Don't talk to me about brokenness

I have put myself through so much filth in the past.

I went to a Catholic school, but my family were atheists, and by the final years of high school, so was I. My friends introduced me to porn back in seventh grade. I got caught a couple times while I was in high school. I masturbated frequently. I thought I was normal - Hollywood made it seem like I was just an average kid. The closest I came to having a girlfriend in high school was a friend of a friend who professed herself to be a nymphomaniac and was interested in me. Once when she was over at my house, she offered to perform oral sex. It was then I discovered I had erectile dysfunction. ED would continue to afflict me for the next 20 years. This pushed me into more porn use and questioning whether I was attracted to women. Shortly after college I had my first same-sex encounter, with two adult men I never met before. They got me drunk, bent me over and took turns on me. This same scenario repeated itself with different men, often in pairs. I would be driven out to a remote place away from the city, and with no other help to turn to, submit to aggressive penetration and coerced fellatio for hours.

After training in college to work in the field of TV Broadcasting, I was met with a collapsing job market upon graduation. The only full-time job available to me as a video editor was working in porn. I worked as an editor for a cable channel. I was responsible for ensuring that every scene had a "money shot" and nothing unsightly like faeces or religious imagery. If a model was wearing a cross, that had to go. I watched dozens of pornographic movies every day for over a year. This, combined with my own addiction, did serious damage to my sex drive and to my mental health. The hours were also brutal, with graveyard shifts being common. I became very depressed and lacked motivation to do anything in life. I spent all my money on junk food and video games. I became a fat, worthless slob. Ultimately, I was fired when I expressed to a coworker my need to find another line of work.

For the next several years I had on and off sexual experiences with men and women. I was able to maintain an erection only a couple times, and it was in relationships with women who were primarily interested in sex and often sought it outside our relationship. My first full-time girlfriend broke up with me rather quickly, over a very trivial matter, but we continued to sleep together after separating. My second girlfriend lamented my inability to perform sexually. I suggested that she seek a regular sexual partner if it meant we could stay together. I was so starved for love and intimacy. I put up with this dysfunctional arrangement for two years, during which time my porn addiction worsened. When I tried to get her to recommit to just the two of us, she had already added a permanent third to our midst. They're still together and still "open." In late 2015, disillusioned with my inability to please women, I thought my only sexual worth would be as a passive partner for gay men to use when they felt the urge. I would chat on a hook-up site, invite someone over, and be waiting for them on my bed with the lights off and my exposed backside pointing up. I'd hear the door open, clothes being pulled off, and then be aggressively penetrated by a stranger, often unprotected. Also around this time, I began writing an erotic fiction series about exaggerated forced feminization and homosexual sex slavery. It got a decent amount of traffic on a major erotica site, and one of my lesbian friends pushed me to keep writing. I had abdicated my masculinity and betrayed my responsibilities as a man.

Near the end of that year I developed a sleep disorder which affected my ability to work. I moved back in with my parents and took the necessary time to properly treat my disorder. This stay turned out to be longer than anticipated when my dad was diagnosed with dementia. I remained at home to serve as a caregiver. I continue to use porn without shame for the next two years and to feed my addiction with filthy chats, and the promise of continued same-sex encounters. One local man offered to meet me in the bushes outside a public park. I was horrified that he would be willing to do an act so close to where children play. But I was so desperate to get my fix, I very nearly agreed. Being with men was never physically stimulating. I felt the need to serve and service, so I was "happy" to be used for a man's pleasure. It made me feel like I had some worth.

In 2017, after a lifetime of indulging in degenerate filth I was called into the woods, clasped my hands together and prayed to God. Don't ask me how it happened. Until recently, it never made any sense. The next year I joined a church, one that uses a sacramental system, and made the most of Confession, pouring out my sins to the priest. But every week, I was back again because I still hadn't dealt with my addiction, nor had I put my trust in Jesus. The church had lax rules when it came to female dress code and the young women there would frequently trigger an arousal that would send me back to porn. I put up a site blocker, but still found more than what I needed on certain social media sites. Still, I had more peace in the church. I could devote myself to the liturgical calendar and the daily prayer regimen. These were, ultimately, distractions from dealing with the core problems with which I grappled. I was still afraid that anyone would find out about my sexual past. I was asked by a local Christian political party if I wanted to run for office in my area, but I was paralyzed by the fear that the men who photographed my past shameful activities would appear and expose me as a filthy degenerate.

Then, this year, while isolated from the haven that had sustained me for the last two years, I fell back into my addiction shamefully and awfully. I opened up to a friend from high school about my sexual experiences and struggles. He tempted me, desiring to hook up for sex. He offered me the comfort of someone I could trust. I could turn to him whenever I felt the urge to get on my knees and he would return the favour. The offer afflicted me more than I would like to admit. I had, by then, recovered some shred of my masculinity and realized that I was only truly attracted to women, but nevertheless was addicted to the shame and embarrassment of a fellow man treating me like a sex object. Don't talk to me about brokenness - I know it far too well. I resisted. I pushed back and pushed him away. Although he was a dear friend in high school, I was not ready to engage with him while he was willing to exploit my self-destructive sexual urges.

It was amidst that latest spiritual battle that I finally gave up and gave in - giving my life to Christ and truly accepting him as my Lord and Saviour. Could I go any lower? Perhaps, but it terrified me to find out to what depths of depravity I'd be liable to sink. I feared that after a life of such filthy defilement and moral evil, that I would only be fit for Hell. Then my fears ceased and I embraced my fate. Yes, I do deserve Hell! But by GRACE I have been saved by FAITH in CHRIST JESUS. There's nothing sweeter after a lifetime of bitterness. Am I cured? No. I still struggle with the aftereffects, and the fear in our society surrounding COVID-19 isn't helping. I'm angry most days, depressed and anxious that the wrong thought will pop in my head and push me to retread that old familiar path of self-destruction. But whenever I fall I turn with tears to God Almighty and pray for his merciful loving tenderness. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a WRETCH like me! Amazing love, how can it be that Christ my God should die for me!

If you're reading this, whether you find comfort that your addiction never got to be as bad as mine, or are distressed because yours is even worse, then brother (or sister) fear not your evil ways. Turn yourself over to God and be healed. The devil has power so long as we fear exposing our sin more than we fear holding onto it. We all need to heal - let us turn to the physician of our souls and bodies.

Grace be with you from our Lord Jesus Christ.


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  • My husband does not fuck me. I am looking for sex chat. Chat with me now:

  • WTF? Get out of here with all your Jesus shit.

  • Are you his atheist mother?

  • I’m tired of Bible thumpers infecting forums, if you want religious shit...go to church.

  • They have just as much right to post their life story as you do. Don't like it go somewhere else.

  • There is no god.

  • Thank you

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