A reached across the table with her left arm while I was looking at her. I saw her bare chest as clearly as could be. She had nothing on under the shirt. I pretended like nothing happened, but was so caught off guard I must have been staring some. K suddenly remarked that A should wear underwear or clothing a little more tight because she could see her nipple. Then K called me by name and said, "Right? You can see her nipples in that shirt." I wished a mountain would have fallen on me right then. I knew she was right because I had been looking. But A only stretched her arms and I could see them again as she examined her outfit. I kind of shrugged as an answer and tried my best not to look at her for a long time. I also despised K for a very long time following that incident for not only embarrassing me, but for catching me. Secretly though, I liked what she said because it made me think in the smallest degree that it was acceptable and okay to look.
Well, that was the beginning of the end. It was the moment I truly hit puberty so to speak. Here I was an eleven-year-old kid. In my mind I both hated the concept of nudity because of my experience with sex-education, and yet couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen. Perhaps all my preoccupation with the scene is what burned it so deeply into my mind that I can, to this day, conjure it up perfectly if I want to including all colors, sounds, feelings, and even levels of light and direction of shadows in the room. Perhaps this is where my addiction began. I'm not entirely sure, but I do know that I remembered that scene and conjured it so often, that I knew something had changed in me.
Well, now was about the time I discovered my second addiction. I will not go into so much detail with scenes after the one just mentioned, due to their nature. Nevertheless, I discovered that I could find pictures in other places. I discovered that history books and medical journals contained the types of pictures I enjoyed. In fact, I knew every word that had what I wanted because I turned every page of it in the early weekend morning routines and memorized terms I had never heard of just to experience the pictures again. There was an extra room in the house where a computer was kept and I would go in there to write stories (one of my pastimes) as well as simple computer programming and game playing. Well, the door had a lock on it and I could hide in there for some time. I discovered a pair of books about puberty in there. One for men, and one for women. They described in detail all the stages and effects of having intercourse. I devoured the information in these. The pictures were all illustrations, but that didn't matter.
Well. I did something else I am ashamed of. . .I developed the habit of being naked and examining myself. This was the first time that I became aroused. I was excited, worried, and confused all at once. Further exploration went from examination, to personal petting, to the first release. I was frightened.
I had no idea what I had just done! I poured through the material to determine what was wrong with me. I thought about what happened for several days. It finally occurred to me what I had done. I had found something I liked very much, but could not tell anyone. I also knew what brought it on.
Soft-pornography and masturbation went hand-in-hand for quite a while since then. It was still mostly a weekend morning thing until I discovered National Geographic magazines and my mom's underclothing catalogues. I used to steal these magazines and hide them in places in the house so I could enjoy them and find my release too. It grew from weekend only to after-school thrills. I would even cut out certain pictures from adds and put them in my wallet so I could enjoy it whenever I wanted.
It worried me that someone might find out what I was doing. It worried me so much that I would have dreams that I went to find the material and it would be missing. Then, once I woke up, I would take it from its hiding place and return it to its location. This continued for a long time.
Well, I was turning twelve now and it was time to receive the Priesthood. I gave addiction up for a season and was just fine when I became a deacon. I even served as Deacons Quorum President for a while. I knew, once I felt the Spirit during that ordination that now that I held the Priesthood of God, there was no way I could ever go back to a life of sin. That was unfortunately short-lived.
I started to have deeper crushes on the girls in my church ward (congregation). The problem wasn't so much the crushes. That is typical of any young, adolescent boy. My problem was that I found excuses to stare. I would study the habits of the girls in the ward and learn where they sat in church, which classes they were in, and where they waited for their parents after church was over. I would then situate myself the best I could to see them.
Then one day, it occurred to me that teen girls are not always proper in their mannerisms. They slouch. I used this to my advantage to peek. And I was good at it. I could actually hold a conversation with the very girl I was spying on.
I would constantly convince myself that this was okay because I was in public and they were still dressed. It wasn't really pornography right? Well, by definition, I suppose it wasn't but it had another nasty name. I have otherwise always referred to it as spying and peeking.
Middle school was the worst for this. The girl named A was in most of my classes. We became almost best friends for a while. But she rarely wore a bra. I was, unfortunately, one of the only people who knew that--and not because she told me. I always managed to find a way to sit near her or next to her.
In orchestra, it was just me, A, and J. Because we had orchestra in elementary school were more advanced than the other students. Our director did not really play strings, we sort of knew more that he did for technique so he sent us off into a neighboring practice room to practice our own songs as well as the simpler ones the beginning group played. From time to time he would come in to check on us or ask us to join the other group, but mostly we just stayed in our practice room and did whatever we wanted. We learned the songs, but didn't care. I was alone with two gorgeous girls for an hour every day. I was not going to do anything to stop this. In fact, this was true for all three years, even when we got a new director.
In that room, we talked, we played, and we messed around. Sometimes the conversations were very dirty. It even went so far as they would compare bust sizes and show off the tops of their panties to each other. They would even ask my input from time to time. A told some very dirty jokes, and J would go along with them. I pretended not to like them, but I mostly just listened, stared, and peeked. They even went so far as to describe how puberty was affecting them and asked how it was affecting me. For some reason I answered them. I didn't want to lose them.
We got so comfortable that A even changed her shirt in that room with me in there a couple times. She had her back to me and only one of the times did she ask me to look the other way, mostly because she wanted me to make sure the director wasn't coming. I started to fear that they would start asking to make out in that room. I was even more worried that they would ask me to take my clothes off. They never did thank goodness. I am still unsure to this day whether or not I would have had they asked.
Well, that was the pattern for many more years. Spy, view magazines, and release. It grew worse and worse. I would stop for periods of time to advance in the Priesthood, but eventually, I confessed. I knew exactly what I was doing. I was surprised at the bishop's initial response. He told me I just needed to abstain for a short period of time and I would be worthy to get a temple recommend to go do baptisms for the dead. Wasn't that the pattern I was already following?
I did as told, got my recommends, but I don't feel like I ever truly repented. I am almost sure of this since I would still try to spy on girls during the temple trips. I was still convinced at this time that it wasn't fully wrong to spy. After all, they exposed themselves right? Wrong. I put myself exactly where I needed to be to see what I wanted to see. Another instance that really stands out in my mind was at a Mariachi Conference I attended when I was in eighth grade. There were a lot of people everywhere at this conference, but, over and over, I managed to find the same girl who had a loose shirt and nothing underneath. For two days I stalked her, even talked to her at one point, just to satisfy my urges!
I was in a really bad state by the time high school roamed around. Everyone around me was convinced that I was perfect. I never got in trouble, I always had good grades, and I have had perfect attendance my entire life. Nobody ever suspected anything. After all, this was a private sin. Well, I enjoyed the release so much, that I started to do it as often as possible. It was worst in high school when I would get up to 23 times in a single day!
It was at this point that I knew I didn't just like it, I KNEW I was addicted. I tried to wean myself down to just a few times a day. It was almost impossible. I was so hyped up on it, I was like a drug addict. I was sneaking around, always worried, uptight, agitated, etc. I even explored doing it outside hiding behind trees and cars just to get a quick fix. I could not believe the state that I was in. As soon as I was home alone, I was naked. I even studied the TV listing to know when R-rated shows would be on HBO because we were able to get them in static. The static was noisy and annoying, but the mute button fixed the first problem, and sometimes the static was so light, there wasn't much hidden. Sadly, I still remember those movies clearly.
Then the Internet came into our house. I can't quite remember if it was my eighth-grade year or freshman year of school, but that was when we got the Internet. At first, it was only text and gray background. But one day, we had the Internet in color on color screens. Immediately, I started chatting Online. Some of the conversations were inappropriate and I pretended to like a girl named Daydream and her friend Rainbow (whom I eventually found out was also her as she had depression problems and would chat with herself in a public forum to look popular). I sent her a picture of myself through the mail and she dropped me as fast as she could.
I then began looking up pictures of famous actresses I liked. I looked for those pictures which really showed off their figures and were sleeveless. That was enough for me to get my release.
Then one day, my search inevitably had a link to a pornography site. I clicked. I immediately closed the Internet and ran away from it. But it called to me. It was a brand new source of my addiction with brand new things to see. This was when I started collecting. I would format promotional floppy disks which came in the mail and save my finds to the disk. This way, since we had dial-up Internet at the time, if I had the urge to see the pictures, but nobody was awake, I could see them. I even wrote simple HTML code to show them to me in a collage.
I learned how to erase my tracks really well. But one day I was in an extra hurry to get off before getting caught and did not erase my tracks. My parents discovered that I had been searching for it. I found out I wasn't the only one, but it was my search they had found. The Internet was now locked. I found a way around it though. . .I used my hobby of writing, genealogy, and occasional school assignments as excuses to stay on the computer late at night. I would have it connect, then minimize the screen and return to it once I was alone again.
This went on for some time. In high school, I was still alone with A and J from time to time, but not as much. I was, however in the theatre club. This season was more of the same, except that the girls here were extremely open about sexuality and did not care half the time if I saw them changing. It was during this time that I had to kiss a girl in a play. It was a wonderful experience, but it was not enough for me to want to form a real relationship.
This continued until I graduated high school. I was in the top of my class and most people who knew me anywhere thought I was perfect. But now it was time for me to prepare to go to college for a year before I went on my mission. I had convinced myself that I had plenty of time to repent before I went on my mission.
Going to college was no better. At first I did not have the Internet. But that did not stop me. I started by using the few public computers at the Student Union at the university. I only lived a mile away so it wasn't that bad. But then I discovered that the university offered telnet services. I would memorize websites and their layouts, then telnet from home and download my favorite images to my computer.
This was not all, I once walked into the area where the computers were and discovered someone had been searching pornography and left it open on the computer. I pretended to be a good citizen and turn it off, but it wasn't long before I did the exact same thing! I specifically used the computer whose screen did not face the security cameras. The strange thrill I got out of possibly addicting someone else was extreme for a moment, but I didn't even make it downstairs and out the building before I went right back up and turned it off. Thankfully the Internet was not that popular yet and nobody had been in there.
Eventually, I found a free Internet service and discovered Limewire. This was the worst discovery I could have encountered. I now had access to not only pictures, but videos and music. I stole a lot of music, several books, and a few movies from Limewire. I eventually deleted them all, but I would spend hour after hour doing it. Eventually, I discovered pornography videos. I had never experienced that before. I would place ten to twenty videos up in the cue line of the download manager and head off to classes. Once I came home, I would spend hours reviewing and re-reviewing that material making sure I got my release each time.
And then, one awful day, I discovered that I had downloaded one with CP in it. It scared me so much, I didn't know what to do! It did force me delete my entire collection. The collection was about 20 gigabytes of pictures and videos of all kinds. I destroyed it all. I almost gave up the entire addiction cold turkey at that moment. I knew what path my current state was taking me, I had to stop, and I had to stop right then!
Sadly though, the urge and addiction had become imbedded in my entire lifestyle. I didn't know what to do with all my time. Naturally, I landed right back where I was before: peeking, viewing, and releasing. Limewire was history though.
It was time for my mission. I gave up everything that was bad for a season, but only for a little while. I never truly repented. I was only sober for perhaps a month or so, maybe even less. My bishop and stake president signed my papers anyway. I felt better than I ever had, but nowhere the way I should.
On my mission, I continued to have the issue of releasing, but pornography was mostly ancient history. I found an occasional magazine here and there, or would peek at girls, but that was enough to ruin me for a long time. My mind had learned to memorize these scenes and turn them into permanent memories. I still remember most of them today, 10 years later. I eventually confessed this to my mission president. I was sure I was going to be sent home. I worried and worried and worried about it. But, he told me, that though I wouldn't have a temple recommend, I could still be a good missionary. I did not have to be sent home early.
I don't think I was ever fully worthy on my mission. I did it the whole time. I eventually quit for a few weeks and on the night before I went home, my mission president gave me the recommend and warned me that it wasn't something I should just periodically be good for when it was convenient. I needed to be pure all the time. I agreed. Repeatedly losing and regaining a recommend is not the way it is supposed to work.
It was short lived. Once I went home and back to school, I revisited Limewire for a while, but eventually got rid if it again. I still needed my fix. I found other means. I had taken up a job at the university library and was alone a lot. They had computers everywhere. I would take little "breaks" to view pictures, hide in the restroom and release, or peek at library patrons. It never ended. I was in charge of closing all the time and would take those opportunities to sneak in the women's restrooms, just to "say I did". Of course, I never said it to anyone, but it was a strange thrill to me.
At one point I was assigned to work in the architecture library. Nobody ever came in. I would have pornography being downloaded on three computers at once just so I could amass my collection again. I would also hide in the back supply room and release while watching the door. Thank goodness they closed that library. I was really in a bad state.
I lost my recommend again in 2004. It was the last time I had one. I have not really, truly tried to stay clean from then until now. I made a promise to myself however that I would refuse to ever get another recommend until I was actually, fully worthy of receiving one. I refused to enter a temple lobby unless I had a recommend. I have kept that promise, but unfortunately, I kind of missed the point over the years.
Since then, I graduated college, went into teaching, bought a house and started living on my own. Once I was on my own I started to ostracize myself. I began saying "no" to all sorts of things, especially church activities and relationships. In fact, there were nine months where I didn't go to church at all. I will refer to this time as "the stupidest thing I ever did" to those I mention it to. Sadly, it's only low on the totem pole of things I've done.
I had long since determined I would never get into a serious relationship. I had convinced myself that anyone I got serious with would have to find out sooner or later. I thought that they would instantly break up with me and my life would be ruined. Divorce has always been out of the question, so I decided to never go there in the first place. I then was stupid enough to think that maybe I could get in a relationship after I repented and never have to tell any future wife. Who was I kidding? It is an addiction. Addictions can be overcome, but there is real history and relapse temptation. She would find out eventually. Besides, if I hid it, would I have truly repented?
Being a bachelor with my sin was my only outlet. Since being on my own meant being alone, I was more tempted than ever. I started collecting a lot. Over and over I would get a huge collection, then I would feel bad one day when I couldn't use my Priesthood, or couldn't go on a temple trip. Then I would destroy the collection. It wouldn't be long before I started collecting again. The collections were mostly useless. I just liked to hoard them. Just knowing I "owned" certain pictures and videos was enough to keep me excited. It also kept me paranoid. The collections were organized well by how old the picture was, age of model, style, picture versus video, cartoon versus live, etc. It included clothed pictures as well. I would add pictures to the collection by the thousands each day. I almost never looked at them. Instead, I was always searching for that new picture, that new video which would go so well with my collection. I imagined I would one day gather enough to think it was complete and never want to go on the Internet again. Boy was that a dumb idea. Of course it would never be complete. There is always more!
Eventually, I got to the point where I didn't care anymore. I was so deep in addiction that I knew I would never get out of it. I had no hope left and had almost lost all desire to ever end. This was true when I missed witnessing seeing my sister get sealed in the temple and even when my parents told me how sad they were. I was just not interested in repenting. The stake president had called my bluff when I went in to get a recommend unworthily. I held a grudge against him for s long time until I realized it was not him who was calling my bluff, but the Lord. I needed that "kick in the pants" to wake me up. The addiction had been part of my life so long, it was part of me. I had woven it so deeply into my being that it occupied every thought of every hour.
Eventually, my likings became refined to where I watched full pornography, but was not really interested in it. I was more into nude posing in what some people mistakenly call "art". I was very much into nudist websites and would look for nudist families in outings like nude beaches and picnics. I liked seeing people smiling when naked and having a good time. It beat the usual sly grins, worried looks, and pain I saw in the other stuff.
Eventually, I had sort of convinced myself that I wanted to be a nudist too. I wanted a nudist wife and wanted to raise nudist kids. I thought it was the only way. I was naked so often from the releases, I was used to it. But every time I tried, I felt naked. I knew somehow that it was wrong to be naked when there is no reason, even home alone. It took me a very long time to find a reason not to. I even searched out LDS nudist groups to justify my actions. I read their stories, and still, I knew something was wrong about it.
It finally occurred to me why it was. . .the temple garment. If I am naked, then I am not wearing it, and thus, not remembering my covenants from the temple. I may not have been fully worthy to go to the temple in the first place, and I may not have been keeping my covenants, but that didn't mean I didn't know what they were. Being constantly nude, meant being constantly away from my covenants. I still didn't repent, but I found a reason for why it felt wrong to be that way.
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Well, I have finally come to the near-present time. I have a bishop who is truly inspired. There is no doubt in my mind that he is an inspired judge in Israel. It was only a couple months ago that I went to another meeting with him and he told me he was inspired to tell me something. He said, "I feel like I need to tell you that if you don't quit now, you never will." Those words sank so deep into my soul, they still ring in my ear now. I may not have shown much emotion then, but it has hit me hard many times since.
He had given me a goal to be clean for two weeks in order to take the sacrament. That was over two years ago. After he told me that though, I adopted the goal as mine. I decided that it was worth a shot. And then Stephanie (my girlfriend) came into my life and became so forgiving and understanding, I couldn't help but want to give it up more.
I have always wanted to be a father of my own little girl. I want to teach her how to live the gospel and lead a full righteous life. I want her to learn to love the gospel and the Lord, Jesus Christ. I want her to love me back. I want that unconditional love only a child possesses. Maybe that is why I teach children. But I want the best for my own little child no matter what it takes.
I drew a picture of myself with a little girl leaning up against me in a church meeting. This became the backdrop to my iPhone and iPad to remind me of my true goal in life: an eternal family of my own. I can't wait for this to come true. I look forward to that day with great anticipation. Now that I have a real goal, and a real reason to be clean, I have that much more drive to get there.
I will get there someday. . .no matter how tainted my past has been before.
